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Chapter no 20

I Hope This Doesn't Find You

โ€ŒRay is trembling.โ€Œ

Whimpering, really. Heโ€™s standing in the middle of the hall in his polka- dot pajamas and clutching his arm, and he looks so alarmed, so horrified, that my first reaction is to search for blood. His clothes are damp and plastered to his skin, but thereโ€™s no trace of red. Itโ€™s only water.

โ€œThe roof is leaking,โ€ย he gasps. โ€œI was doing my skincare routine and I felt a splash of freezing water on myย arm.โ€

โ€œSince when did you have a skincare routine?โ€ Jonathan Sok grumbles behind me.

Unsurprisingly, his screams have drawn everyone out of their rooms; one quick glance around and itโ€™s clear half my classmates are in their

pajamas too. Georgina even appears to have come running straight out of the shower. There are still shampoo bubbles in her hair.

Ray narrows his eyes. โ€œWhatโ€™s wrong with it? Youโ€™re just jealous you donโ€™t have beautiful, shiny skin like me.โ€

โ€œHey,โ€ Jonathan protests. โ€œMy skin is already very shinyโ€”โ€ โ€œYeah, wellโ€”โ€

But Rayโ€™s voice is drowned out by the violent rush of rain outside.

Within seconds, water starts trickling through the ceiling and pooling over the floors.

โ€œSee?โ€ย Ray yelps, lurching back. โ€œItโ€™s everywhere.โ€

โ€œOh perfect! Itโ€™s exactly what I need.โ€ Georgina steps forward until her shampooed hair is positioned right underneath one of the leaks. โ€œThis is what you call being resourceful.โ€

I have to admire her outlook on life. โ€œWhat do we do?โ€ someone asks.

More voices chime in, all of them speaking over one another, over the pouring rain:

โ€œMy clothes are going to be wet. This blazer is dry-clean onlyโ€”โ€ โ€œThe waterโ€™s freezingโ€”โ€

โ€œI canโ€™t sleep like thisโ€”โ€

โ€œSomeone take me homeย right nowโ€”โ€

โ€œWhere are the teachers when you need them?โ€ โ€œI heard they all have food poisoningโ€”โ€

โ€œThis is exactly how all horror movies startโ€”โ€

Thereโ€™s an ache building in the back of my skull. I want to join them. I want to yell and complain and wait for someone else to clean up the mess. But the water is spreading rapidly, and I know the rot will set in if we donโ€™t do something fast. There was a storm just like this a few years ago, and our bakery barely survived it.

I force myself to clench my fingers and unfurl them again. Deep breaths.

One. Two. Three.

โ€œSomeone go get Dave,โ€ I speak up, my voice ringing out in the room.

Everyone falls quiet. โ€œDoes anyone know where he is?โ€

โ€œI, uh, think heโ€™s asleep,โ€ someone offers. โ€œPretty sure I heard him snoring on my way over here.โ€

โ€œGo wake him up,โ€ I instruct. โ€œThere should be mops in the cleaning cabinet, but only heโ€™ll have the keys. In the meantime, everyone go grab buckets or containers from the kitchen or anything you can find to collect the waterโ€”โ€

An audible snort cuts through my sentence.

I swivel around and my stomach turns. Danny is hovering in the back corner, his arms crossed over his chest. I can see those awful words again, as if written in burning red:ย Sadie Wen is a bitch.ย โ€œSeriously?โ€ he asks. โ€œEven when we leave the school, youโ€™re bossing us around?โ€

Ice crawls through my veins. โ€œIโ€™m notโ€”โ€

โ€œWhat, just because youโ€™re the captain? Or because youโ€™re a good student or whatever?โ€ He rolls his eyes. โ€œYou think youโ€™reย soย important, but honestly, weโ€™re all sick of you, Sadie. We donโ€™t have to do anything you say.โ€

I can hear my heart pounding, detonating inside my chest. I wouldnโ€™t be surprised if everyone in this room could hear it too.

โ€œThis really,ย reallyย isnโ€™t the time,โ€ I manage. โ€œI know you hate me, and thatโ€™s fine, but the cabin is literally leaking as we speakโ€”โ€

โ€œDonโ€™t change the topic.โ€

โ€œYouโ€™re the one changing the topic,โ€ I say, incredulous. โ€œIโ€™m just saying that thereโ€™s a much more pressing issue at hand. If you have a solution, Iโ€™m always happy to hear it, but if not, you could at least cooperateโ€”โ€

โ€œStop acting like youโ€™re better than us,โ€ Danny snaps. โ€œYouโ€™re the type to write shady emails about people behind their backs.โ€

โ€œAnd youโ€™re the type to writeย Sadie Wen is a bitchย on a bike shed,โ€ I shoot back.

