Red Hair, Black Soul (Red & Black #1)

30 | Origami stars

Complement #40

(Never) said to: Jed

Your kisses could save lives.

***

"Your vitals are exceptionally high today, Ada." Ms. Brownstone says, studying me with her famous I-know-something-you-don't expression. With her jean-clad leg crossed over the other, her elbow is propped up on the armrest and her chin is resting on her closed fist, she looks like someone watching an exceptionally interesting movie in the cinema, just waiting for the event to unfold. "Care to share the reason hiding behind your beaming attire with me?"

I shrug, my eyes glued to the new item in Ms. Brownstone's office - a green rug. She claims the color is relaxing and helps to calm down but all it makes me feel is the urge to barf. "Not really."

Seems like it's my universal response to everything these days. 

"Not really." Ms. Brownstone repeats, nodding. Her high ponytail swings to one side as she does. "Well then. Why don't we talk about your notebook? How is the complement challenge going?"

"I thought they were not going to be any part of your business until December 23rd?" I reply curtly.

"Well, since nothing about your life seems like part of my business recently, I thought I'd ask for something that'll gain me an answer other than mhm or not really." The words aren't harsh, but meaningful. Just a reminder that my therapist is not stupid and is aware of certain things.

I sigh soundlessly, shifting in my seat. My left leg has started to tingle. I've been sitting motionlessly for way too long. "It's fine." I say honestly. "I try to fulfill the challenge of one complement a day."

Right now, I've collected forty-two notes, which means I'm in the black. There's still almost a month left until Christmas and I have only eighteen notes left. 

Just one more month and I'll have to endure this only once a week. 

"You're that eager to get rid of me, huh?" Ms. Brownstone cracks a half-smile.

"I guess I just like a little challenge." I force a small smile myself. It disappears as fast as it appeared, though, when a shudder rocks through my body.

Seems like Jed has rubbed himself on me, after all, since I've started sounding like him. I slide my tongue along my teeth, willing to wipe the words out. If I want to wipe him out of my life, I'm going to have to stop thinking like him. The school might have not agreed to sign me out of Mrs. Scottinson's class, but the task of getting rid of whatever mark he's left in my mind is all up to me. I said all I wanted to tell him yesterday afternoon and that's where it ended. Right there, in Mrs. Scottinson's classroom. All I have left to do now is to endure what's left of my senior year, graduate from high school and figure out my next moves. Whatever Jed-connected troubles I might have had are finished now.

The rational part of my brain shares my opinion. But still, there's this tiny, little part - the evilest one of all - lurking somewhere in the back of my head, whispering:

You know that's not true.

***

"What do you mean you're not going to the Homecoming?" Makena demands, her fingers stilling over the little paper star she's holding. Sarah came up with a new origami pattern and we've spent almost every break folding old newspapers into 3D stars since then.

I shrug, folding one of the star's arms peacefully. "I don't really know how there can be any hidden meaning behind the words but I can explain them to you if you need me to."