Hateful by Eden Beck

Chapter Fourteen

It’s not exactly nighttime.In fact, it’s barely past noon. People still buzz around the hallways, students and professors alike flitting back and forth like bees in a hive. Or fish in a barrel.

I shove my hands inside my hoodie pockets and just try to blend into the crowd.

I’m not sure how many people can recognize me by my silhouette alone. Despite how rich everyone is, I’m not the only student whose fashion choice is oversized hoodies outside of class, but I still try to stick to the edges of hallways, to shadows.

I have to go look in places I haven’t explored within the school. I have to find the records room.

There’s the dean’s office—I could try there. It seems logical to me that the records room would be nearby. I’ve never been to the dean’s office, of course, but I head in the vague direction of where I think it could be. I don’t have my map of the school with me. I doubt it’d have the records room labeled anyway.

As ignorant as the staff here like to play at times, they’re not as dumb as they look.

At least, I don’t think they are.

I run into fewer and fewer students as I wander further and further from the dining hall, my rage toward Jasper still churning in my stomach. Fuck him, fuck The Brotherhood, and fuck this school. Other girls should absolutely be able to come here. Maybe it would cut down on stupid shit like this.

It would certainly stop anyone else from unwittingly putting themselves in my position.

I walk past a few older students, guys I haven’t met but recognize from the dining hall or courtyard. They avert their eyes as I avert mine. Do they recognize me as The Brotherhood’s bitch? Do they recognize me at all, or am I just being paranoid? I don’t know.

The ibuprofen still hasn’t quite kicked in, so I end up limping a little as I mosey along the hallways. I’m aching for a place to sit down. But I’m stubborn; I want to at least find the damn place first. Today isn’t the right time to do the whole thing, to break in and steal shit, but I can work on getting my bearings later.

An older student pauses and frowns at me as my hurt knee buckles a bit beneath me, causing me to stumble.

“You okay?” he asks in a deep voice, turning back to look me over concernedly once he’s a few steps away.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Really.”

I’m about to hastily shuffle away when an idea occurs to me. I stop and turn back just in time to catch sight of the older boy before he turns down the hall. If he really didn’t recognize me, then there’s no hurt in just … well … asking, is there?”

“Hey, wait!” I call after him. I wait until he stops and glances back, my words suddenly running into each other in my nervousness. “I—uh—do you know where the student records room is?”

I wait with bated breath, knowing it’s a long shot.

A long shot that pays off, apparently.

“Sure. Around that corner to the left, just past the dean’s office. Did you need anything in there?”

“Uh—” I avoid looking him directly in the eyes, but we’re not close enough together for him to notice. At least I hope so.

“The nurse sent me,” I finally manage. As far as lies go, it’s not my best, but I’m working on very little brainpower right now.

“Well, good luck getting in. It’s always locked.” The guy shrugs and turns the corner, out of sight.

Always locked. That’s just my luck. Determined to see it with my own eyes, I follow the upperclassman’s directions, rounding the bend and walking briefly down the hall. There are only a few closed doors. It’s not hard to find the dean’s office—it’s the only open one. Light tumbles out of it and forms a bright square on the hallway floor.

And just past that door, almost right next to it, is a plain wooden door with a small brass plaque that says “RECORDS”.

There it is.

It’s so simple, I don’t know how Headmistress Robin herself has never noticed.

She must spend most of her time prowling the rest of the school, looking for vulnerable girls to exploit.

Me? I’ve never been back here. I want to examine it closer, see if maybe it’s not locked all the time? Maybe it’s easy to pick … not that I know how to pick locks. But then maybe the key is somewhere easy to find? Stuck under a table or over a doorway or something.

I edge closer, unwilling to let myself walk across the pool of light in front of the dean’s office. I don’t want him asking me any questions that I can’t give good answers to. I stick to the wall and creep right up next to the doorway, waiting only a second to suck in a quiet breath before I chance a peek inside.

Dean Withers is in there, staring blankly at a computer screen. I can hear him clicking the mouse occasionally. Would he notice if I bolted across the doorway? Am I even allowed to be back here? I haven’t seen any other students aside from the one I passed further back.

