phone, it’s outside of the perimeter North gave me and there’s no way I want to deal with that asshole today. Not after his dick brother just shamed me in front of half the fucking freshman class.
Fuck.
I can’t think about it without feeling that special sort of rage that means my ability wants to come out to play and that can’t fucking happen. I do let myself think about it though, for like a second. Just to burn off the rage a little.
So instead, I head back to my own dorm room to… sit and fucking mope, really. In the light of day, the room looks even more bleak. Bare walls, empty cupboards, and the shittiest bed known to man. For real, I’ve slept in homeless shelters with better mattresses, and the blankets are a scratchy nightmare.
I also only have about eight dollars to my name, so buying new shit isn’t in the budget.
I unpack my bags and go through what little clothing I have left. There’s a little makeup and three pairs of shoes. Not great, shoes are kind of my life and the Tactical Team left behind a pair of leather ankle boots that were the greatest thrift shop find of my life. I refuse to admit how much that loss hurts me.
There may be tears.
Then I spend a few hours on my phone researching jobs that fit into the perimeter North gave me, but none of the hours work with his stupid curfew. Looks like earning money is out and I’m stuck in this shitty room the way it is.
Fuck my life.
Even on the run, I managed to find little pieces of art and trinkets to cute up my spaces. I had a car too. I’ll have to talk to North about it because it’s registered in my name and I don’t need to be racking up tickets for abandoning it.
Fuck, if only I could get my car back.
The real problem here is the killer GPS chip. If I could get it out then I’ll be out of this place on the next bus… or, hell, I’ll hitchhike my way to the East coast. Or maybe Canada. I’d need a passport for that.
Fuck.
Eventually it gets dark outside and I get bored enough in my shitty little room to get ready for bed. The showers at the dorms are a special sort of hell thanks to all of the whispers and gossip, but it doesn’t take much brain function to realize that there are times of the day when this place is a ghost town and I use that to my advantage.
I’m drying off my hair in my room when my phone pings with a text.
Strange.
Only Sage has my number and she’s at work right now. She’s already given me a basic rundown of what her week looks like so we can find time to study together. I steel myself for whichever one of my Bonds is starting a whole new campaign of hate against me, because I’m sure North gave them all my number, but when I check it, I find a message from my last Bond, the one who’s been missing so far.
I slump down on the bed as I read his text once, twice, eight times.
Fuck.
I think we should meet here first. The name is Atlas Bassinger, and I live on the other side of the country. I’m finishing out the semester and then coming to you, my college wouldn’t let me transfer mid-unit, otherwise I’d be there now. Hope you can understand that.
Oh God, I think he’s asking me for forgiveness for not dropping everything and coming to me. Me! I stare at my phone for a another second before replying, trying to find the words to tell him I’m the worst fucking option for him.
Have you spoken to the other guys? I’m sure they have plenty to say about why you don’t need to drop everything to come to me.
His reply is much faster.
I don’t give a fuck about their opinions on my Bond. I spoke to them when my bloodwork came back and they told me you ran. I’m not a dumbass like the rest of them, you ran because you had to. I know it. I’ll be there as soon as I can and if that isn’t fast enough for you, I’ll come now and start the semester over again.
My stomach drops. I drop the towel I was drying my hair with to the ground and focus entirely on my phone.
You