Thereโ€™s a collective, sharp inhalation from the crowd. โ€œDamn,โ€ somebody mutters.

I canโ€™t even believe the words coming out of my own mouth, but it feels good. Iโ€™m so tired of playing nice, of smiling as people walk over me. What Iโ€™m realizing is that if youโ€™re quiet about the things that hurt you, people are only going to mistake your tolerance for permission. And theyโ€™re going to hurt you again and again. โ€œYeah, I know it was you,โ€ I say coldly, folding my arms across my chest.

Danny stares at me. โ€œYou know? Soย youย were the one who sent Julius to punch me?โ€

The whole room screeches to a stop. The world freezes on its axis. Now itโ€™s my turn to stare. โ€œJulius punched you?โ€

โ€œJulius punched him?โ€ someone else whispers in the background. โ€œBut I thought he and Sadie hated each other.โ€

โ€œBut they kissed each other,โ€ someone says. โ€œAt that party, remember?โ€

โ€œWait, Julius and Sadieย kissed each other?โ€ someone asks. โ€œWhy am I so behind on the gossip? How did I miss this?โ€

โ€œYeah, well, seeing as she sent him a bunch of emailsโ€”โ€ โ€œTechnically, Abigail sent it.โ€

โ€œAbigail sent it? Sadieโ€™s best friend, Abigail?โ€

โ€œSorry, I was walking past their dorm room and kind of overheard a bit of their conversationโ€”I left just as Julius showed up to her room though. So Iโ€™m guessing he likes her.โ€

โ€œWhose room?โ€ โ€œAbigailโ€™s room.โ€

โ€œWait, Julius likes Abigail?โ€

โ€œNo, Julius likes Sadie. They just share the same room.โ€ โ€œHim and Sadie?โ€

โ€œNoโ€”ย Oh my god, this is why youโ€™re so behind on gossip.โ€

Iโ€™m breathing against the knot in my chest and scanning the room, but I canโ€™t find Julius anywhere. I have no idea where he is or what this means or why Iโ€™m doing exactly what Iโ€™d accused Danny of doing earlier: forgetting the issue at hand. Itโ€™s so bizarre how our brains work, how our priorities are organized by emotions instead of actual significance. This cabin could be

flooded soon and still weโ€™d be standing around gossiping, too fixated on our own petty grievances and grudges and crushes to notice the sky falling.

โ€œJust. Stop,โ€ I say to nobody in particular. โ€œStop.ย If you disagree with me, I canโ€™t force you to do much. But if you do agree, then please, listen to me.โ€

I donโ€™t expect anything.

For a long time, it seems that Iโ€™m right not to. Nothing happens.

Nobody moves.

But then Rosie nods and flashes me her best smile. โ€œOkay, I got you. Buckets coming right up.โ€ Itโ€™s like magic. For the first time, I think I truly understand the termย influencer. Because with a few simple words,

everybody has been influenced. Her friends leap into action right away, and someone whips out tape to stop the smaller leaks. The water has already

progressed through most of the room, but we manage to stop it from flowing into the corridor.

Just when I think the worst of it is over, the bulb above me suddenly flickers. Thereโ€™s a loud buzzing sound, like an insect caught in a trap.

And the power goes out.

โ€ข โ€ข โ€ข

The corridor is pitch-black.

I fumble my way alone through the darkness, away from the others, feeling the hard, cool plaster of the walls for support. Outside, the rain is pounding harder than ever. Water slams against the roof and churns through the old pipes. The wind shrieks through the trees, and it sounds eerily like

the wail of a child.

The bare skin on my arms turns into gooseflesh. Iโ€™m sharply aware of every hiss through the cracks in the window, every tremble in the floorboards. I swallow, rub my hands together to warm them, but the wind picks up again, louder. The back of my neck prickles.

Stop it, I command myself, cursing Julius for telling that horrible story.

Itโ€™s completely made up. He just enjoys scaring people.

I take another careful step forwardโ€” And a cold hand wraps around my wrist.