My best bet is to be calm about it.

I walk casually past his office and sure enough, his eyes flick up to me and then straight back to his computer.

I allow myself a brief pause to listen for any sign of him getting up from his chair, and hearing nothing, carefully reach out to touch the doorknob to the records room.

I’m here. It’s right here.

And it’s locked.

A small sense of relief washes over me. Rather than stick around and get caught, I hurry off down the hallway feeling like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. So much for high-quality reconnaissance; but at least I know where the damn thing is now.

Next, just to find a way inside.

* * *

My legs feel just finethe next day, but I use them as an excuse to stay in my room instead of attending the debate—which the girls’ school wins, as I predicted. Rafael gleefully gives me the rundown, telling me that Beck just kept shouting, Heath hadn’t seemed to prepare anything at all, and Jasper struggled to hold on to arguments that were flimsy at best.

“He was kind of off,” Rafael says thoughtfully as he stretches out on his bed, scrolling through his phone. “I don’t know why, but he seemed weird. Distracted. Sad,” he adds, turning over onto his back. He keeps his gaze firmly fixed on his phone. “Would you know anything about that?”

“Nope.”

I roll over onto my other side, facing away from him to hide my expression. It’s an obvious lie, but Rafael doesn’t press me. I don’t care that Jasper’s sad because of what I said.

If anything, I get a grim satisfaction from it.

The next morning, I get up and start getting dressed for a run. Rafael groans and pushes his puffy blankets down off his face and glares at me.

“Be quieter,” he says groggily.

I shut my dresser drawer louder than I usually do before shooting him a devilish grin and finish getting dressed. Outside, it’s still freezing cold, but I know that after I get going I’ll get warm enough. I head out to my usual trail.

As is becoming more and more usual lately, Heath is already waiting for me when I round the first bend. He looks up with a grin, but I roll my eyes and blow past him.

“Hey, wait!” He speeds up to catch up to me, falling into step at my side. “What’s up? You mad at me?”

“Do you not remember what happened a couple days ago?”

“I didn’t know he was going to do that,” Heath replies, and I hear sincerity in his voice. “You know how Beck is.”

“There was no way you could’ve stopped him?”

“I thought we were just walking behind you,” he says to me, huffing a little. “I didn’t know what he was going to do until he’d already kicked you.”

I grit my teeth and pick the pace up a little, reveling in the way Heath’s breaths get more labored. “How am I supposed to believe that?”

“You don’t have to. It’s the truth, though.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see him shrug as well as he can mid-stride.

In truth, I do believe him … but I don’t tell him that. I just drop my pace a little so he can catch up without him actually realizing I’m letting him catch up.

Eventually I have to slow to a stop to take a break at my usual place beneath a big gnarled tree. The snow crunches beneath my shoes as I walk over to it. I lean against its twisted trunk and run my fingers down the rough bark, close my eyes, and breathe in the scent of the snow.

“You’ve really been running a lot,” Heath says, plopping down on a pile of snow beside me. His face is bright red beneath his hat, and sweat drips down in rivulets along the side of his face—seconds away from freezing as soon as they’ve left the warmth of his skin.

“Yeah? So have you,” I retort.

He grins back at me. “What are you training for, anyway?”

“Training?” I don’t sit. I know that if I do, I’ll relax, and it’ll be harder to run back down the trail. I peel off a piece of bark to fidget with, trying to think of a response. I can’t exactly tell him that I’m trying to run my girly ass off so that I can pass better as a boy.

“Yeah,” Heath says, interrupting my thoughts. “Seems like you’re training.”

“I don’t even know why you’re asking.” I break the bark in half thoughtfully. “You and Beck and Jasper have been one step away from beating me to a pulp all year.”

Heath laughs and lounges back in the snow. I wonder just how wet his butt is going to be once we get moving again.

“Running isn’t going to help you fight, Alex.”

“No,” I agree, “but it’ll help me get away.”

His smile turns just a bit, and he looks down at his gloved hands. “That’s kind of sad.”

