School of Secrets (The Perkins School for Self Improvement #1)

Chapter 15

By the next morning, I've made my decision through an agonizing process of deliberation.

"What do you mean?" Derek demands, giving me an unreadable look while pulling on his jacket. It's eight-thirty, and despite not having classes breakfast was held at the normal weekday time. Neither of us felt much like going today, though. The service is at eleven, so everyone who's riding in the school car or with a faculty member has to be waiting in the lot by a quarter till nine.

"I decided not to go." I say simply, hoping he'll let it go before I have to make up excuses for myself.

Derek doesn't look at me for a long moment, then his eyes snap to me.

"What the hell man?" he wonders, his expression going from solemn to furious in a matter of seconds, "you have to go!"

"I-" I stare back at him, still sitting on my bed where I've been for the past fifteen minutes, "Derek, I can't. It-It's just ... I can't."

His anger disappears, replaced with a helpless expression that makes me feel guilty for about the millionth time.

"What about me, Tim?" Derek asks, his head bowed, "You can't do this, but what about me? I did this to her! If anyone should be avoiding this, it's me. I need you to come with me. You're my roommate, we're friends. I thought you had my back Tim."

"Derek-"

"What do I have to say?" he demands, "You, Creighton. Both of you think I'm a monster, don't you? What am I supposed to do? I can't fix this, all right? I can't change it! You decided not to go because of me, didn't you, because you couldn't stand to be at the service with the person who-"

"Derek!" I shout, surprised momentarily by the volume of my voice.

He looks down, messing with the zipper on his jacket.

"Derek," I repeat more reasonably, "have I ever said that to you?"

What?" he doesn't meet my gaze, still playing with the zipper.

"Have I ever called you a monster?"

"You don't have to," he says, "I know you're thinking it."

"But that's just it," I tell him, my tone a lot more convincing than I expected it to be, "I don't think that. You do. Since you've been going around thinking of yourself as a monster, you're expecting all of us to feel the same way. I don't think of you that way at all. You were manipulated, and because of that you did something awful. You wouldn't have done it if you'd been in your right mind. You were controlled. You didn't have a choice what you did, Derek. You have to forgive yourself before you let anyone else forgive you."

Derek stuffs his keycard into his jacket pocket, exhaling a long sigh.

"I don't know," he mutters, shoving on his shoes, "I just don't know."

He turns, walking out of our suite and closing the door a bit too harshly behind him.

~*~

Rain pours down as I walk from my dormitory to lunch, the hood of my coat pulled up over my head and both hands shoved into my pockets.

"I hate rain." I hiss under my breath, feeling it soaking through my sneakers.

Why didn't I let Mom buy me a pair of rain boots? What on earth was I thinking?

It's hamburger day in the cafeteria. The room is as empty as the school lot, with a handful of kids standing in line and about twenty others scattered at tables. I know a bunch of the guys who stayed here have chosen to remain in their rooms, and I'm guessing the same is true for several residents of the girls' dorm.