I let out a hoarse shriek. All rational thought abandons me. My fightโ€‘orโ€‘flight instincts kick in, and because thereโ€™s nowhere to run, I can only fight. I jerk back, squirm and punch and kick out like a wild, cornered animal.ย Oh my god, I think hysterically as my fist connects with something hard.ย Iโ€™m about to be murdered by a ghost girl in a cabin in the middle of

nowhere. The school isnโ€™t even going to take responsibility because they made us sign that formโ€”

โ€œSadie. Stop itโ€”ow, stopโ€”โ€

It doesnโ€™t sound like a vengeance-seeking ghost girl. The familiar voice registers a beat too late.ย Julius.ย My body doesnโ€™t understand even though

my mind does; Iโ€™m still thrashing, swinging my fists around. Then the long fingers around my wrist tighten. He grabs my other wrist. Locks both of them together with one hand, pins them to the wall behind me, high above my head.

โ€œHold. Still.โ€

I go still, but my heart continues hammering so hard I can hear the blood rushing through my veins. For more reasons than one. Because soon my eyes have adjusted enough to make out Juliusโ€™s face, bare inches from mine. Heโ€™s breathing hard, the muscles in his arms tensed from holding me in place. One step closer and our lips would touch.

Everything floods through my brain at once. The look on his face when he stood in my doorway. The idea that heโ€™d punched Danny for me. The fact that he heard me state very clearly that I like him so much it feels like a sicknessโ€”

Shut up, I tell my brain.

โ€œWhy did you have to sneak up on me?โ€ I donโ€™t know why Iโ€™m whispering. โ€œI thought you were Scarโ€”โ€ I stop myself, but heโ€™s already heard.

โ€œScarlett?โ€ His smile is sharp in the darkness, like the gleam of a knife. โ€œIโ€™m flattered you found my storytelling skills so convincing. If youโ€™re afraid, you can tell me.โ€

โ€œIโ€™m not.โ€ I am. Scared breathless. Terrified. But I can hardly admit that itโ€™s him Iโ€™m scared of now. Being alone with him. Being in this position. I try to wriggle free, but his grip doesnโ€™t loosen.

โ€œPromise me you wonโ€™t hit me again,โ€ he says. โ€œJuliusโ€”oh my god, just let meโ€”โ€

โ€œPromise,โ€ he insists, his voice pressed close to my ear, the heat of his breath fanning my skin. Goose bumps spread over my body.

I manage a nod, and he releases me at once but doesnโ€™t step back. โ€œI wanted to talk to you,โ€ he says.

My pulse skips.ย Hope.ย Foolish, irrational hope takes root inside me. But I wipe my voice clean of it, because there are countless directions this

conversation could go. He could be here to talk to me about the math test next week. About weather patterns. About how pretty Rosie is. About how theyโ€™ve run out of buckets. If itโ€™s not what I so desperately want it to be, at

least I can save myself the embarrassment of anticipating anything. โ€œWhy?โ€ He huffs out a laugh. โ€œYouโ€™re too smart to act this slow. You know why.

We both do.โ€

โ€œWhat, are you going to accuse me of pitying you? Of being too nice?โ€ I ask. Itโ€™s a challenge. This is what we do, I realize. We talk in circles. We give each other riddles, confounding clues, half answers. Everything and anything but the truth.

โ€œNoโ€” No, Iโ€™m sorry for that,โ€ he says quickly. Swallows. Heโ€™s never sounded so nervous, so unsure of himself, and I find my anger bleeding out of me. โ€œI didnโ€™t mean to say those things. I shouldnโ€™t have assumed . . .

There were only two possible explanations for why you were acting the way you were, and the other seemed too unlikely. And I wasโ€”scared.โ€

โ€œScared?โ€ The last of my frustration vanishes like smoke in a breeze. Itโ€™s almost funny; nobody else infuriates me like he does, but nobody else makes it this difficult to stay mad. โ€œOf what?โ€

โ€œLosing,โ€ he whispers. I stare.

โ€œYou have to understand . . . If you knew the effect you had on me, how often I think about you, the things I would do for you . . . I wouldnโ€™t stand a chance against you ever again. You would have taken everything from me,โ€ he goes on in a rush, like the words are burning him from within, like he

has to get it out before the pain becomes overwhelming. โ€œNot just a debating championship or some points for a test or a fancy award or a spot in a competitionโ€”but my whole heart. My pride. God, myย sanity. It would be all over. You would annihilate me.โ€

I keep staring. Iโ€™m afraid to so much as blink, to breathe, afraid itโ€™ll shatter whatever wild fantasy or lucid dream this is. He canโ€™t possibly be saying these things to me.ย Aboutย me.

