Kill Switch Page 14

It was for my own good, too. I wanted to do more ballet and start regular classes again, maybe shoot for something professionally with the support of my family around me.

“Must have been lonely,” Rika offers.

Someone brushed my shoulder as they rushed by, and I took a moment to steady myself. This was the part of school I wasn’t going to like. The crowded halls, the shouts, laughter, and chatter, and all the eyes. I lifted my chin, hoping I looked relaxed.

“Uh, well…” I joked. “I didn’t really say I wanted to be around people. I just need to learn to be.”

She let out a little laugh and veered right. “Turning,” she whispered, alerting me.

“Actually, I had lots of friends,” I continued, following her. “It wasn’t lonely. It was comfortable. Too comfortable, I guess. I annoy my sister, so since she graduates at the end of the year, I thought it would be my last chance to be around for that.”

She chuckled again. “How fun. I’m an only child.”

I wonder if my parents might’ve kept me around if I had been the only one instead of tucking me away at some distant school for others to deal with.

My face started to warm as we walked, and I wasn’t sure if it was my nerves or what.

“Are people staring at me?” I asked her.

“They’re staring at us.”

“Why?”

I heard her inhale. “I think… they’re confused. We kind of look alike.”

“Do we?” I replied. “Are you hot?”

If she was hot, then I was hot.

But she just laughed.

“When I think about how I must look,” I told her, “I still see the kid I last looked at in the mirror when I was eight.”

“So you can think in…pictures?”

I blinked. Pictures?

She must’ve seen a look on my face, because she rushed to apologize. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That was a dumb question, right?”

I shook my head. “No, I... I’m just used to being around people who understand, I guess. I’ll have to get used to questions.” And then I added, “And making people feel comfortable enough to ask. It’s fine.” I let out a small laugh and licked my lips. “And yes, to answer your question. My brain still works, just not my eyes. When I try to picture things I’ve never seen before, though, like you or the inside of this school, it gets more complicated. Sometimes I map it out in my head, and I can create an impression. Other times it’s just like a color or a feeling or a sound that helps me identify it.”

Then I went through some of the pictures in my head, reflecting on how I drew things in my mind.

“Sometimes,” I continued, “it’s a memory. Like when I think about trees or I’m in the forest around my house, I always picture the last trees I saw. No matter where I am. Every tree looks like the trees in that garden maze with the fountain. Tall hedges, dark green…” I trailed off, the memories of that day flooding me again. “A fountain…”

“Garden maze?” she questioned. “Not the one at Damon Torrance’s house…”

My face fell, and I almost stumbled. Damon.

She said his name so casually, like she assumed I knew exactly who he was, heard his name every day, and he was just any other boy, living and breathing right here in Thunder Bay. All of it so normal to her.

Of course, I knew he still lived here, but having her so casually confirm it all of a sudden reminded me that I’d let my guard down.

The truth was, I hadn’t heard his name in six years. It was never spoken in my house, not since the day I found him sitting in the fountain and ended up covered in blood. Everyone said it was an accident, but he’d scared me that day. He made me fall.

But I knew he’d be here. I just hadn’t let myself think about it, I guess. I was a freshman, and he was a senior, on his way to college in a matter of months. My father wanted me to wait until he was gone—start here my sophomore year—but I wanted to start now. My classmates would be transferring from their middle schools, just like I was transferring, so we’d be on an even keel. In that respect anyway. I wanted all four years with my graduating class.

I’d just avoid him and his circle, but he probably didn’t care to trouble himself with me anyway. I couldn’t imagine how he’d forget, because I never would, but it was possible. Given the time that had passed, maybe I was just a faint memory to him.

“Well…,” Rika began after I didn’t say anything else. “It might be nice to live in my good memories forever.”

I nodded, letting the misconception go. I wish I could remember any other trees but those trees.

We stopped at her locker, and I heard the hollow clunk as she dumped her bag of books into it before taking my bag, as well. Not that I had much in there. Some headphones, a digital recorder the school made me buy to record lectures even though I have an app on my phone for that, my wallet, and of course, my cell.

