Smiling in the rain

Chapter 7: Faye

Songs for this chapter:

I've been sitting in the dorms for the whole of lunch, turning over possibilities in my head. Animus Assessments. Something wasn't quite right about Dr Tehran. I just know it. I've got you all figured out. How could she possibly think she knows everything about me from my frantic questions earlier? You seem to be very... dedicated towards your academic studies. Yes, I am. But that's not it... There is more to my being than just colour-coding my schedules, organising my syllabus, making notes, studying intently.

Then there's Harry. You mean nothing to mean. Nothing. The words filled with such hatred and declaration. I push the thoughts about Harry to the back of my mind and focus my thoughts. The Animus Assessment. I have to somehow get my hands on my result. Dr Tehran mentioned that we wouldn't be getting our formal results back as we would be told our house groups later on during the week. She must have some kind of notes about each individual. A wild idea suddenly sparks inside me. An absurd idea. Something which I would never attempt. But that Faye is long gone.

***

My eyes dart around the library, ensuring no-one could possibly be watching me. I picked the most isolated section in the library, but what if... Ugh. Just stop it, Faye! What are you waiting for? my subconscious mocks. With shaky fingers I type in Dr Tehran in the google search bar. Irrelevant hits pop up onto the screen, so again, I click on the search bar and type, Dr Tehran Woodland Hills Grammar. I click on the first link that appears, and waiting anxiously for the page to load. An image of Dr Tehran with an ingenuine and rather quite frightening smile visualises next to a description of her. I make a mental note of the website.

Dr Maria Tehran achieved her degree in Child Psychology with an Honours and has gained numerous medals for her research (PDH) on the complicated psychology of a developing child's brain. She specialises in the passionate interaction between the child and herself to understand the mental disorder from the child's perspective. She currently works at Woodland Hills Grammar also known as The Woodland Hills Institute for Juvenile Delinquents.

I had read barely the entire paragraph, but I already feel the bile raising up from the depths of my stomach up my throat. I swallow, to keep my lunch down, and attempt to control my breathing. I had read enough. Those results had to be in my hands by the end of today or I would explode from the pain. My world was threatening to crash down on my already broken being. The only person left in this world who loved me, my grandmother, betrayed me by sending me here. The was not a single soul left on this world that was left living for. Not a single soul that loved me. And there was not a single soul that I loved.

Harry. I have to tell Harry. What? Why should I tell Harry? He told me himself I meant nothing to him. But he was the only person who had taken the effort to get to know me, and I pushed him away so easily. How can I reach out for his help now? No, I will not tell Harry. Where would I find him anyway?

Speak of the Devil... His eye contact meets instantly with mine. With a dramatic roll of his eyes and a groan he quickly beings to turn and exit the way he came.

'Harry!' I yell out a little too loudly, which earns me a glare from the librarian. I mouth a sorry to her and she returns to her work.

He turns to me, with hatred laced across his expression. I begin to run towards him before he can take another step and grab hold of his wrist.

'Harry please, you've got to listen to me!' I blurt.

'I don't want to listen to your bullshit, Fayanna. And I'm not in any mood to apologise for what I said earlier if that's what you were wondering-' I cut him off sharply.

'I don't want to talk about that! I need to tell someone this before I literally explode!' I say in a whisper, willing my voice not to crack.

'Let go of me. Now, Fayanna,' he says firmly, his chest rising up and down quickly.

I gulp and whisper, 'Sorry for keeping you.'

He huffs and breaks his arm from my grip before slamming the door on his way out. Time for Plan B, Faye. It's the only way.

***

'What do I owe you?' I say shakily. You're going to regret this, Faye, my subconscious says in a sing-song voice. I mentally slap her for doubting my choices.

'Ah, my sweet. I don't want anything material you see,' Nigel whispers, just audible enough for only me to hear. 'Hacking a complicated computer system, in exchange for... Three secrets?' he raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to answer. Under those thick black glasses, the darkness in his eyes tease me. Mock me. Just waiting for me to make a move that I will indeed regret.

Three secrets? What could he possibly want to know about me that would be useful to him?

I clear my throat uneasily before replying, 'Three secrets? I-I'm an open book.' I try my best to crack an artificial smile, but it falters when I hear him cackling with laughter.

'You can't lie to me, Faye. I know a lot about you already. I just need to,' he pauses before continuing, 'clarify my doubts.'

'Why secrets? Why secrets in particular? Why not money? A month's worth of homework?' I say, desperately searching for an alternative.

'My darling, Faye. I don't provide service for free, you know. Three little secrets of the past. Just some meaningless words which will escape from those soft lips of yours,' he smirks, running the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. His touch chills me. I instantly pull away.

'Don't touch me,' I snap, forcing my lips into a thin line.

'Uh-uh-uh, Miss Summers. Let's not be nasty, shall we? It may make things easier for both of us. Where shall we meet tonight?'

'Well, where is the system?' I say with an slight edge.

He rubs his chin thoughtfully before saying, 'At the reception. Tonight at midnight. Alone. Or there will be consequences.' I can detect a hint of venom in his words.

'Why would I want anyone seeing me hacking a computer system?' I fire back, rolling my eyes.

'Ah, Fayanna. It's me that's doing the technical work. It's you that will be receiving the end product all in exchange for three simple secrets,' he smirks.

'Don't call me that,' I seethe through my teeth

'Emo boy gets to call you that though,' he fake pouts. Emo boy? It takes me less than a fraction of a second to realise who he is talking about.

'His name is Harry,' my jaw locking together. Why did I just defend Harry?

He chuckles to himself before whispering, 'Choose wisely, sweetheart.' He turns and walks back the way he came, to his group of geeky idiots.