โ€œI mean, nothing has even really happened between us,โ€ he says hoarsely, โ€œand already itโ€™s hard for me to concentrate whenever youโ€™re around. My brother was right, in a sense, about you being a distraction, except youโ€™re so much more than that. I canโ€™t pretend to care about the

things that once interested me. I canโ€™t fall asleep. I play through every look youโ€™ve ever cast in my direction. I read through your emails over and over until theyโ€™re carved into my memory. You did this to me,โ€ he says, and thereโ€™s a rough, bitter edge to his voice now, nearly an accusation.

My knees buckle. Itโ€™s too much to absorb. I feel myself slide down against the wall, sink onto the floor.

โ€œYou had to write those awful emails,โ€ he continues, lowering himself down next to me. Except heโ€™s kneeling, and heโ€™s still too close. Iโ€™m convinced he can hear my heart thrumming. โ€œYou had to kiss me, then kick me, then fill my head with your voice. You made it clearโ€”so terribly clear

โ€”how much you hate me. That Iโ€™m the last person in the world you would ever consider. But I kept looking for signs that would suggest otherwise. I kept wondering if it was still possible. Because Iโ€™m willing to lose

everything,โ€ he says, his eyes blacker than the surrounding darkness, than the sky outside, โ€œso long as I donโ€™t lose you.โ€

Iโ€™m stunned.

It canโ€™t be a fantasyโ€”Iโ€™m certain of that now. My own imagination couldnโ€™t conjure something like this.

โ€œOf course, if you . . . if you donโ€™t want to,โ€ he says into the silence, sliding his gaze away from me, โ€œI can accept that. I wonโ€™t bring it up again. I know Iโ€™m not . . . I know what Iโ€™m like. That Iโ€™m infuriating. And selfish. And cruel. I know Iโ€™m not perfect the way my brother is, and I manage to disappoint my parents every time. Itโ€™s okay if you donโ€™t choose me, reallyโ€” I never expected to be the first choice. I wouldnโ€™t blame youโ€”โ€

โ€œI do choose you.โ€

He doesnโ€™t seem to hear me at first. Heโ€™s still talking, rambling really, the words flowing out like rainwater. โ€œI canโ€™t always say pretty things, and sometimes I tease you when really I just want you to look my way, andโ€”

Wait.โ€ He stops. Even his breath freezes in his throat. โ€œWhat . . . did you just say? Say it again.โ€

โ€œI choose you,โ€ I say quietly, glad for the shadows concealing my flushed cheeks. For the support of the wall behind me. โ€œYouโ€™ll always be my first choice, Julius Gong.โ€

โ€œReally?โ€

โ€œReally.โ€

His eyes widen, and he leans in, lips parted, his fingers trembling like moth wings over my cheeks. Itโ€™s clear what he wants, and I almost let him. But Iโ€™m not going to make itย thatย easy.

I twist my head away. โ€œI recall you saying you would rather die than kiss me again.โ€

He lets out a soft, half-stifled groan, and the sound shoots straight through my bloodstream. Makes my pulse quicken. โ€œGod, you really know how to hold a grudge.โ€

โ€œTheyโ€™re your words, not mine,โ€ I tell him, refusing to sway.

โ€œYouโ€™re killing me now,โ€ he murmurs against my neck. His lips graze my skin, and his other hand slides up, tangles in my hair, his nails lightly scraping my scalp. Despite myself, I feel my resolve buckle. โ€œIsnโ€™t that

enough?โ€

โ€œNo.โ€ I try to ignore it. The heat in my veins. The crisp scent of him, peppermint and rain. For once I have all the power, and Iโ€™d be a fool to let it go without putting up a good fightโ€”no matter how badly I want him to just kiss me.

โ€œFine, then.โ€ His breath warms the shell of my ear. Tickles my cheek. โ€œPlease.โ€

I can feel my heart pounding. โ€œWhat?โ€ โ€œPlease, Sadie. Iโ€™m begging.โ€

A triumphant grin splits over my face. โ€œAll right. I suppose, in that case

โ€”โ€

He doesnโ€™t even give me a chance to finish my sentence. His mouth is

on mine in an instant, desperate, urgent. And I cave in. I hate surrendering,

but maybe itโ€™s different when youโ€™re both surrendering to the same thing,

because this doesnโ€™t feel awful. The opposite, actually. My brain is buzzing, but all my thoughts are floating, nonsensical fragments as he deepens the kiss, wraps a hand around my waist, forces me farther back until my spine

is pressed flat to the wall. Thoughts like:

If you told me this would happen a year ago, my head would explodeโ€” I swear to god if anybody hears usโ€”

Maybe the emails werenโ€™t such a disaster after allโ€” His lips are so softโ€”

His handsโ€” Juliusโ€” Julius.

