turning pale.
"Passion," I repeat the word with a quiet laugh. "That's what you're calling it?"
"I mean it, Avalon," she says as she turns the car around the side of a building that boasts tall windows and dark colored panes. Ms. Bairns pivots her head towards me and her eyes bore into mine, making me sit up straighter. “You were recruited and so, of course, we want you here, but make no mistake—if you make the same choices you made in your previous schools, there really will be nowhere else for you to go. Eastpoint is your last option and I’m glad you decided to accept it, but there are rules to be followed and violence on campus will not be tolerated. It’s the end of the line.”
End of the line, huh? I don't know why, but that sounds good to me. I like being on the end of a rope. Makes everything feel a little dangerous. My heartbeat picks up speed. Sweat collects beneath my arms and in the center of my palms. A dark craving blossoms in my chest. The stint against Brooke back at Plexton had curbed it somewhat, but ever since, I’d started feeling the need to cause a little chaos—perhaps the very same day Roger had let it be known that he wasn’t above fucking one of his client’s kids—it hadn’t disappeared.
My gaze falls away from Ms. Bairns. "Yeah," I say absently as I let my mind wander. "I get it. Not to worry. No one fucks with me, I won't fuck with them."
When she doesn't respond immediately to my words, I glance her way and frown. Her muscles haven't loosened at all. In fact, with the way her hands are still gripping the steering wheel for dear life, it makes me think that my words put her more on edge than anything else. I think about saying something else, but I've got nothing more to offer. Instead, I refocus on the building in front of us as the car slows to a stop.
Havers Dormitory.
Of all the other buildings on campus, the Havers Dormitory is the least pristine, the least aesthetically pleasing. In fact, it looks like an architectural reject. Or just really poorly maintained. The roof slopes so much that it makes the whole building appear as though it’s slanting into a new angle. The windows are dirty and the sidewalk in front of it—unlike what I’d seen the entire drive through the rest of campus—is riddled with cracks. The grass is overgrown around the face of the dorm and the plaque alongside the front doors is covered in so much grime that it's hardly readable.
Doesn't matter. It still looks better than the piece of shit trailer I'd grown up in. I follow Ms. Bairns in and wait somewhat impatiently as we go through the process of assigning me my room, key, and student identification. I half-listen as she explains the student allowance for food and other necessities, all of which can be purchased using my ID card.
By the time we finally climb up the steps to my floor—no fancy elevator for the program kids, I notice—I'm ready to jump out of my skin. I need to go for a run or something. I need a little bit of a release. My fingers tap out a rhythm against my thigh as I march behind the woman who's brought me here.
"Here we are," Ms. Bairns says as we stop in front of a plain white door with paint peeling in the top right hand corner. The dorm manager—i.e. the woman who'd likely been given the rundown on me and been told to keep an eye out—slides her gaze over her shoulder and scans my form. I arch a brow and tilt my head, staring right fucking back at her. Before I can say anything, however, a cell phone rings and Ms. Bairns jumps as she quickly retrieves the source of the noise from her purse and glances over the screen. "I'll have to leave you with Ms. Lowery, Avalon," Ms. Bairns announces. “I’ve got to take this.” She swipes to answer her phone but doesn’t put it to her ear immediately as she hurries through the rest of her explanation to me. “She'll get you introduced to your roommate. If you have any issues, I've written down the location of my office and my phone number on your papers."
I give her a nod and watch as she hurries back down the hall, her heels thumping sharply