Bookmarks & Burnouts

Chapter4

Silas

I see the bruise the second she walks into the building.

It’s under her left eye, dark enough that the cheap makeup she slapped over it doesn’t do s**t. She’s got the hoodie strings pulled tight and her head down like usual, but I still catch it. Something hot and ugly kicks hard in my chest.

Somebody put their hands on her.

I don’t realize I’ve stopped walking until Red bumps into my shoulder.

“What?” she says.

I tip my chin toward Quinn’s retreating back. Red follows my gaze, eyes narrowing when she clocks the mark.

“f**k,” she mutters.

“Yeah.”

We don’t say anything else about it. We don’t have to.

I spend the morning watching her without meaning to. She moves like she’s trying to fold herself out of existence. Every time I lose sight of her in the hallway I feel my jaw tighten for no good reason.

By lunch I’m in a s**t mood.

We end up at our usual table near the back of the cafeteria. I drop into the seat, unwrap a sandwich I don’t actually want, and stare at it like it offended me. Red sits across from me, spinning an unopened water bottle between her hands. Joker sprawls sideways on the bench, already scanning the room.

“You’re quiet,” Red says after a minute.

“I’m always quiet.”

“Quieter than usual.” She studies me. “You’re still thinking about the bruise.”

I don’t deny it.

Joker makes a low interested noise. “What bruise?”

“Drop it,” I tell him.

He holds up both hands, but his attention is already sliding past me. A senior girl from the softball team walks by and he flashes her the grin that usually gets him whatever he wants. She blushes and keeps walking. Joker watches her go, clearly filing her away for later.

“I’m bored,” Red announces, tipping her head back to stare at the ceiling. “This day is taking a hundred years.”

“You’re always bored,” Joker says without looking at her. He’s already clocked another girl two tables over. “Hey, what about her? The one with the—”

“If you finish that sentence I’m going to stab you with this fork,” Red cuts in.

Joker laughs, completely unbothered. “You’re just mad because you have the personality of a pissed-off cat and I actually get laid.”

“I get laid whenever I want,” she shoots back. “I just don’t feel the need to collect people like trading cards.”

I tune most of it out. My eyes keep drifting toward the cafeteria doors even though I know Quinn never eats in here. She’s probably in the library again with her apple and her notes, trying to take up as little space as possible. The bruise under her eye keeps flashing through my head.

Somebody hurt her.

And she walked into school like it was normal.

“Earth to Havoc,” Joker says, waving a hand in front of my face. “You in there?”

“What.”

“I asked if you’re coming to the party this weekend at the old mill. Half the senior class is gonna be there. Easy pickings.” He winks.

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

Red kicks him under the table. “Leave him alone. He’s clearly having a dramatic internal crisis about the quiet girl.”

I give her a flat look. “I’m not.”

“Sure.”

The bell rings before the conversation can get any more annoying. We stand up and join the slow flood of students heading to fifth period. My mood has not improved.

Between fifth and sixth I catch a flash of blonde hair and Sloane’s little pack heading toward the bathrooms right after Quinn disappears inside. I don’t think. I just look at Red.

“Go.”

She doesn’t ask questions. She’s already moving.

I wait in the hallway, back against the lockers, arms crossed so I don’t put my fist through something. A couple minutes later Sloane, Brie, and Kota come out looking pissed. Red follows a few seconds after, expression flat. She gives me a short nod. Message delivered.

Quinn comes out last. She doesn’t look at anyone. Just slips into the crowd and vanishes.

I tell myself I only did it because I hate Sloane’s whole act. It’s not about the quiet girl with the bruise and the too-big hoodie.

I almost believe it.

Last period. Harlan’s class.

I take my seat in the back. Red drops beside me. Joker sprawls on her other side. Quinn comes in and sits in her usual spot like she’s hoping the chair will swallow her. The bruise is still visible if you know where to look. I keep my eyes on the front of the room so I don’t do something stupid.

Harlan walks in with a clipboard.

“All right. Project time. This is a major grade — written report and an oral presentation with visual aids. You’ll be analyzing a specific event in U.S. history: what happened, why it happened, and what could have changed the outcome. Partners and topics are non-negotiable. I don’t want to hear complaints.”

He starts reading pairs.

I barely listen until I hear her name.

“Quinn Keller and Silas Crowe. Topic: the Salem Witch Trials.”

The classroom goes a little too quiet for a second. Then Sloane laughs under her breath. Joker lets out a low whistle beside me.

You’ve got to be f*****g kidding me.

I stare at the back of Quinn’s head. She’s frozen, shoulders tight, fingers locked together on the desk like she’s holding herself in place. She doesn’t turn around.

Harlan keeps reading like he didn’t just drop a grenade in my lap. More names. More topics. I don’t hear any of them.

When he finally finishes he starts passing out handouts. The paper reaches me and I glance down at it without really seeing the words. Written report. Oral presentation. Visual aids. Salem Witch Trials.

I need this grade. I need it bad enough that I can’t just refuse or half-ass it. Which means I’m stuck with the girl who flinches if someone breathes too close to her and looks at me like I’m the worst thing that could happen to her.

Fucking perfect.

The bell rings. Quinn is out of her seat and through the door before most people have even closed their notebooks. Fast. Quiet. Gone.

I stay seated a few seconds longer, jaw locked so tight it aches.

Red glances over. “You good?”

“No.”

Joker grins, completely unhelpful. “This is gonna be fun.”

I stand up hard enough to scrape the chair legs against the floor.

“Shut up.”

I walk out before either of them can say anything else.

I push through the library doors and nearly walk straight into Red.

Joker is right behind her, both of them clearly having followed me. Red’s arms are crossed. Joker already looks far too entertained.

“What the hell was that?” Red asks.

“What was what?”

She gives me a look that could strip paint. “Don’t play dumb. You chased the quiet girl into the library, stood over her like a creep, and then walked out looking like somebody hit you in the face with a brick. What was that all about?”

“I needed her number for the project,” I say. “That’s it.”

Red’s eyes narrow. “Uh-huh. Because from where I was standing it looked like you were ready to devour her.”

Joker’s face lights up with pure delight. “Damn. Didn’t know library mouse was on the menu. You gonna eat her out behind the stacks or take her home first?”

I keep walking.

They fall into step on either side of me like they always do. I don’t slow down. The parking lot is half-empty by now. My bike sits exactly where I left it, black and solid and uncomplicated.

“I’m serious,” Red says, quieter now. “You good?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re a s**t liar.”

I swing a leg over the bike and shove the key in. The engine turns over with a low, familiar growl that settles something in my chest. Joker is still grinning like an i***t. Red just watches me, waiting for something I’m not going to give her.

I don’t answer either of them.

I just kick the stand up, twist the throttle, and get the hell out of there before the memory of Quinn Keller’s mouth can do any more damage.