The Class Reject: A Martyr in Maelstrom (Book III)

22

Jeno watched the early light rays of morning shoot through the cracks of his drapes. It was a distraction effort mostly, because who he really wanted to watch was Miren.

She had joined him for another night, and her head was nestled against his chest as she slept soundly. He breathed in slowly, steadily, in an effort not to wake her, even though school would be starting in forty minutes.

He stroked her hair slightly, his hands lightly brushing along her short tight, soft coils as he pressed his lips on her temple. But when she stirred slightly, he realized this could have been a bad move. One slip and she'd close up completely, wouldn't she? She had already agreed to move back in. And the only reason she was with him now was because he was the most secure thing she had. That is, when he wasn't getting all "I have some pretty obvious feelings for you" on her. Or when he wasn't reimagining that kiss they'd shared...

But she was his best friend.

It didn't matter how beautiful she was, or how much she did actually like him. They weren't a thing—they'd never be a thing.

And this realization was as sobering as it was unfortunate.

With a sigh he carefully peeled her off of him. As he rose to his feet he felt colder than usual, but he pressed on, resisting the urge to look back at her.

He found his phone and texted Olive.

***

"Come with me," Jemma told Artemis as she put her cello in it's mint case. Okay, it came out more like a command, but Artemis didn't feel anymore obligated to joining her.

"Why?" she practically hissed, slamming the locker for viola so hard that some of the girls turned in their direction. She ignored them, securing her messenger bag over her shoulder. "Just because I'm in a bad mood doesn't mean I need your pep talk."

"Then you befriended the wrong cheerleader." The senior offered her a smile that was almost sickeningly optimistic. "I though you had come to terms with what happened."

"I did." She sighed, but the hostility didn't leave her body. "Then I met Olive."

"Oh, please." Jemma shook her head. Here she thought this was something serious. "Olive's completely harmless."

"I thought so too." Artemis replied rather dejectedly as they left the auditorium. "I thought she was doing something I didn't have the objectiveness to do, but I don't know what she's trying to accomplish. I keep thinking that Penelope's going to strike her down the same way she striked Miren, but they both seem immune to each other's aggression." She blinked a few times, her eyes slightly sore from a weekend of crying. "And I'm the one being affected by everything."

"Only because you choose to be." Jemma folded her arms as the cool March air brushed past them. "I told you to move on months ago. And then you took it upon yourself to befriend Nancy Drew." She shook her head. "And for what? I know you care, but why are you so obsessed with Miren?"

Artemis' head fell as her mind surged. The past was fussy, but that didn't mean it was any less fucked up. She may not have been responsible for what had happened to her, but she had played her part—a role that was years in the making.

"I had a dream that she visited me at the hospital the night they found her body. Olive thought we should check the hospital surveillance to rule out the idea that she could actually just be in hiding." She closed her eyes, trying her best to keep her voice steady. "But she's dead. And moving on just feels like I'm spitting on her grave."