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Post by Megan on Jul 24, 2014 18:18:52 GMT -5
Megan slid down to the floor, hugging her knees.
She had been on the very brink of blurting a long list of furious questions at her- How many times did someone try to rape you, Nina? Can you have children, Nina? I bet you can. I bet you've never been put alone in a hallway alone off and on for years before you were twelve years old. Have you, Nina?- but she couldn't get the words out.
That was when she realized the tops of her arms were burning. She laughed hollowly and scooted away from the wall.
Well, there was still one question she could ask.
"…did you bring a gun?"
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Post by Nina Fortner on Jul 24, 2014 18:20:31 GMT -5
"To Greece, or to New York?"
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Post by Megan on Jul 24, 2014 18:20:55 GMT -5
"Here."
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Post by Nina Fortner on Jul 24, 2014 18:21:48 GMT -5
"No."
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Post by Megan on Jul 24, 2014 18:22:21 GMT -5
"Damn."
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Post by Nina Fortner on Jul 24, 2014 18:30:28 GMT -5
Nina took a step away from the wall, and then another, trying to regulate her breathing.
She looked at Megan, dull-expressioned, burning, huddled on the floor, and completely miserable. She knew she was right. The words she'd said were still ringing in her ears, as though she had never really stopped saying them. It was no more than Nina deserved, but saying it had only hurt Megan more. She should help her up. Adrian would, wouldn't he? Apologize and do her best, even if Megan threw it back in her face. It was her right to do so. There was nothing wrong with how she felt, and Nina had provoked it, airing her problems as though they were national news or of extreme import. What a stupid thing to complain about. She thought of the tests she and Curt had run in the Baxter Building, of Adrian's charity performances, and then compared it all to her telling Megan about it.
She took a breath, hands clutched contritely. But fear flooded her sense of responsibility and she fled from the hallway, hurrying down the stairs and away from the other girl as fast as she could. On the bottom floor she clutched the railing, momentum pushing her over, so that she gripped it tightly and stared down at the floor. She could tell she had broken out into a light sweat, and then she gasped, and she realized she had begun crying.
She hurried away again, opening a window and dropping to her knees to look outside at the sky and breath in the fresh air. It didn't calm her, though; she folded her arms on the windowsill and lowered her forehead to them, and cried as quietly as she could, shaking heavily.
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