90

Ms. Pat sends one of the girls, Bailey to inform me that dinner is served. My first thought is to have them send it down to my room, but that would seem like I was hiding. And what has hiding ever give me?

It certainly changed nothing the hours I spent here all afternoon. I tried to watch a few episodes of supernatural when I academics didn’t prove to be strong distractions from my looping thoughts.

Discards them without a second thought.

But even that fell short. So, I climbed in bed, popped in my earbuds and hit Halsey’s playlist on repeat while I tried to nap.

Now, I mumbled “Be right there, thanks” to the lady as I slipped out of bed. I splashed some water on my face and tamed my hair into a bun at the top my head and left my room.

“Why are you pouting?”

It was the third question he’s asked me since I joined him five minutes ago and I wasn’t pouting.

My fingers tightened around my fork and I relaxed them immediately and kept eating.

“All this because I fired a maid?”

I f