Lone [MATURE HS]

CHAPTER 43

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I'm bracing myself for the day as it comes closer and closer. Time appears to be moving faster as I'm dreading a point in the future I already knew of. I experience hunger, exhaustion, distress, and all the normal, daily symptoms of human life as they come naturally. The death of Harry's father was coming, a week away. And when I sleep, I have nightmares of the day, and the potential of its collateral damage.

Walking across campus, I'm faced with the sight of a familiar blonde. She sits at a table, holding a phone in one hand and sipping from a steel water bottle held in the other. I raise my eyebrows and slow my pace, observing her quietly. Suddenly, I'm reminded that Harry and I had seen Deborah leaving the apartment of my first floor neighbor, Kennedy. He was not the kind of man I thought Deborah would set her eyes on and choose to cheat on Cassiel with, but the sight was so shocking that I believe Harry and I were overwhelmed with everything else to consider her role in this conspiracy.

I narrow my eyes, sighing deeply before making my way towards her. She hasn't spoken to me in our seminar class. That doesn't happen until next week, right before the death of Harry's father. My confidence has surged as I'm vividly aware of all the steps that proceed the last. This dream was a rerun of my life, and I was given the insight to look at things in a different fashion that I had before. I wondered about that, too. About my perception of the world.

Deborah aimlessly scrolls on her phone. I stare at her perceptively, my strides slowing the closer I get to her. I'm hesitant but determined, unabashed by the blunt force of my motivation. Just like Charlie advised, I had to think carefully about who I spoke to, and how I went about questioning those I suspected were involved.

Tightening my fist, I force a sweet smile on my face and speak up, tearing her away from her phone. She looks up at me just as I'm cheerfully saying, "Hey. Deborah, right?" I nervously grip the strap of my bag across my shoulder, knuckles flushing white. The fisted hand by my side releases as I remind myself that I knew nothing about her.

She stares at me momentarily, surprise stalling her reaction. "Um...yeah. I'm sorry, do I...know you?" Her first inquiry comes with confusion, until she quickly recalls, gasping with recognition. "Wait, you're from my seminar class."

"Yeah," I nod eagerly, "I just recognized you and came to say hi. I don't have any friends in that class."

"Oh, me either. Everyone in that class just speaks over each other for the grade. It's kill or be killed," she jokes, setting her steel water bottle down. "You can join me, if you want," she then offers, her hand beckoning me to sit across from her.

I take the metal chair by the back of it, gingerly pulling it away from the table before taking my seat. I set my bag down onto the ground and look over at her. I'm impatient and a little unmotivated to keep conversing with her about things that are not imminent. But, I knew I had to have some kind of strategy. And if it meant being closer to people than beforehand, then I was going to be impatient patiently.

That day I had tied my hair up into a ponytail, the long strands touching the very top of my middle back, a skimpy, black ribbed tank top exposing the skin there. It was a hot and humid day, but the wind was blowing ever so gently. It had almost a calming effect. A few loose strands at the front wrapped around the front of my face, tickling my nose and cheeks. I reach my hand up to remove them, just as Deborah gushes, "So, besides seminar class...what's your major? Anything interesting happening to you on your perspective of the campus? I'm so bored of my life."

I almost genuinely smile at her. If she wasn't so strangely entangled into this conspiracy, I would have actually liked her. But that was a strong maybe. She was a bit reactive and explosive when it came to Cassiel, who she eventually cheats on with Kennedy, of all men in the area. I was curious as to know what the story was, but I didn't know how to approach it. At this point in time, I did not know if she knew anything of Kennedy. If she even knew who he was. I had theorized that maybe Kennedy was using Deborah to get information about Harry and I's whereabouts around campus. I didn't know what happened to her after he had gotten arrested. These are all things I should be aware of when I wake up from this nightmare.