All of my text books and reading material were downloaded on Audible and on my phone, and I’d left my MacBook in my own locker before Biology, since I’d been told I wouldn’t need it for that class. The text-to-speech feature, where I could type out homework and hear it read back to me to make sure I’d typed correctly, had always been useful, but working in groups and having my earbuds in during class was going to be an obstacle I hadn’t thought of. The learning curve coming here would be steep.

“We’ll pick your stuff up after lunch,” Rika told me.

My locker was at the other end of the hall, and the cafeteria was right here. Something about the way she just took my bag into her space, and reaffirmed that we’d be together this afternoon, too, kind of comforted me. Like I had a place.

Lunch. I let out a breath. It was the part I was dreading the most. Even though the entire morning so far was a running contest for “most awkward.”

The whispers in Algebra.

The awkward silence in French.

The laughter in the science lab when the class president introduced herself and offered to be of any help she could in a really loud voice like I was deaf instead of blind.

The nervous verbal exchange with the P.E. teacher who’d forgotten to accommodate for me in her basketball lesson plan, so she ended up putting me on the treadmill for thirty minutes all by myself.

It was to be expected, I guess. I was the only visually impaired student, and I was the mayor’s daughter. People were curious, while others were just unaware or flustered as to how to interact with me. I supposed the learning curve applied to us all.

“Whoo-hoo!” Loud shouts descended down the hall, and I turned toward the noise, hearing a door swing open and closed a few times as it banged the wall.

Students jostled on both sides of me, squeezing between me and Rika and forcing us farther apart as they tried to get to wherever they were going.

Finally, she took my hand, leading me away. She hadn’t taken my hand all morning, and my mother had made her aware that I didn’t really like that. I preferred to hold on to them, not the other way around.

Plus, it made me feel like a kid.

“Ow, ow, ow!” someone howled, and I jerked my head toward the noise, wondering what was going on. It was lot noisier at this school.

My thumb brushed the cuff of Rika’s shirt as she held my hand in her slender one, and I continued my slow steps through the crowd.

Hadn’t she been wearing a short-sleeved shirt, like a Polo shirt? With a sweater vest, I thought? I felt them both as I’d been holding her arm all morning.

I narrowed my eyes.

And just then, I heard my name.

“Winter!” Rika’s voice called.

And it wasn’t coming from the person holding my hand, either.

I halted.

“Winter!” she shouted again. “Put your hand up, so I can see you!”

I yanked my hand out of the grasp of whoever had me and was just about to raise it, so Rika could find me, but the person grabbed me, I heard a door creak open, and I was shoved, stumbling into a completely different room with a tiled floor under my boots, humid air, and a strange smell, like a mixture of sweat, sporting equipment, and perfume.

Or…a body spray.

I shot my hands out in front of me, breathing hard and noticing the noise around me had changed, too. The distant shouts and chatter from down the hallway were gone, no doors opening and closing, and…no female voices.

“I think you’re in the wrong place, honey,” some guy said, chuckling.

“Whoo-hoo,” another boy cooed as he walked by me, and I heard some whistles go off around the room.

Oh, shit.

My stomach sank.

Who the hell had grabbed me out there? Had Rika seen where I’d gone? Oh, my God. I whipped around, feeling for the door and finding it just a few feet away. But when I pushed on it, it wouldn’t budge. Laughter spilled in from the other side, and tears sprang to my eyes as I pounded on the door. It gave way just an inch, I thought, more giggles filtered in from the outside, and then their weight was against it again, keeping me in.

Goddammit. My heart pounded in my chest. I wasn’t in the locker room. I closed my eyes, praying. Please tell me I’m not in the locker room.

“Need a shower?” a male voice said behind me.

“I think she needs a cold shower, man!” another guy called from farther away.

Laughter echoed around the room, the noise level stinging my ears as more people turned their attention on me. I turned around, holding my hands up just in front of me a little, but blinking away the tears and straightening my shoulders.

The less I reacted, the less they’d react. There had to be a coach in here or a teacher or something.

Stupid me. I knew the teasing or pranking or even bullying was a possibility of someone in my shoes, but I arrogantly thought my status protected me. Or my father’s status, anyway.

But whoever pushed me in here thought of something I didn’t. If I couldn’t see them do it, there was no one to punish.

“Damn,” someone said, and I turned my head toward his voice.