Deeper We Fall by Chelsea M. Cameron Page B

starting my countdown. “Two.”
    When I got to four, he handed me the coffee cup and walked away.
    “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yelled out behind him. A girl who was going to the bathroom turned and gave me a nasty look.
    “I wasn’t talking to you, sorry,” I called. She looked at me like I was crazy and went into the bathroom.
    He stood with his back to me ten feet down the hall. I noticed that there was a bunch of white tape on his left hand, as if he’d hurt it.
    “What do you want from me? Haven’t you taken enough already?” He turned around slowly, and his face fractured for a second. I was so used to him being so expressionless, it startled me.
    “I can’t take anything you don’t give me. Stop giving me power over your life,” he said before turning and walking toward the stairs before I could say anything else.
    I stared after him, absolutely perplexed. What was it with this guy? The girl I yelled at came out of the bathroom and scurried back to her room, as if she was worried I was going to run and attack her. Great, now I was going to be the Crazy Girl Who Lived Down the Hall.
    The coffee cup was just a paper one, from the cafeteria. There was writing in a tight messy script winding around it. A packet of green tea was tucked inside.
    ‘ You were born with wings.
    You are not meant for crawling, so don't.
    You have wings.
    Learn to use them and fly.’
    You’re not the only one with regrets.
    -Zan
    The first part was clearly a quote, but not one I recognized. The second part made me want to chase him down and smash the cup in his face. What did he regret? Did he regret breaking Lexie? I hadn’t seen any evidence of it. Never an apology, never a tear of remorse. Nothing. Just a blank face. Except for his eyes. Those told their own story, but it wasn’t in a language that I knew how to read.
    What he could do was leave me the fuck alone. Disappear from my life so I didn’t have to see his face and be reminded. Every. Single. Day.
    I turned the cup in my hands, reading the quote again. Too bad he hadn’t let me get to five. I was debating on shoving my thumb in his eye, which would require me to jump, or just going for something even more sensitive. After making sure he was gone, I went to the bathroom. I tossed the cup in the trash, but put the tea in my pocket.

 
     
    Chapter Eleven
     
     
    Zan
     
    I felt like a fucking moron when she opened the door. I’d be trying to be really quiet when I saw the light on in her room and heard someone moving around. My plan had been to leave the cup and head for the stairs, but it seemed someone else had another plan.
    Her face melted into the pain and rage I’d seen that morning. Once again, words failed me. Hers didn’t.
    When she talked about beating the shit out me, I had to fight a smile. I had no doubt she could bring me to my knees. She could do that with her blue eyes alone.
    I caught myself staring at her eyes, and I had to snap myself out of it. She’d started counting, and I figured I should probably go while the getting was good, so I handed her the cup and walked away.
    She called after me, and I finally found my voice and said the first thing that came to my mind.
    You’re not the only one with regrets .
    My hand was fast becoming a regret. At least the swelling had stopped, and the pain had gone from sharp to a dull ache, but my knuckles were painted purple and blue.
    Miss Carole had left me a message while I was up with Charlotte. Worried about me, no doubt. I called her back to ease her mind.
    “Hey, Alex. I just got home so I wanted to check on you. Did you make it through the rest of the day?”
    “I fucked up my hand punching a sign.”
    She sighed. “And what did that sign ever do to you?”
    “Nothing. I just had a moment of weakness.”
    “Alex, I’ve told you to find an outlet. What about your camera?”
    “I haven’t unpacked it yet. I’m sorry.”
    “I’m not the one with the messed-up hand.”
    “No,