“What kind of joke is that?” I laughed, nervously. I couldn’t hide my anxiousness. This was not part of the plan.
Turning back, deep in my mind and soul, I was convinced that it was KN—probably with a knife—although that sounded absurd. But really, things between KN and I were already at that level, so anything was possible now.
But who I found standing behind me was no other than Grayson Phillips, famously known as the only pronounced senior nerd and currently my number one Finn suspect.
“Yours?” Grayson asked, looking at my humming phone, with all due suspicion.
“No?” I should have kept my phone in silent mode. Why didn’t I remember changing my favorite ringtone?
Beep. Bop. Beep. Someone’s calling you, Fiona.
My personalized, and now troublesome, ringing tone went on and on.
Busted.
“My cousin’s?” I tried making up an excuse, but the shuddering in my voice was so clear that it didn’t do me any good.
“Cousin’s?”
“Yes, I have a cousin. Her name is Fiona. She’s wonderful and...” I stammered, sharing the untrue story of my life.
“Fiona?” Grayson was not amused… at all. “Your cousin’s name is your ringtone?”
“It could happen.” I stared at the floor, embarrassed. From my personal experience of being a boy, which was only a little over three weeks now—wait, yeah, it was taking me this long, unfortunately—I had already made an undeniable long list of slip-ups, making me one scientific calculator that by now had already reached its syntax error state.
“Do you expect me to believe that?” Grayson continued, breaking his one word habit.
“Ha... ha... you’re not thinking that I’m—”
“Are you a girl?” Grayson cut me off. “You look like one, act like one, and sometimes, you sound like one.”
“Dude, you shouldn’t say that. You don’t know what line you are crossing right now,” I heard myself say. Oh, yes. Grayson had already crossed the line. He was now one of the enlightened! He knew a secret that could endanger the lives (and my dad’s job) of many people. It was more than one, so it was plenty.
“What line?” Grayson crossed his eyebrows. The light behind him, the one flickering, continued its toll. I hated glinting lights and being in this situation.
“What? Do you think I’m a girl?” I huffed, acting like I was getting angry about all this. Logically speaking, it should really make me raged if I was actually a boy. I always saw that in shows, movies, or in a normal life setting. And most of the time, it led to one unpleasant encounter of a fist and a face.
But instead of being swayed, and probably feeling the slightest tinge of fear with my words, I found him crossing his arms over his chest, studying me instead. Grayson was far from being intimidated. Rather, he looked inquisitive and interested in what I would do next.
Now, I knew I should have learned how to punch. How should I even feel about this? Vexed? That was offensive, right? But I didn’t feel a thing. In fact, all I could think about was that Grayson knew!
He freaking knew everything.
Well, maybe not really everything. But definitely, it was the greater part of that said everything. Knowing that I was a girl would lead him to ask for the remaining quarter portion of the pie chart of my ultimate reason—the one that would explain why I was in this school.
Grayson’s stares were rigid, like he was sure of the said accusation, but he couldn’t point out the reason. Trust me, no one could ever tell, unless that person would hear it from me.
And I shouldn’t let him know... ever.
Now, I really had to punch him, or else I would also fail at not even trying. And thus, with all the hesitation, I started the matter by clenching my fist. Yes, I clenched it. This was for real. I was going to smack his face.
But honestly, no one had ever taught me how to punch. Exertion of physical force wasn’t really my thing.
Of course, along the line of clenching my fist, unsteadily, I also acted provoked. And thus, doing so, I garnered a swing, followed by a haul, and then the absolute landing of my fist on his face.
It landed all right.
But instead of him, it was I who yelped, “Ouch!”
“Everything all right there?” a voice echoed across the empty room. The librarian must be thinking that I’d been attacked in this dimly lit room full of harmless books.
“Lower your voice,” Grayson hissed at me, rubbing his face. “Didn’t anyone tell you to punch with your first two knuckles and not your fist straight?”
The pain was radiating everywhere. No one had ever told me that punching involved knuckles. How would I know that? I should have listened to my instinct. Blowing his face was definitely a bad idea. He only hardened his jaw, and I only ended up tickling his left cheek.
“Did something happen?” the librarian asked again at the top of her voice, sounding a bit worried.
Grayson continued shaking his head in disbelief, a smile treading his lips as he shouted back, “No, Mrs. Shards. Everything’s fine. He just stumbled on something.”
“No, it’s not,” I mumbled in a low voice, complaining about what I assumed to be my now broken hand.
“I don’t think it’s damaged. The punch was not that hard anyway,” Grayson said back to me, dragging me to the corner. That sounded a lot like an insult. “And can you stop complaining? You don’t want the librarian to hear that voice and come over here to find out everything else.”
“Like you wouldn’t say a thing,” I replied with sarcasm, feeling a bit insulted that my first punch in my entire life was useless.
“Why are you dressed up like that? And the hair. It doesn’t seem to be fake,” Grayson observed, his eyes tracing my figure.
“Because it’s not,” I said with remorse.
“Really? But why? You don’t seem to enjoy it,” he said, curiosity eminent in his voice.
“Please don’t tell. I’m begging you,” I pleaded instead of answering his questions.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head in response, looking confused. I saw it in his eyes that he wanted to hand me over to the authorities. After all, it was the right thing to do. Entering this school was clearly against the rules.
“Please.”
“You have to at least explain to me why.” Well, that was the tricky part. Would he let me off the hook if I wouldn’t tell him a thing?
But before I could even answer the question in my head, I heard the exit door of the library open. Footfalls echoed along after it closed. I composed myself, utterly setting aside my throbbing hand. Two people finding out that I was a girl would surely lead to one heck of a disaster. Or need I remind myself that I was already in one?
“Hey, you! The assistant director is looking for you.” And so here arrived the guy I’d assumed would be here. In casual clothes, he looked somewhat gorgeous. I wasn’t aware that he could look this comely, but his rough voice contradicted the said compliment.
Disappointed with his sudden arrival, I muttered, “KN.”
Grayson bent down and picked up the hard-covered book I was holding a moment ago, as well as my now silenced phone. He handed me back my phone and placed the book on the shelf. His face now contained his usual distant expression, lips forming a thin line instead of an inquisitive one. Not even a trace of the smile that was there a moment ago. I tried asking him in my mind if he would tell anyone about my secret, but none of his expressions answered my contemplations.
“Mind if I take him for a while? Willow’s pestering me,” KN said to Grayson.
Willow was the assistant director of the dormitory. I wondered what she wanted from me. He looked annoyed most of the time, but it seemed like he was already near the limits. KN appeared like he was doing this extra mile of fetching me, when evidently, it was the last thing he wanted to do.
But it wasn’t just him. Being fetched was the last thing on my mind right now. I wanted to stay here and make Grayson swear to secrecy. Of course, I needed to be near Grayson in order to do so.
“Sure,” Grayson told him passively.
As for Grayson, he was back to his single words again. From past observations, it was his habitual way of making people refrain from talking to him any further. Aside from Micah, Mr. Normal, he never talked that much to anyone.
See? Someone was doing her observations well.
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