Chapter 27

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Author's Note: HELLO MY LOVELY READERS! It's been like, 3 weeks, I am aware. I'm so sorry it's been so long, but I am back now, and prepared to update with rapid succession. The good thing is that all my exams are now over and I don't even have to think about school until February. Which means faster updates (hopefully. Y'all are still going to have to bother me for that to happen) and hopefully being able to complete this story before the end of the year! So anyway, I give you the update: (Don't forget to vote or comment! I love hearing from you all and seeing the support!)

Chapter 27

On tip-toes, I creep after Sasha.

It doesn’t escape me that I could completely cut the shiftiness if I just used telepathy, making it so she couldn’t see me unless she was aware I was there. But after the earlier display of what telepathy did to Jesse? I’d really rather not.

Ahead, Sasha has stopped, and is likely trying to figure out where the bathroom is. I already know it’s to her left, so as she nudges open the door carefully, I speed up and slide through after her just before it slams shut. 

Sasha shrieks when she spots me in the mirror, standing behind her. In such a fright from my sudden appearance, she spins around and very nearly hurls fire at my face.

“Geez!” I exclaim, putting my hands up. “Be careful with the firearms.” I snort. “Get it?

Sasha can’t help but crack a grin she tries to hold back. “You’re so lame.”

“I am,” I agree. I cluck my tongue. “So, what are you doing in here?”

“Uh, peeing?” Sasha says slowly, raising an eyebrow. 

I kind of expected something more obscure or suspicious.

“That’s all?” I say, head bobbing in disbelief. “You’re just here to relieve your bladder?”

Sasha’s eyes crinkle, looking close to laughing. “Air, you’ve really been on the run for too long. What’d you think I was doing? Training a secret power?”

She disappears into the single stall, leaving me to wait outside. 

“Actually, yes?” I call in question. “You can’t blame me. You looked pretty dodgy.”

“Not everyone is always hiding something.”

“Mmhmm,” I say, leaning one shoulder against her door. “You sure?”

I dithered, not sure how to approach the question delicately. Do I need to be sensitive? Should I even be mentioning it at all? I don’t want to be a hypocrite after I said we need to leave them to work it out themselves, but…

“How’s Eric?” 

Sasha flings open the door, her face the picture of rage. 

Okay. Definitely need to be more sensitive. 

“Not funny,” she snaps, stomping to the sink. She washes her hands in a way I can only describe as aggressive.

“I’m not making a joke out of it,” I say, moving over and leaning my hip against the wall. “I’m genuinely asking what’s up. In a poor fashion.”

“Nothing’s up,” Sasha mumbles, hitting the tap shut with the side of her fist.

“Really?”

“Yes,” she spits. “He’s just an absolute idiot.”

With that last word, she slams her fist down on the counter. 

I consider prying further, but maybe she prefers keeping it to herself for now. I chew on the inside of my lip absently. Though I know she doesn’t mean it, I can’t help but feel a little hurt she’s not confiding in me.

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