“C’mon. Just sit.” He grabs my hand and lets go when I flinch. “Oh right, the visions.”
I swallow the violent flash, my anger falling away. “What’s going on at this place? Who are you really?”
All humor fades as he picks at a scratch on the desk. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said to Chambers at the end of class. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. It’s complicated, but what you did in there, those things you said…” He looks up, and I suck in a breath. It’s impossible to be mad at him when he looks at me like that. “People don’t stand up for me. For good reason.”
I bite my lip and take the chair across from him. “So why did you reject me? What can I do to make you believe in me?”
His lips curve in a fleeting twist. “Trust me, I believe in you. There’s nothing you could do at this point to change that.”
“What do you mean?”
He shakes his head and pushes to his feet. “I’m getting off topic and doing the opposite of what I intended. You know the clichéd, ‘it’s not you, it’s me’? Well, it’s definitely not you.”
“What are you talking about? What are they doing to you? What’s that room?”
He backs toward the door. “I don’t want to patronize you. This is our last conversation, Rebecca. We can’t be friends. I actually do think you’re the only decent person in this place, which is why I’m going to do the decent thing in return. Stay away from me. I appreciate the gestures and the concern, but it’s all misguided. I’m going to reject you so don’t humiliate yourself by defending me anymore. You deserve better than that.”
He reaches for the door, and I never wished for a clever retort more than at this moment. Of course my mind goes completely blank.
“Daniel, wait. The visions?”
His fist tightens on the door handle, a muscle moving in his jaw. My heart beats wildly as I wait for the verdict. After a brief pause, he pushes without a word.
“Daniel!” I rush forward, but as usual, he’s disappeared before I can interfere. Huh. Maybe that’s his superpower… avoidance.
Frustrated, I lean against the wall while the latest vision pounds through my head. I rub my temples to soothe the ache, but it does nothing to counter the violence of the scene. His cryptic message lingers as well, leaving me more confused and wishing he hadn’t tried to explain. Why couldn’t he just allow me the luxury of hating him? I was just starting to get there. I could’ve gone back to pretending, to explaining away what’s right in front of me.
Instead, all he did was guarantee I’ll detonate the landmine.
Unlike evening social events, morning activities aren’t optional. I shuffle into the gym a half hour later, still reeling from my conversation with Daniel. The others find me and wave me over, looking much more enthusiastic than I feel. I wish I’d skipped class when Lucy leans close with a grin.
“You’ll never guess who’s here,” she whispers, pointing toward the far corner of the room.
Ben yawns and stretches. “Yeah, he’s been around a lot lately. They must have something on him. I heard he even showed up to his group session this morning.”
“Really? Maybe he’s turning things around.” Lucy studies the figure slumped against the wall with interest that makes me more uncomfortable than Ben’s hatred. Jealousy? Are you actually jealous? Can’t be.
Ben responds with a dry chuckle. “Um, I don’t think so. Your boyfriend is messed up. Look at him.”
I let my gaze wander as well, and my stomach drops. “Maybe he’s just tired,” I say and regret it the second it comes out.
“Yeah, maybe,” Laura says sarcastically.
“Let’s find out.” Ben takes off in Daniel’s direction, and the rest of us follow like the obedient sheep we are.
“If everything you say about him is true, wouldn’t it be better to leave him alone?” I say, not ready to see him again, especially like this.
“What would be the fun in that? Besides, Lucy wants a date,” Ben teases, then winces when she smacks him.
“Not when he’s high. Tell him to get sober, and I’m game.”
He exchanges a grin with Laura that makes me nauseous. Dropping beside his victim, he nudges his shoulder. “Hey, Danny. How’s it going?”
Daniel ignores him, his gaze lifting to mine briefly before he closes his eyes again.
“What’s wrong? Don’t want to chat?” Ben continues.
“I’m always up for puerile sparring,” Daniel mutters, still not looking at us.
