Dakota
The duration of two days that I spent at Mr. Daniels’ home is both awkward and intense. You can’t really call his place a house because it’s a freaking mansion. I was told I could go into any part of the mansion except for the basement.
Not that I wanted to explore down there anyways, too many horror movies I’d watched over the years involving murderers leaving their victims locked away in a freezer.
Ms. Evergreen kept me company during those two days, telling me all about herself as a witch.
While it was interesting to say the least, I felt uncomfortable talking about magic and how she practices it.
After all, she works as an Earth Science teacher at a private school, a church that pays her to teach me science.
Science can’t explain magic. But she swears up and down that she practices good magic, like I’m supposed to know what that means.
While at Mr. Daniels’ mansion, I didn’t get to be in close proximity to him. It was as if he was trying to respect my space, my need to be alone given what I now knew about him.
He’s a vampire, Ms. Evergreen is a witch— it makes me wonder what else is real, if all paranormal creatures are. And come to think of it, I didn’t exactly see Mr. Daniels’ very often. He’d be out the door faster than my mind could comprehend.
By the time I returned to the private school, Ms. Evergreen seemed to take me under her wing. Whatever that meant. But it also signified that she thinks I’m like her— a witch. Although try as I might, I can’t seem to shake off the feeling that she could be right.
Several weeks go by. The only time I see Mr. Daniels is whenever I have a lesson period with him, otherwise I never get to talk with him.
Those few weeks, I didn’t have the nightmare and it was a blessing, and a curse.
A blessing so that I can finally get some much needed sleep, but a curse because I want an excuse to talk to Mr. Daniels, to Max, alone.
His voice gives me goosebumps, those dark eyes of his sends my heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. And that crooked smile nearly sends me into a frenzy of wanting to be like every other girl on the property— completely wanting to jump his bones.
I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I feel safe and protected when I’m in his presence. I don’t know if it’s because I know what he is, or because he rescued me. Either way, I’m grateful and wanting to be close to him makes me feel queasy.
The last time I tried to trust someone important in my life, they did something bad.
Mom had told me that this was the last straw, should I decide to leave this school for whatever reason, then she’d send me to a mental institution.
She’s still pissed that I caught dad selling illegal drugs to a few underage kids and got thrown in prison.
Mom even refuses to talk to me, and I’ve been at this school for a month, not that she seems to care.
The bell rings and startles me out of my daydream. Mr. Daniels is leaning his back against his desk and has his arms folded. That damn crooked smile is in place, and he seems to be watching me as I clamber to my feet, and I’m one of the last classmates to leave.
Faith stops in front of Mr. Daniels, and I can tell by the toss of her hair over her shoulder that she’s flirting with him. He replies and she laughs, reaching out to place a manicured hand on his forearm.
My hands ball into fists and something cracks under the force.
Glancing down, it’s the pen I’ve been writing with since I got here to the school.
There’s another laugh as Faith wanders out of the classroom.
Her leaving means that Mr. Daniels and I are completely alone.
I feel embarrassed and shove the broken pen into the pocket of my pencil plaid skirt.
“Do you need another?”
My head snaps up. “What?”
Mr. Daniels’ dark eyebrow is arched as he remains where he is, poised like a supermodel. “Another pen.”
“Oh.” My face grows hot as I fiddle with the strap of my book bag. “No. I think I can manage.” I immediately look down.
Good job Kota, just keep making a fool out of yourself! How are you going to write the rest of the day with a broken pen?
“Dakota.” When I look up, he’s a space away from me.
I hadn’t heard him move, hadn’t seen him until my breath catches in my throat.
Mr. Daniels hand is tracing the curve of my jaw and my knees threaten to buckle.
I don’t want him to stop. My pulse thrums in anticipation.
“Why don’t you look at me?” He sounds hurt.
I swallow hard, “I…I can’t.”
His thumb stops tracing the outer edge of my bottom lip. “Why?”
I shut my eyes, unable to stare at his face.
If I do, I’ll surely spring myself on him and we can’t have that. It’s not just because he’s a vampire, Mr. Daniels is also, well, my teacher.
“You’re ashamed of me.”
My eyes snap open and I gawk at him. “No! That’s not it at all!”