โ€œJulius,โ€ I gasp.

I feel him smile against my lips. His voice is raw silk. โ€œYes?โ€ โ€œNโ€‘nothing. I justโ€”โ€ Itโ€™s hard to focus. I squeeze my eyes shut. โ€œIt just

doesnโ€™t feel real.โ€

He shifts back, and the sudden absence almost feels like physical painโ€” until he kisses the curve of my neck. Murmurs, โ€œI know. Even when I was imagining itโ€”โ€

โ€œYou imagined this?โ€

He pauses, which feels like unfair punishment. Then he brings his lips firmly up to mine again. โ€œDo you always pay such close attention to everything people say?โ€ he demands between short, uneven breaths.

โ€œNo. Only what you say.โ€

A sharp intake of air. โ€œYou have to stop doing that, Sadie.โ€ His hand tightens around my waist. โ€œI wonโ€™t survive it.โ€

Iโ€™m not sure how Iโ€™ll surviveย this, this overwhelming jumble of sensation, the want blazing through my body like wildfire, the need for more overriding all impulse controlโ€”

He kisses me harder, and I can barely get out my next words. โ€œWaitโ€” Julius, waitโ€”โ€

With what seems like immense difficulty, he pulls away by just an inch, his eyes black and heavy lidded. He looks nearly intoxicated, delirious. I touch the base of his neck, feel the pulse striking his veins. The way it picks up beneath my fingertips. โ€œWhat is it?โ€

โ€œWhat if weโ€™re bad at this?โ€ I ask in a small voice.

In response, he only moves close to me, wonderfully, terrifyingly close, his mouth traveling over my jaw, and everything is spinning, spinning out of control, my heartbeat racing ahead of me. I almost forget how to speak. How to breathe. โ€œDoes this feel bad to you?โ€

โ€œNo, I donโ€™t meanโ€”โ€ I tilt my head back without thinking. โ€œI mean, you and me.ย Weโ€™ve hated each other for ten years, made each otherโ€™s lives difficultโ€”how do you knowโ€”โ€ I will myself to stay focused as he brushes a thumb over my lower lip. โ€œWhat if weโ€™re bad atโ€”liking each other? What if we donโ€™t know how to beโ€”civilโ€”or niceโ€”โ€

โ€œIโ€™m not planning on being particularly nice,โ€ he whispers. โ€œAnd I donโ€™t expect you to be either.โ€

โ€œButโ€”โ€

โ€œItโ€™sย us, Sadie,โ€ he says, like thatโ€™s answer enough. โ€œWhen have we been bad at anything?โ€

He has a point. A very good one. And in either case, I donโ€™t have the strength to argue any further, because heโ€™s kissing me again, and itโ€™s everything. Itโ€™s so satisfyingly perfect. Itโ€™s as if Iโ€™ve been suffocating in

silence for days, months, years, and now I can finally inhale. Nothing has ever made as much sense as his hands on my waist, his heart hammering against my rib cage, the involuntary sound he makes when I adjust my posture, slide my hand farther down his neck to the hollow of his collarbones. He says my name, whispers it like itโ€™s sacred. And just when Iโ€™m wondering how we could ever stop this, how I could ever do anything except listen to his sharp intakes of breath, let him kiss me until my head goes fuzzyโ€”

The lights come back on.

I blink, half-blinded, and jerk away from him. It takes a second before my eyes stop watering and my vision clears. An immediate flush races up my neck when I see Julius. His lips are swollen, his black hair rumpled from where I ran my fingers through it.

It feels like that surreal moment in the cinemas, when the credits start rolling and the doors open and the strangers around you rise from their seats, gathering their popcorn buckets and switching on their phones. And part of you is still reeling, still immersed in another world, your heart caught in your throat, struggling to tell which part is real life.

Then I find Julius watching me nervously. Like heโ€™s waiting for me to tell him. To take it all back, now that the cover of darkness is gone and I can see him clearly for the first time.

My heart throbs.

I want him to know he looks more beautiful than ever in the light, up close. I want to kiss him again, until all his doubts dissipate to nothing. I want to take away everything thatโ€™s ever hurt him. But for now, I simply

smile at him. Hold out my hand. โ€œCome on. Letโ€™s see how bad the damage is.โ€

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