Chapter Twelve: January 14th

666 83 181
                                    

"Am I too early for the conference?"

Quinn jumped at the soft voice that pierced through the quiet inside the art classroom. Turning around, they found Hannah standing by the door, shifting uncertainly on her feet.

"Hello, Hannah." They offered her a small smile. "You're not too early. Right on time, actually."

With a relieved nod, Hannah took a few steps into the room.

"And it's not a conference," Quinn added, leaning back against one of the desks. "We just want to talk."

Hannah made a face. "We're all meeting at a specific time to talk about a plan you have. That's what conference means."

Quinn had to chuckle at the way she said it, her tone utterly confident even as she couldn't look Quinn in the eye. Before they could respond, another voice cut in. "Is someone being a smarty-pants again?"

At the sight of Vincent, Hannah's face immediately lit up. "I am smart," she stated. "I have listened to more lectures than all of the students here combined."

"That is... probably true," Vincent agreed. Looking at Quinn, he explained, "Hannah loves to sit in on the college courses during the day. She's likely the best-educated twelve-year-old on this planet."

"And all that without paying a single penny in tuition fees," Quinn chuckled.

"The whole range of Oakriver College's education offers for the small price of my life," Hannah said solemnly.

Quinn only realized that the dry tone of her voice had been sarcasm when Vincent burst out laughing.

"Don't mind her. She's been spending too much time around Joy." He gave an affectionate ruffle to Hannah's brown curls before crossing the room to lean against the desk next to Quinn. "Everything okay?"

Quinn gave him a quick once-over—he looked more solid than he had two days ago, his eyes a clear blue—before they nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for telling everyone about our meeting—"

"Conference," Hannah interjected.

"—on such short notice."

"Of course. I can't wait to hear what you found out. You sounded so excited when you told me about your dinner with—"

He was cut off by a brighter, decidedly lively voice. "Oh, hello! What are you doing here after class?"

Quinn's head snapped up in time to see Mrs. Conti squinting at them from the doorway, her heavy CD player in one hand while the other balanced a stack of binders. "Oh. Hello. I-I'm just... trying to find some inspiration," Quinn stammered. "I like being here when everyone else is gone."

"Mh. I see." Mrs. Conti cast a sweeping glance around the empty room before fixing Quinn again. "Do you find yourself being alone a lot, Quinn?"

Quinn blinked. Next to them, Vincent and Hannah had gone very still, as if Mrs. Conti would somehow see them if they moved even an inch. "Uhm. Sometimes? I-I mean, I'm rooming with Valerie so we hang out a lot. Why?"

"It's just that I noticed a... change. In your behavior in class, as well as in the things you hand in." She paused, the downward curl of her bright red lips decidedly unhappy. "It seems as though something is troubling you. I know that college can be a difficult time, and very isolating, sometimes. I just want you to know that whatever it is, you can come talk to me. You know when my office hours are. I am by no means a guidance counselor, but I am an excellent listener if you—"

"That's—that's really kind," Quinn quickly said, trying to ignore Vincent's concerned stare. "But I'm fine, I promise. It's been... a lot, recently, but I'm figuring it out. And I'll try to do better in class. Really."

Dying Is The Easy PartWhere stories live. Discover now