He’s giving me a level-headed stare. “Then what is?”
“We can’t— I mean, we shouldn’t—” Why am I fumbling with words that normally come so swift to me?
Mr. Daniels leans toward me and catches me by surprise when his cool lips touch my forehead. “I know. It’s hard for me too.”
My shoulders slump and I nearly drop my bag. “It is?”
“For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams.” His breath fans my face and I lean against him, his hand still cups my cheek with the gentlest touch.
“Who wrote that?” I breathe out, closing my eyes for a brief moment.
If only we could remain like this, knowing together that we’re fighting an attraction that could’ve been the fates way of telling us off.
“Edgar Allan Poe.” Mr. Daniels says and drops his hand, taking a step away as I open my eyes to look up at his face. He’s withdrawing and I want something, anything to hold onto him and never let him go. He turns and holds up a pen. “Here. You’ll need this to complete your studies.”
I feel flushed all over as I accept the pen. “Thanks.”
The bell rings, signaling the beginning of second period. “I’ll write you a pass.” He turns and scribbles on a piece of paper, before handing it to me. I swallow hard as I accept it, unable to meet his dark eyes. “Please know that there are no others.”
“Others?” I look at him this time, feeling myself begin to frown. What is he talking about?
He gives me a crooked smile. “You’ll understand some day. Now go, before you’re late.” I open my mouth, then close it, shaking my head. I turn to go but he adds something that sends my heart fluttering in my chest. “And when we’re alone, call me Max.”
“There’s an assembly?” I balk as I trail behind Faith, Kendra, and Gertrude.
Alex keeps himself in step beside me. “We don’t live under a rock Kota.”
I roll my eyes and shove my shoulder playfully against his. “Whatever.”
I hadn’t exactly expected an assembly, but that’s where we’re headed. First the assembly and then midterms. I’m nervous because I admit I haven’t made attention in class with Mr. Daniels teaching.
We take a seat in our assigned desks and the principal of the private school goes over the rules as we gather for what I thought would be an assembly.
When I think of an assembly I imagine going to a gymnasium, sitting up on a rickety old bleacher, and then shouting while cheerleaders waved pompoms and football players showed off their muscles. That’s been every public school I’ve gone too. I guess not for this one though.
Papers are passed out and pencils are sharpened.
As I sit at my desk, I fiddle with a locket around my neck.
It’s the only thing I have to be remembered about my parents.
After all, with dad in jail and mom exiling me to this school, I haven’t heard from them since.
It’s been two months and while I don’t mind the no-contact policy, I’m feeling a little lonely from the other students.
They get gifts, visits, cards, letters, meanwhile I’d be lucky if I got even a text or a call from mine.
The lights dim over our heads and above us in the sanctuary where we gather for the midterms, there is a large screen and a projector turns on. I let out a soft sigh, and sink lower into my seat. Midterms have officially begun.
Two older women walk down the aisle off to my left and as they pass by, a chill creeps up my spine.
I keep my face forward and crane my head a little. My neck feels like it’s being pinched, and I reach up to try and fix the clasp. When that doesn’t work my arms start to feel heavy and my body sluggish. The room begins to spin a little, going in and out of focus.
Something’s wrong.
I’m not getting enough oxygen and my breaths are shallow.
Anxiety attack? Maybe, but it doesn’t feel like one.
I open my mouth to talk, but no sound comes out.
The screen is still playing the segment and going over what will be expected on the midterms set out before us, but I can’t think about that. Not when I feel like I’m about to pass out.
Turning my head takes a lot of effort and I scan the room for either Ms. Evergreen or Mr. Daniels.
I need help. And fast. Something isn’t right.
My eyes land on Mr. Daniels.
He furrows his eyebrows at me.
Ghostly hands seem to grasp at my cheeks and my head painfully twists to stare at the screen. There’s a pain and those ghostly hands don’t seem to release me, because no matter what I try, I can’t seem to turn my head to look back at Mr. Daniels.
I shift in my seat, but I can’t even lift up my arms. They feel dead at my sides, and I swallow hard, tears blurring my eyesight.
Max.
I will him to look my way, to come this way. I need him.
Max, please…I need you.