380Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6dWWMkxmBx
Do I think this is genuinely horrific and mad? Yes. Still, am I grateful for them? Indescribably so. It doesn't matter whether I'm completely terrified of the plan or not, this is the only chance I have of being able to survive. I do feel bad they decided to help me. I probably wouldn't have helped any of them.
While Hugo is explaining to the others the plan, all I can think about is what could go wrong.
"Athena, are you listening?" I briefly shake my head to snap back into reality and nod. "Anyway, the safe word is 'English project'. If you feel unsafe about someone or something just say 'English project.'" The complaints start rolling in.
First, Brianna. "This plan is dumb. We won't be able to get out of here without parental permission, a legal guardian, or a valid excuse! And why are we leaving right when the kitchen staff's waking up?" Hugo starts to explain himself, but Brianna continues. "And English project? We don't look like the type of people to be worried about an English project. Except you, maybe. We’re gonna screw this up. We’ll be fugitives, Hugo."
Hugo starts up again, "I know you all probably have very valid reasons as to why this is indefinite, but does anybody have any other ideas?" Everyone drops silent. I can tell they've been talking about this without me. Does anybody have any other ideas? The other idea is leaving me to die, and I wouldn’t even blame them. Be a little sour, for sure, but it’s not like many people are willing to risk their lives for a stranger. Most people won’t even go out of their way for a stranger.
A very long while after the comment, maybe a solid five minutes of throat clearing and attempted subject changes, Donna finally cuts the tension. "I think they're serving lunch now. We should eat up, get as much energy as we can out of these last two meals."
The next few hours are boring, to say the least. Just showering, eating, packing, indecisiveness, and asking Hugo the same questions over and over again. Finally, with everyone confident with their bags, that sets us up for dinner. We unanimously agree it would be best for all of us to get a full meal, so I use Donna's hoodie while waiting in line.
Sliding my tray along, an administrator goes up to me while Donna is waiting at the table. A strict female voice asserts, "Donna, remove your hood. It violates our safety policy. I won’t repeat myself again." Panicked looks from the people in line around me yet no one giving me a hint of what to do.
"Now," she demands.
Then, Brianna seems to either come up with an incredible idea or have the perfect set up to a dream-come-true for her.
She throws her hand up in the air and smacks my face into my bowlful of mashed potatoes. The potatoes feel like vomit against my skin, warm, mushy, and liquid-y. I feel like I can't breathe, and I really can't see. The potatoes still burning in my eyes, I realize I need to think fast. I squint to see Jedrek stepping behind Donna and walking her out as both of them leave their unfinished plates, Donna's on the table, and Jedrek's still on the metal ridges of the dinner line. Conner and Hugo are quick to follow.
The woman looks angry. "Brianna!" she barks. "Go help your sister clean herself up." I run out, Brianna and Emma running alongside me to prevent me from bumping into walls.
Squished back together in the tight headquarters that are Brianna's and Donna's room, we start hollering and whooping. Emma shushes us. Conner grabs me a towel to wipe the mashed potato from my eyes. The towel doesn't absorb it, though, making it slippery and uncomfortable. It just smears it around. At least I can see now.
"Thanks," I say, my voice directed towards Conner. "Brianna, that was brilliant! How did you come up with that?" I exclaim.
"Well, I-" she begins, only to be interrupted by Donna.
"Don't bother, Bree. You’ve been waiting a long time to do that." The room bursts with laughter and I finally feel like a part of the group.
When it starts to die down, the boys all decide to head downstairs while the girls and Conner help to get the bits and pieces out of my hair and clothes. The parts that splattered on my shirt have dried, feeling unusual, like a really bulky necklace would.
"Well, looks like it's gonna stain," mutters Conner. “Guess you’ll have to wear that old outfit after all,” he laughs.
Donna hands me a black, cotton shirt with a picture of a ballerina on it. I get to wash my hair and face in the sink then change out of it, already feeling much cleaner. “Thanks,” I tell her. She smiles. This time, she really seems to be smiling.
A knock on the door. Expecting it to be one of the guys, I call out, "Come in!"
Instead, the same supervisor that told me to take off Donna's hood stands at the door. I freeze.
"I'm sure you've met our outside friend," Brianna jumps from the bed, quick to the rescue. Conner scans the room and walks out, muttering something to the supervisor.
"She needs to check-in anyway. You girls are in big trouble." Feeling hopeless enough, we all relax and stare straight at her. She makes eye contact with me. "You're the wanted girl! Your face is all over the newspaper!" She pulls out a sample from her tacky, hot pink, polyester fanny pack.
While she's busy confronting me, I notice Donna writing something, and everyone else being led up to their room by Conner, shocked to see the supervisor staring straight at me. I tune out everything the woman is saying to see Donna grabbing her bag, my bag, and the notes scrunched in her hand. She leaves behind all our suitcases, walking across the room to Brianna and Emma.
"We have to work on the English project, remember? Get your bookbag." She enhances the words English project so much that I can only imagine it has raised the boys' attention in the hallway.
"Wait, your reckless behavior has been unacceptable-" the woman starts, her voice gradually turning louder as she becomes more and more flustered that they're not paying attention.
"Ma'am, I'm really sorry; it's just that she's our tutor, and we were a bit embarrassed to be struggling with languages. The English project is due really soon, though, so if you don't mind, she could check herself in while we go finish it up? She's already helped a lot," Brianna blinks, a perfect angel. She doesn't wait for an answer.
When Brianna and Emma are getting their "bookbags", Donna sits next to me and drops a note near my thigh. "Excuse me," she casually says to the supervisor with a lowered head while they pass.
She hands the other note to the boys and heads downstairs. I wait until the lady is busy reading the fine print in the news and unfold the ruffled up paper as discreetly as possible. In horrible handwriting, it reads: leaving everything behind. you were caught. when the guys seem like they’ve had enough time to head downstairs, MAKE A RUN FOR IT.
I bite my lip. I can't run, I think to myself.
ns 15.158.61.12da2
