Chapter 16 #2
Inside, the school seems to be bustling with more activity than usual for this early in the day. A couple cheerleaders brush past me, disappearing into one of the classrooms. They’re carrying a black banner, and I catch the words Tunnel of Horror scrolled across it in big white, goopy lettering.
Which reminds me—Halloween is in less than two weeks. Same day as this month’s full moon according to my astrology app.
With the coming Hunter’s moon, prepare for a tide of revelations in its wake.
The end of a cycle is upon you, and you’ll be thrust into a new one whether or not you’re ready.
Now is not the time for impulsive spending, or new relationships.
It is a time to gather and stock your resources as you prepare for the winter ahead.
I scowled when I read that this morning.
What do the stars know? Now is the perfect time for a new relationship. It means couple costumes on Halloween. Duh.
Go home, Mercury or whatever. You’re drunk.
I twirl the lollipop in my mouth, bopping my head to the music as Pat wails about being young, and weathering the battlefield that is love.
She’s not wrong. It's rough out here for us hopeless romantics, especially these days, where it's apparently much cooler to be stoic and aloof.
I mean, just look at my boyfriend.
(Does he know he’s my boyfriend yet? No. But obviously that’s where we’re headed, so might as well just skip the bullshit.)
With black eyes colder than ice, and muscles about as rigid as the flat line of his mouth, Vale DuPont is nothing if not the anti-thesis of romance.
But oh, how he makes my little heart melt.
Riviera, I correct myself. It’s Riviera now. Rivierarivierarivi—
Oh! Speak of the sexy devil…
There he is.
Cue the romantic swell of music, the glittering lights, and the slow, panoramic swing of the camera gently zooming in on him—it’s go time.
Smack dab center in my line of sight, lit up under the sterile fluorescents like the God that he is, Vale stands with his back to me, facing a flyer-crowded cork board, hands shoved in his pockets.
I bite my lip as my steps slow, my gaze scoring ravenously down his body. Everything else around me disappears. I only have eyes for him.
He sure does make these dreadfully dull uniforms look good, his navy blazer stretched across his broad back, and his pressed chinos molding to his ass like a second skin.
Yum.
Rolling the Blow Pop around in my mouth, I lower my bulky headphones, so that the music playing is muffled against my neck. Then, with a tug on the straps of my backpack, squeezing them in my fists, I surge forward with all the confidence in the world.
I bypass my homeroom, my locker, and my buddy Darwin.
Twenty steps.
Fifteen.
Ten.
Several bodies suddenly cut across my path, and I rear back, stumbling on my heels. Scowling, I shoot them a glare, following them with my gaze until they’re fully out of sight, and my path is clear once more.
Bingo.
My body’s primed like an arrow drawn back, and I’m just about to burst through the empty space separating us, when Vale turns.
But not toward me.
“Oh, no he didn’t,” I mutter under my breath.
Annndddd signal the perfectly timed record scratch.
He appears out of nowhere—literally, because as far as I’m concerned Seth fucking Harris no longer actually exists. He can’t. Not anymore. Not after I dealt with his home-wrecking ass Saturday night.
But lo and behold, there he is, sauntering up to my boyfriend.
I freeze in place, mindless of my peers shoving and shoulder-checking past me.
“What. The. Fuck,” I seethe.
Vale’s profile is to me, and he’s got his head bowed. He doesn’t seem to have noticed me standing here, a handful of steps away, no doubt with steam shooting out of my ears.
He’s saying something, but it’s too quiet for me to hear, and his lips are moving too fast, too subtly for me to even stand a chance of trying to read them.
And standing there, facing him like the arrogant, oblivious twat that he is, Seth hunches his shoulders, and jacks a thumb behind him. He murmurs something too.
My eyes bulge.
He wouldn’t…
But he does.
Vale nods, and waves a hand, gesturing for Seth to take the lead. And then they’re gone, heading down the South hall, disappearing around the corner.
Whipping around, I stomp back the way I came, back toward my locker.
Darwin is still standing there, facing his open locker as he gathers his books for homeroom. The warning bell’s going to ring soon.