I shrug. “I guess my life has been kinda sad lately, then.”

He doesn’t answer for a while. I watch him as he pulls his hat off his head. Beneath it, his brown hair is tousled and unkempt, and just a little sweaty from all the activity. Last semester, he was the star of the lacrosse team. I know he’s athletic.

I wonder if I’ve actually been slowing him down on our runs, if this whole thing is just another act.

This whole thing could be an act. Him. The running. The banter.

I wouldn’t put it past The Brotherhood to sick him on me just to make sure I don’t get too comfortable around here.

Heath must feel the weight of my gaze, because he glances up at me and for a moment our eyes meet. His are dark, almost mysterious. I can’t deny that he’s hot—sexy, even. His eyes smolder as he gazes at me, a smile tugging at one corner of his lips.

“You’re a strange guy, Alex,” he says finally. His tone is different. It’s changed, become soft, inviting. He smiles the most genuine smile I’ve seen anyone in The Brotherhood manage. “I like that about you.”

My heart thumps heavily in my chest. The way he’s looking at me through his eyelashes, with his gaze flicking from my eyes to my lips … is he flirting? With me? Does he suspect that I’m a girl?

Or … does he believe I’m a guy?

And he’s okay with that. Or maybe more than okay with that.

I look back at him. There’s a bit of me that wants to kiss him … right here. Right now. I mean, he’s attractive, there’s no doubt about that. He’s one of the most handsome guys at school. One of the most handsome I’ve ever met.

But if he wants to flirt with guy Alex, would he still want to flirt with girl Alex? Despite how I look, despite everything I’m doing to hide it, I’m still a girl. And anyone who tries to link themselves with me romantically is going to have to understand that.

But it doesn’t stop me from momentarily, just for a second, imagining what it would be like to kiss the last of The Brotherhood.

Heath stands up and takes a step toward me. Reflexively, I flinch away.

“Break’s over,” I hear myself saying, as I focus instead on shaking my head to clear it.

Heath’s face falls a little, but he recovers quickly, shoving his hat back onto his head. “Sure. Let’s get going, then.”

I nod and turn away from him. Part of me is cursing myself. Why couldn’t I just let him get close?

Because it would be wrong,a voice inside my head chides me annoyingly. I start jogging back toward the school. It’d be dishonest. He thinks you’re a boy. He seems to like boy-Alex.

Despite what he’s done to me, there’s a quiet innocence to Heath. It’s contradictory at best, but it’s there nonetheless … and it makes me want to protect him.

Maybe I really am the most fucked up one of all.

The two of us are quiet the rest of the way back. It feels like a longer trip this time. Heath slows as we get to the bend in the trail where he usually joins me. Normally I just keep running past him.

This time, I stop.

He stops too, a bit of surprise registering across his face.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Why do you always stop here?” I ask him, knowing full well the answer but not expecting him to answer it truthfully. Which is why I’m surprised when he does.

“It’s out of sight of the school,” he replies easily, his eyes not leaving mine.

I blink, lost for words. I really didn’t think he’d admit that.

“So you don’t want to be seen with me, then?”

Heath shrugs and folds his arms across his chest. “I can’t. It’d be bad for The Brotherhood’s image. Wouldn’t look good to be paling around with our bitch, y’know?”

I groan in frustration. “Why is that even important?” I ask. “Why does that matter at all to you?”

“The Brotherhood is a time-honored tradition,” Heath replies. He shifts his weight, this time sticking his hands into his coat pockets. “The founders were their own Brotherhood when it started. And then their descendants formed the next. It’s been that way for generations. It’s a tradition that deserves to be upheld.”

“It’s stupid,” I retort.

He shrugs again. “Maybe. But just because it’s stupid doesn’t mean it’s not important.”

I clamp my mouth shut. I have absolutely no clue what to say to that. So with a sigh, I turn away and start jogging back toward the school.

“See you tomorrow!” Heath calls after me cheerfully.

I have to fight a smile as I jog off.

Stupid Heath.

Stupid, handsome, Heath. And I thought it was Jasper who was going to get me killed.