Before You Leave

02. Where Are You Going?

       I haven't bothered to reach out to Gideon. I'm hoping he forgets about the whole ordeal, but that's very unlikely since golden boy wants to get into his precious college.

I wonder what's it's like to have a plan for the future. I would think it's boring just to think so far ahead. Why think everything out when you can be surprised with what's going to happen?

It was four in the morning right now. I hated sleeping, I always have. As cheesy as it is, I loved watcher the sun come up and I loved treasuring time. Time is waste away by sleep and when I stay awake, I'm interested. I loved everything about life, but I hated everything humanity. Ironic.

I checked my phone. Three missed calls from my father. He knew I would be up now. This used to be our thing. We would go outside and go on the roof and watch the sun come up. No doubt he's called the headmaster and checked up on me. He's been so worried about everyone in our family ever since I stared acting out. As if I was going to get set off at any moment and explode.

I still hated it here. I didn't try to make friends yesterday. I didn't even try to talk to anyone. I think I hated the human race in general.

I heard shifting in the hallway and got out of bed. What was that?

I open the door softly, tiptoeing my way into the living room.

To see three boxes in the corner of the room. And Monica was hauling another in her arms, arraigning and grunting from the weight of it. She sighed as she finally sat one on top of one of the three boxes.

"Where are you going?" I ask her, confused as she rolls her shoulders.

She snaps her head to me, wiping sweat off her brow. "Ms. Birchwood said she's making us arrange roommates. Something with that boy Gideon—"

Shit. Fuck. Damn this.

So Gideon's new roommate was me? God, Isabell Birchwood was more of a conniving bitch than I thought. Actually, she wasn't a bitch at all. She was really nice and I just hated that she was clever enough to sike him into this.

The devil himself walked into the room, five duffel bags in hand. He groaned at the heaviness of it as he went to the middle of his room and sat his bags down with a thud. "No help for your new roommate?" He asks. I think he hated this almost as much as I did.

I rolled my eyes. "Carry your own shit, Garret."

"Gideon," he corrected, glaring as he braved his hands on his knees. But his eyes roamed elsewhere.

Monica pushes her boxes into the hallways quickly. She was really strong.

"But really," Gideon says. "Can you help?"

I smiled at him sweetly as I took one of his bags and tossed it at his head.

He glared after it hit his face gently and picked it back up with the other bags on the ground. "Wasn't necessary," he says, his voice straining as he went into Monica's old room.

I blink down at myself. Bra and shorts. Maybe I shouldn't wear this around the place anymore.

He came back into the living room, laptop in hand. I raised an eyebrow.

"We're going to find a club for you to join."

"A club?" I ask, mocking. "Do I look like the type of girl that joins those sorts of things?" I ask, laughing and bursting into hysterics.

He rolled his eyes. "It's a chance for you to meet people."

"I know people."

"Good people."