I yank out my lollipop. “Can you believe this shit?” I shrug off my backpack, letting it fall to the ground with a loud thunk. “The nerve…”
Shoving the candy back in my mouth, I pin it between my teeth as I angrily twist the dial on my locker, putting in the combination until the handle gives. Throwing it open, I turn off my Walkman, tossing it along with my headphones on the top shelf, before shoving my bag inside.
After I grab what I’ll need for second period—it’s Monday, so that means therapy instead of history—I slam my locker shut and tuck my books under my armpit.
Tugging the sucker out of my mouth, I huff, and cut Darwin a look, pointing the candy at him.
“I shall cut out his eyeballs and wear them as earrings.”
Turning on my heel, I go to storm past, the pocketknife I stole from Walt’s den after I lost mine at the party in my sock a solid, delicious reminder that I have the upper hand. Silly, stupid Seth never stood a chance.
Should’ve just ended him the other night. That’s what I get for being nice.
I get about two steps when I halt in place and twist my head over the shoulder.
“Darwin,” I bark.
He sighs and cuts me a dry look over his wire-rimmed glasses. “What?”
I bug my eyes at him. “You’re supposed to grab me and stop me. That’s what friends do. Friends don’t let friends cut out the eyeballs of their boyfriend’s crazy exes who can’t take a fucking hint. Even if said crazy ex deserves it.” I wave the hand holding the lollipop. “But I digress!”
Darwin scowls and pushes his glasses up his nose. “We’re not friends.”
He’s cute, in that shy, nerdy kind of way.
In another life, where Vale didn’t exist, and I wasn’t a borderline-sociopath with a knife kink and a penchant for theatrics, I could totally see Darwin and I ending up together.
We’ve got that whole locker-sharing, reluctant friends, forced proximity cutesy power duo thing going on.
It’d be a somewhat boring, but sweet story. And sure, we’d probably have to take turns topping—which I’m not totally against trying, for the record, though I was hoping my first time would be with a certain two-timing football player—and it would be…healthy…I guess.
I frown and drop my gaze to the laminate flooring.
A throat clears softly, followed by the gentle click of a locker closing. Loafers shuffle into my line of sight and I blink, look up, and smile sweetly.
Darwin shakes his head. “And my name is Devin.”
The bell rings just as he pushes past me. Spinning on my heel, I call out after him, “I totally knew that!”
Hmm, I don’t think he heard me.
I look around me, taking in the students dispersing the hall, their faces blurring into streaks. A weird buzzing fills my head, rattling my teeth and making my eyes itch.
I rub them. Blink a couple times. When I open them, I find myself alone.
The buzzing—no, the ringing cuts out. The silence that follows, heavy. Pointed. Suffocating.
Fuck.
That was the bell. I’m late.
On autopilot, I quickly make my way to the guidance office. Willing back that familiar, sticky wrongness creeping over me once more, slowly consuming me, rotting my good mood in record time, and leaving nothing but black ichor to sluice through my veins.
The last thing I need right now is the good doctor to think I’m having an episode.
Or at least, on the verge of.
I mean, so what if Vale and that wretched creature are still together?
So what if I deluded myself into thinking what happened at the party meant he picked me? That what we did meant something. That my Vale is still in there somewhere, just older and a little scarier. But, like, in a sexy way.
So what if I lost my knife, and Walter makes me feel weird, and there’s certain songs I can’t listen to, apparently, not without losing my shit?
Now is not the time to give up. Hope is not lost. Vale’s probably just testing me.
Yeah, yeah, that’s gotta be it.
Probably figures I’m not serious. I’m not always good at showing when I am.
I just have to remind him what he means to me, remind him he’s mine…
No…that I’m his.
I don’t know what it is about Vale…I never did. Not back when we were kids. Not when he was just a memory, one I’d cling to like a life preserver when not even a straitjacket or drugs could keep my mind from floating into forbidden territory.
Not now, when he acts like he wants nothing to do with me. When he plays whack-a-mole with my heart. When he looks at me like he can’t decide if he wants to eat me or kill me.
But he…he settles something inside me. He soothes that sticky black wrongness somehow. That wrongness that would have me falling, sinking, forever lost.
He doesn’t eradicate it, no. If anything, he speaks to it. Tames it.
It’s as if some part of me knows I’m safe enough to let go with him…
That I was born to be at Vale’s mercy.
Made to be his.