Well.
I am scared for life. Actually, I am scared for much longer than life. I am scared for the next three lifetimes.
It's been two weeks since moving in with the Prestons and our lives have become somewhat normal. So far, I have managed to keep Celina and Indie in the dark about my living condition. They seem content with me telling them we're living with my grandparents. For now. I don't like lying to my friends.
I try to avoid Warren as much as I can, but when I live across the hall from him, it is definitely hard to avoid contact and conversation with him.
Which brings me to the horror that happened this morning while getting ready for school. Everything was normal as I got up, got my uniform ready, and gathered it up to go into the bathroom to take a shower. Without thinking, I open the door, it being unlocked, and walk right into the bathroom.
But I don't just walk into an empty bathroom, oh no, my luck isn't that good. I walk right into something solid. And alive. And damp.
Oh. Dear. God.
It's Warren, who must've forgotten to lock the door when he went in for a shower. And my stupid, stupid brain forgot that I live with two teenaged boys whom I share a bathroom with rather than living by myself with my own bathroom.
Thank Goodness that he is wearing a towel around his hips. But he's still half naked.
We stare at each other for a moment, horror on my face and surprise on his. Then a smirk pops up.
"You know, little bug, if you wanted to see me naked, all you'd have to do is knock on my door."
I hate you!
My face heats up so red I can feel the warmth, "I- that... that is n-not... I don't..."
What has he done to me?! I'm a stuttering, red mess!
"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"
It's like something snaps inside of me. I straighten, poke my finger in his chest, and hiss, "I'd appreciate it if you'd lock the door from now on, sweetheart."
He snorts, and I gesture to the door, "Now get out, please, so I can take a shower."
"I think I'll stay."
"Warren. Out." I'm starting to get angry. It seems like every conversation we have ends in me being angry. He's just so... infuriating!
He puts his hands up, "Fine, fine, I'll get my sneak peak later anyways."
Grrrrr!
I double check the lock on the door and fuming, step into a steaming hot shower.
I don't understand what his deal is. He's cold and cruel and arrogant, and yet both John and Charlotte are such nice, loving people. Sawyer is a snot and brat, but he's twelve, so I don't hold it against him. Why is it that Warren is the only one who has a problem with me being here?
Once I'm done in the bathroom, I wisely dress before leaving, brushing out my wet hair as I leave. It's a small thing, but I pride myself on my hair. It's thick, shiny and soft, and has a beautiful wave to it.
It looks like Mom's and makes me feel connected to her. It's one of the few things I shared with her, besides the violin.
"Boo!"
I shriek, caught off guard, and then immediately start beating Sawyer with my brush.
"You little punk! I'll get you for that!" I yell at him, banishing my brush like a sword as he cackles with laughter and dashes away from me.
I'm two steps down the hallway, intent on murder, when I'm suddenly yanked back by two arms hooked around my waist.
Who-
"Whoa, calm down, buggie."
I thrash in Warren's arms, "Warren! Warren, put me down! Let me get the stupid weasel!"
That marks the fifth time Sawyer has scared me coming around the hallway leading towards the stairs. It's his favorite pass time to mess around with me.
"He isn't worth it, Harper." Warren is laughing at me, his arms locked right around my waist, basically hugging me against him.
And that marks twice in one day when I've had close and personal physical contact with Warren.
Is there something in the air today?! What the heck!
"Put me down, Warren," I say, deflated but still fuming, "I'm not going to do anything."
There is a thirty second pause where Warren doesn't do anything at all, still holding onto my waist and breathing on my neck, and my heart kicks up speed. But then he releases me, stepping back to put distance between us.
Whoa, what was that?
Without saying a word, he steps around me and heads down for breakfast. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. Hopefully today will be better than the start I had.
But unfortunately, it doesn't seem to work that way.
Dad is running late for work, so I am forced to get a ride with Warren and Sawyer.
We sit in icy silence as Warren drives to school. I kinda wish I could drive his car, at least once, but I don't want to ask Warren for anything and I don't think he'd ever let me.
Grandpa Thompson taught me how to drive stick in his old pickup on their two acre farm during the summers of my sophomore and Junior years. I would drive around on his land, country music crackling in the old speakers, with him next to me teaching the gears.
As usual, we stop at the middle school building to drop off Sawyer. He gives Warren a fist pump, sticks his tongue out at me, then leaves for school.
"Little punk." I grumble. I am forever thankful that I am the only child. I don't think I could survive having a Sawyer of my own.
"Cut him some slack," I turn to Warren, surprised, "He's not used to having someone else, an outsider especially, break up his normal routine."
For one small moment, I have pity for the twerp, but then it's gone when I think about how awful he's been to me.
His routine? What about my routine?
Warren pulls into the parking lot, unlocking the door for me to get out. Huffing, I scoop up my backpack and case, getting ready to get out of his car.
"Do you really have to carry that around all the time?" He asks, stopping me just as I'm about to get out.
I frown, then look at my case, "What, my violin?" I nod, "Well, yeah, I have to practice pretty much every day."
He doesn't seem too interested, but I really didn't expect anything else from him.
Of course, it isn't until I get all the way to home room and get ready for the day when I realize my fatal mistake.
Warren and I have switched backpacks.
We're required to use the school issued backpack or satchel, with most people customizing theirs as they see fit so mixups won't happen. But I must've just been in such a hurry to get out of Warren's car that I grabbed his bag instead of mine without checking. Both were sitting at my feet at the time.
Oh lord!
What in the world am I going to? My calculus homework, my English assignment, Warren has them all!
I burn holes in the back of Warren's head, hoping he'll notice, praying he doesn't going through my backpack. It's not like we can just switch right here in class, then our secret will be blown, but I need my backpack.
I watch in despair as he opens my backpack and stops, staring down into the contents.
Please don't find my tampons!
He straightens, carefully pulls out his phone beneath the desk, and in the next second I feel my own phone buzz in my pocket. He glances back, just quick enough for us to look at each other, and I give him a very very short nod. He snaps his head back.
Unknown number: u have my backpack
Bitting my lip hard, I watch Mr. Barnes and wait for an opportunity to text back.
Me: ik!!!! What are we going to do?!
Warren Preston: hold on
I'm not sure what Warren's going to do, but I hope he does it soon. I wait a moment as he obviously thinks of someway to figure this mess out.
Warren Preston: I've got it. Meet me in hallway outside of auditorium between home room and first
Me: ok
Thankfully, home room is only for fifteen minutes before we go to first. Now I only have to sit here and waiting impatiently until I can have my bag back.
Ugh, this is a disaster.
I pretty much book it out of the classroom as soon as the bell rings, telling Celina, who I share a home room with, that I have to use the bathroom to get out of answering her questions.
I'm slightly panting by the time I get to the small hallway connecting the auditorium to the band and choir room, next to the dressing rooms the theater uses.
I don't have to wait long before Warren appears around the corner.
"Let's make this quick, Phoebe is waiting for me." He says, dropping my bag unceremoniously at my feet. I feel a rush of relief seeing my familiar dangle of keychains on the zipper.
"Don't have to tell me twice." I say, taking off his bag and handing it over, "You didn't touch anything did you?"
"Yes, I went through your entire backpack and found all of your secrets."
My heart skips a beat before I realize he's being sarcastic. I wack him on the arm, "You're not funny, you know."
"Cas?"
We both freeze. I slowly look over Warren's shoulder and wonders of wonders, Indie and Celina are staring at me.
Could this day get any worse??
"Warren, what are you-"
Oh wait. It can.