The Burned Rogue Book

Chapter Twelve: Love Lost

Chapter Twelve: Love Lost

After the rush of kissing Atlas, my brain had turned to mush. We snuck out of the pool and went back up to his room, trying to avoid stares of judgmental people. When the door of the room closed behind us, silence enclosed us.

“Whoa,” I muttered. He smiled mysteriously and his eyes glowed.

“Better than the first time we kissed, yeah?” he asked quietly.

“The first time was after getting attacked. I think I liked this time better.” To that, he laughed.

“Me too.”

I walked out of his room through the connecting door, closed it, and went to change into my pajamas. I brushed my hair (wincing at all the knots), and walked back into Atlas’s room. He wasn’t there, but the bathroom door was closed. I heard the hairdryer.

“Are you blow-drying your hair?” I asked, knocking on the door. He poked his head out.

“How do you think I maintain such a voluminous look of black, curly locks?” He was so serious that I laughed.

“Whatever,” I said, and he closed the door. I jumped up on his bed and sprawled there, staring at the ceiling. It was then that the fatigue set in. My back tingled with pain, which quickly subsided, and I closed my eyes. I felt like the room started spinning and then it stopped, and then I felt the falling sensation. Distantly, I heard the hum of the hairdryer stop, but suddenly I lost control of my body.

“Bel, you won’t believe—” Atlas came out of the bathroom in his blue plaid pajama pants, and his bare shoulders slumped. I sat up.

“Yeah?” I asked, but my voice sounded distant. I looked behind me and saw my sleeping body sprawled out on the bed. Atlas chuckled.

“Sleeping,” he smiled.

“Aw, come on,” I moaned. “Jennabel, wake up.” I tried to get back in my body, but it wouldn’t work. I couldn’t wake myself up. I sat up again and walked towards Atlas. “Hey, wake me up,” I said, but he ignored me. Er, he couldn’t hear me. He walked towards my sleeping body, opened the covers, picked me up (my head was lolling. Jennabel, wake up! Don’t drool on him!), and tucked me in. “Please don’t drool,” I said, wincing. My sleeping face winced too, and Atlas saw.

“It’s okay, Bel,” he said gently, and he kissed my forehead. He sat down next to me and started curling his fingers in my hair. Faintly, I felt the tickling on my scalp.

“Drooling would be so not cool,” I said. Atlas got up from the bed, walked over to Gair’s, opened the covers, and slid in. I smiled. “You’re so decent and modest and respectful.” I walked over to him and kissed him, even though he couldn’t feel it. He brushed his fingers through his untamable hair and closed his eyes.

The room started fading around me then, and a different room materialized. I recognized it as room 314—Atlas’s room back at the Campus. I was alone. The bed was messy, but it was night, as if Atlas never made it that morning. There was a calendar on the wall, the month being early September of last year. This was a little over a year ago. Suddenly, the door burst open, and stumbling in were Atlas and Cornelia. She closed the door behind them and he pushed her against it, kissing her. My eyes widened.

“Uh, hi,” I said, but they ignored me. Cornelia’s fingers traced up his spine and he pulled her closer. I felt nauseous. And like a knife had been plunged into my stomach. Repeatedly. “Guys,” I protested again, but they didn’t hear me. It was like I was watching the past, unable to change—oh, wait. That’s probably exactly what was going on.