Page 39 of Monster Made
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I breathe out in relief at the sound of the bell. This time, it’s not because I’ve been deathly bored, as is usually the case. This time, it’s because spending three hours with Quill’s arm wrappedaround me, while the other students stare, is pretty torturous. I’m not used to being the center of attention, and I’m not sure I like it. Plus, after initially sticking his hand in my pants, he spent much of the rest of the class with it resting firmly under my shirt, on my stomach. Which was both very arousing and… very uncomfortable. It was as though he wanted to ensure I didn’t forget, not even for a moment, that I belonged to him.
And I certainly didn’t.
I’ve never looked forward so much to lunch. We may not have more than forty-five minutes or so, but that’s enough time to find an empty classroom and... do stuff. After three hours of the most torturous foreplay known to man, I’m definitely ready for that.
So I’ve never been more disappointed when Quill plants a big, loud kiss on my lips, then says, “I’ll be back later.”
“Huh? Where are you going?”
“I have something to deal with,” he murmurs, before giving me another kiss. “In the meantime, behave, cricket.”
“Oh… okay.”
I do my best to swallow my disappointment as he walks down the hallway. I hate myself for getting so upset. It’s not like he’s going to be spending every second of every day glued to my hip from now on, is he?
Moments later, I perk up when he turns around and comes back again. But it’s only to ask, “What’s in your lunchbag today?”
“What?”
“Your lunch. What did you bring for lunch?”
“I didn’t bring any. You didn’t leave me much time this morning,” I add pointedly.
He smirks. “So what are you going to eat?”
“Oh, I guess I’ll go buy something,” I shrug, even though I already know I don’t have enough money on me to get anything from the cafeteria. But I’m not about to remind Quill that I’mpoor.
He studies me for a moment, then pulls out his wallet from his pocket and hands me a fifty.
“Quill, I’m not going to take that,” I protest. “I can pay for myself. I’m not even that hungry, anyway.”
My stomach growls loudly just then, and Quill’s smirk deepens as I grow splotchy red.
“Uh huh. Sure. Don’t just buy dessert, cricket,” he tells me, as I wonder again how he knows so much about me. “A full, healthy lunch, okay?”
Before I can protest again, he kisses me a third time, then heads back out of the school.
I know I should probably not accept the money. Or at least, not use it. But I’m starving, and this means I don’t have to hurry home, choke down a few bites of whatever I can scrounge up, before rushing back. Plus, it’s enough money that I have options other than going to the cafeteria and dealing with the stares of every kid eating there. Because I’m pretty sure that by now, the entire school knows something is going on between Quill and me.
So, huffing out a breath of relief, I leave the building, planning to sit down at the cafe that’s just a few streets away.
I’m so lost in thoughts of Quill as I enter the place that I don’t notice his friends Dane and Liam until the latter shoves into me so hard that I yelp.
“Hey! What the hell?” I snap.
He glares at me, but Dane pushes him out of the cafe before he has time to add insults to the injury.
And it definitely is an injury. I rub my sore shoulder as I head to the counter and order… well, a slice of chocolate cake. It’s a pretty expensive one too, and it would make me feel weird to use any more of the fifty-dollar bill. So I pocket the rest, deciding I’ll just pretend I spent the money on a sandwich instead and givethe change back to Quill.
I sit down with my cake at a small table. I’m about to grab my current book from my bag—The Long Goodbye—when I notice a familiar-looking face at the next table. I’ve never exchanged a word with him, which I guess isn’t unusual with how infrequently people speak to me at Astley High. But he would definitely be the last guy Iwouldspeak to, given his reputation as a drug dealer. I can’t even handle the idea of swearing; taking drugs is just about the last thing I would ever do.
But Finn Austen was there when I went to Devil Tower with Cass. He knows what kind of experiment they’re running at Devil Tower, and while I hadn’t thought much about it before, Quill’s very intense reaction earlier has reignited all my curiosity.
So, pushing aside my nerves, I grab my plate and walk resolutely to the corner table which he’s occupying, looking decidedly… grey.
I’m very aware of all the Astley High kids staring at me as I do so. I’ll take Astley Cafe over the cafeteria anyday, but it’s still frequented almost exclusively by high school students. At least the food is better, though.
