Whispers

Chapter Eleven

My flip flops squeaked against the tile floors as I made my way past the toilets. Girls with towels wrapped around their bodies stood before the mirrors, fixing their hair or reapplying make-up. Some girls were in the process of changing as they stood out in the open, talking away with their friends as though it was the most normal thing in the world. Other girls didn't seem to care what anyone thought as they strutted around the bathroom bare ass naked. Feeling incredibly awkward and trying not to stare, I rushed into the nearest vacant shower I could find, yanking the door closed behind me.

The shower stalls were incredibly cramped, nothing like the showers at home, with no place to set down your things aside from a small seat connected to the wall and a hook on the door. Do not under any condition put your towel or your clothes on the seat. It will get wet. The best chance you had was to hang everything on the hook and pray it wasn't too soaked when you were done.

Double checking the door was locked behind me, I took off my robe and hung it up on the hook. Next, I slipped off my glove and unrolled the bandages covering the length of my arm, shoving both materials into the robe's pockets. With a small sigh, I looked down. The burn stretched from my fingers to spread over my shoulder blade in a mix of rough, smooth and marbled skin. When I touched the scars they always felt hot, as though the fire that created them never really went away, they just buried themselves beneath my flesh.

Setting the shower caddy on the small seat I reached forward and turned on the water. A cold spray assaulted my skin followed quickly by warm and then hot. I adjusted the temperature to what I wanted it and got to work.

I was lucky. Even after that spat with my mom she had sent in new shower supplies. The soaps and hair care products the academy provided you with were cheap and left your skin feeling dry and tight, your hair a tangled mess. Because of that, it was an almost unspoken rule to bring your own washes or else you were screwed. Reaching into my caddy I grabbed a sponge and began lathering it with soap until it was full of bubbles. The scent smelled like Mom.

We both acted like assholes, but I knew I had been the bigger one. Sure, I was angry, but I shouldn't have shoved Dad in her face. Not just because she was worried about me. I had been trying to convince myself that I was still mad at her and that was why I hadn't bothered calling lately. The truth was that I was afraid she was mad at me after just walking out and couldn't bring myself to pick up the phone. I'd have to apologize to her the next chance I got. Maybe after dinner.

Once I had finished washing up, I turned off the water, yanked on my robe and my glove and headed back to my room. I had been left alone with my thoughts long enough. I needed some human interaction. I needed my friends. I needed food.

Trying to remember which room numbers they were so I could invite them down to dinner with me, I opened the door to my room and stepped inside.

Halfway through the frame, I froze and stared.

There, in the middle of the room stood a man, his back to me. The blue shirt he wore was slightly rumpled, the fold down collar and his dark blond locks partially covering a hint of dark scars trailing down his neck. The subtle scent of cologne drifted through the air, rich and sweet. His hands skimmed over my desk, flipping through the loose papers scattered over its top.

Who was this man? What was he doing in my bedroom? And why was he going through my sketches?

"Hello?" I called out softly. "Can I help you?"

Startled by my voice, the man stopped rifling through the pages on my desk and turned to face me. The first thing I noticed was the scar on his face. It stretched from the inner corner of his right eye to the bottom of his ear. A smaller scar, not as deep or visible as the first, ran parallel just beneath it. The next were those eyes, deep and dark as they stared into me. His brows crinkled slightly, as though he were in deep thought before something seemed to click. Surprise passed over his face before it was replaced by something else. An emotion I couldn't quite place flooded his features as he stared at me and my blood ran cold.