She smiled, as if knowing I was just being humble.
"Listen," she said, and I braced myself for what was coming next. "I know you probably don't want to know about this, but I think it's important that you do."
I cocked an eyebrow. What did she mean?
"Everyone's been saying Hans will be back tomorrow."
She looked at me, and the expression of surprise that flickered across my face made her smile almost smugly. "I figured you didn't know. I mean, you look too calm for someone who knew."
"Where'd you hear that?" I asked cautiously. I wasn't sure I trusted her sources, even though she was without a doubt the most relentless rumor-seeker I knew.
"Jeremy told me. They keep in touch." The way she said Jeremy’s name made me realize she was smug about being told about it first hand, and by him, too.
"Since when do you hang out with Jeremy?" I asked, unable to keep the curiosity out of my voice.
"Since the party. We don't just hang out if you know what I mean." I watched as she flipped her hair back, and I realized I hadn't spoken to her in ages. Had she been hanging out with the popular gang all this while? Good for her, since it was what she had been aiming for the entire time I knew her. I began to notice the little things I probably was too distracted to see before: the tear-drop necklace she wore, the beautiful earrings, that shiny new bag.
"Are you dating him?"
She shrugged, a graceful movement I wouldn't have seen her do before. "We're not labeling it anything just yet." Her eyes twinkled happily.
I turned back to my locker and began replacing the books in my bag with the ones I needed to bring home for revision.
"Well, thank you for the heads-up." I wasn't sure what else to say, or what to do with the information now that I had it. I mean, I lived with the guy, so it wasn't as if I could escape him, right?
Perhaps there was something in my tone, but Jules' eyes flashed, and she said snippily, "I just thought it was something you would want to know. I mean, I would, if the guy who almost raped me was gonna come back in the next twenty-four hours."
She turned around in a huff before I could call her back to explain, and I noticed her skirt was at least an inch shorter than it used to be before. Sigh.
Chapter 19
Cole
I wasn't sure when things had turned so upside down. When our nightmares and monsters had gotten the best of us. I had always known Hans had a twisted mind, but the extent to which it had revealed itself shocked me. He was supposed to be the more controlled one. If anyone were to snap, it would have been me. It had always been me. I was the one who got into fistfights, and Hans would have to come and break it up, calm me down and console or bribe the other guy, do whatever that worked. And with girls – he had always had it easy, we both did, so there was no challenge there.
But Hans was sick. I knew his twisted preferences, knew he liked the idea of an unwilling partner, but it never manifested. Not once. So for him to be barely drunk and forcing himself on Monica like that...whilst threatening Ella, making her watch, and maybe forcing himself on her, too, if she hadn’t managed to escape – it came as a shock to me. I disliked Monica, but the girl didn't deserve it. No one did.
I sighed, remembering how Monica had turned white when she saw me in the hallway recently, after classes were over. I had been there to reschedule my exams to a different week, something the principal Mr. Brennan had readily agreed to, probably seeing what a wreck I was. I hadn't been able to speak with her then, because she had turned and walked halfway across the hallway before I was able to. It made sense. I was the splitting image of Hans, and even though she usually recognized me, I was sure it didn't help to be her tormentor's identical twin.
I wondered about Hans. What was going through his mind? Did he have any regrets for what he had done? I had barely exchanged two words with him since he was shipped off to no-man's land, where he was probably simmering. I laughed harshly, ignoring the startled look I got from the freshman who smartly chose to scuttle away. Did my father think a lifetime's worth of damage was going to be undone by some counselor in a facility? If he truly believed that, then he was in for a big surprise. He should have known better, should have seen this coming from a mile away. And I blamed him, the adult in this whole messy situation. Tragic, my mom had said when I told her, as she looked down at her perfectly manicured nails. She had barely batted an eyelash when I came knocking in the wee hours of the morning on her apartment door the night of the party. She had taken one look at me, and had heard Hans' name on my lips before ushering me in, and giving me the guest bedroom Hans and I shared whenever we came to visit. I guess none of it had surprised her. She had built a good life away from us, had ended up being the smartest one in the family, getting away from us years before this meltdown. It was inevitable - but my dad had refused to see it. Had thought giving us food and shelter was going to keep us all safe - from ourselves, from each other - whilst he shut himself in his office, day after
