Chapter 72 CRACKS IN HER SHIELD.
SLOANE’S POINT OF VIEW.
THE DEBATE.
I took deep breaths as I paced up and down through my corridor. My thoughts drifted to the text I’d gotten last night while preparing for this debate.
‘You’re in danger because of who you are.’
I had another nightmare last night, too. This time, it was the entire school laughing at me as they threw rotten tomatoes at me. In that dream, even Lucien laughed along with them as he poured a bucket of expired milk all over me.
My skin crawled with fear as I stopped my pacing. My chest constricted, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t fucking breathe again.
What if I fail?
What if my nightmare comes true?
What if everyone truly starts hating me again?
What if I fail?
I missed my father because I knew he would have been here, telling me everything would be okay. All I wanted to do was hide in a small circle and wait for the world to freeze over. I didn’t want to do this anymore…I just want to fucking quit it all.
I would usually be confident, unafraid even, but the weight of it all, the texts, my recurring nightmares, the weight of having to choose a damn college soon, or if I want to actually pursue my conflicted dreams of cooking, singing, or the arts…I was overwhelmed.
My lips wobbled, as tears welled in my eyes. I fell to my knees and sobbed silently. My body shook from the force of my sobs, as tears streamed down my cheeks.
I wanted to fucking hide, and no longer pretend it wasn’t all eating me up.
Who could be sending these messages?
Who the hell was playing me like this?
And why?
They keep telling me who I am…who the fuck am I to them?
I pulled my phone from the floor and dialed the number of the one person who knew me well enough to calm me whenever this started.
“Hi, Dad,” I whispered once the call connected.
“Hey, baby!” He said, his voice pitched high. “How are you?” He asked, and I frowned.
Something isn’t right…he would never speak like this.
“Dad,” I said, trying to ignore the odd feeling. “How’s work? How’s London…is everything okay?”
“Yes, sweetheart. How about you? How’s school? Anything new and interesting?”
He doesn’t know about you and Lucien’ my subconscious whispered, and guilt wrapped itself around me, as my lips wobbled again.
“Yeah…I have a national debate coming up today, I’m so nervous.” I whispered the last part like it was a taboo. I’ve always been confident in my academic prowess, not because I’m cocky, but because I know if I put in the work, I’d make it.
“Honey…uh.” He trailed off and coughed. “Can I please call you later? I’m busy.” He said, making me frown. This was unlike him; he was always ready to comfort me when I needed it.
Before I could say anything else, the line cut off, the beeping sound rendering me speechless.
I stared at my phone for what felt like hours, my tongue felt tied, as I blinked at my screen, hoping this was some nightmare I would wake up from soon.
Before I could fully register it, my phone beeped from a notification.
‘Ready for today? I heard you’ll be on fucking TV.’ The unknown number texted.
A chill ran up my spine, as my brows creased with sweat. I suddenly felt cold, as my entire mind screamed at me with different thoughts of failure.
Before I could stop myself, I swung my hand back and threw my phone at the wall. It smashed into pieces to the floor with a crack, followed by the sound of my much louder sobs, as I hugged my hands around my body, while hoping and praying to whatever force out there that this shitstorm would end soon.
Sitting in the passenger seat of Lucien’s car, I read through my papers again, practicing for the debate silently. The weight of the school’s victory rested on my shoulders, as well as what would happen to me if we lost.
I was scared Lucien would look at me differently. That the school would slaughter me into bits and pieces for any mistake I made. My hands trembled slightly at the thought, as the same chill ran up my spine again. I shivered inwardly and clutched the papers with more force than needed, until they creased.
“Sloane,” Lucien called, and rested his hand on my trembling one. His much bigger hand felt warm against my cold, trembling one. I took deep breaths and stared up at him with a fake smile.
The moment he saw it, his eyes narrowed, and his hold tightened on mine. “Don’t smile, not like that.”
“What do you mean?” I frowned.
“That was a fake smile, Sloane. Something’s bothering you.” He said, with the same narrowed eyes. “Tell me, what is it?”
I pulled my lips into another forced smile, hoping he would let it go, and said, “Nothing.” My voice came out high-pitched and squeaky. I almost winced out loud at how fake I sounded.
“Sloane.” He groaned as his jaw tightened.
“Lucien..please, just leave it,” I whispered, staring at my papers instead.
He nodded, his hand clenched against the steering wheel. “We’re not moving till you talk.”
“Lucien, we have only an hour till the debate starts. If I’m out here and not in school on time, it will look bad.” I panicked, but he didn’t budge.
“That’s why you should talk quickly so we can get there in time.” He said, still not budging.
I groaned, slamming the papers on my lap, before pouring my heart out to him. He sat still and listened, not once interrupting me till I was done. I stared at him with my chest heaving due to my heavy breathing, as my eyes prickled with something.
Before I knew it, a sob broke from my lips, as I buried my face in my hands.
“Sloane, you’re fucking brilliant. I know that, you know that, the entire fucking school knows that, and not the nation will know that. So this thing with you is wrong, because once again, you’re gonna prove the entire school wrong for each time they’ve ever thought you different. And you know what?”
He said, lifting my chin so we could make eye contact.
He wipes my tears with a tissue and smiles brightly at me, before kissing my cheeks tenderly. “I’ll be right there, cheering you on.”