Freaks

10 • mondays

For a moment, I stare into the empty room in confusion, until her figure appears out of the adjoining bathroom. She detaches a mascara wand from her eyelash to take a proper look at me. "Oh good, you're back."

She sounded relieved, which surprised me- especially considering the fact that besides our initial conversation, we hadn't actually spoken a word to each other.

"I'm back." I reply with a weak smile and an ever weaker attempt of a wave.

"I was wondering whether they'd let you back for the first official day of lessons," she admits, in between applying bits of her makeup. "How was the white hell?"

"You call it that too? I thought I was the only one bugged by all that." I couldn't help but hide my surprise at that too.

"No way, that place bugs the hell out of me," Cass replies with the hint of a scowl on her face as takes a seat at the edge of her bed. "They still make me go there once every couple weeks. I keep telling my mo–"

Cass abruptly cuts off the rest of her sentence with a sigh.

"Never mind." She changes the subject. "So I take it you'll be in lessons this week?"

"I don't see why not," I respond with a nonchalant shrug as I watch her get up from her bed, and try to run her fingers through her thick tangled curls.

She looks up at me, and suddenly pulls her hand out of her hair.

"That's good." She accompanies this comment with a vague nod, before sidling past me so she was at the door instead.

It was odd. She was not acting so detached anymore, but she wasn't the bubbly, talkative Cass I'd met on that first day either. It was... something in between. And I wasn't quite sure why.

But as if honing in on my thoughts, Cass delivers her third surprise of that morning.

She smiles. A genuine one. One that showed kindness, like she was mentally saying 'hey, I've been there before- it'll be okay. Being the new kid doesn't have to be so bad!'

Or perhaps it's just my imagination.

"Well. I'm going now," she says, lingering by the door. "You'll probably want space to get changed in peace and all."

I glance at the clock. From what I had been informed of so far, it wasn't obligatory to go but the breakfast bar was open all morning until 15 minutes before lessons began. We technically didn't have to be anywhere for another 45 minutes. So where was she going?

Cass halts midway through slipping out of the room, and like before, she pokes her head through the crack to add her all important side notes.

"By the way," she begins, "I'd try no to make a bad impression on the teachers. I'm ninety-nine percent sure most of them are either retired agents or ex-spies. And most of them are pretty..." she trails off. "Well. You'll find out."

"What—?"

"Well, bye!"

Without any further elaboration, she's gone. And I'm left alone to consider: