Chapter 6
Sometimes I think I might be dreaming.
That's how I felt when I woke up this morning, more tired than I was the day before. Like my reality is a dream and I never wake up from it.
I wonder if whatever happened two nights ago was just a figment of my over active imagination. A far fetched gaming fantasy for someone who kills simulated people just before sleep.
But then the bone deep exhaustion sinks in and the black dress floating over the pile of laundry screams at me to wake up. To do something.
Only I don't know what. Because now I know I can't go to the police and the one person who might have an inkling as to what is going on, is also missing.
I pick up my phone and scroll through the messages from the groups I share with others. Still no reply from Aaron.
My gaming group - titled Phantom - is currently pissed off with me since I've missed the last two nights. My excuse for being sick wasn't taken so well and it makes me wonder why they take these things so seriously.
It's not like we get paid for planting and defusing bombs all night.
My phone buzzes again and I see that the girls have met up for breakfast. Stacey's already out, she's the definition of a morning person and Elizabeth and Dannielle have just joined her for coffee.
They're asking about me and I quickly type out a reply.
"Just getting ready. See you guys at lunch."
I rub my tired face and force myself to get up. My movements are slow and mechanic as I get ready for the long day of classes ahead. I throw on the first plain shirt I can find and slip on a pair of jeans before wearing my favourite pair of worn out converse.
I've never been a breakfast person, so I head straight for computer lab in one of the back buildings. The small room is empty when I walk in, but soon students slowly trickle in and like yesterday, I keep an eye out for Aaron.
My heart sinks when I don't see him. Something's wrong. A feeling of discomfort settles in my gut like a warning.
Somehow I know he's in trouble. I just don't know what to do about it.
I barely make it through the lesson. My mind is all over the place and when our lecturer pats me on the shoulder, I nearly jump out of my skin.
"Everything alright, Daphne? You're looking a little pale." Ms Jacobs observes, staring down at me.
"I'm fine." My answer comes out too quick, too defensive, it only makes her eyes narrow.
"Come see me after class," she says. Great, just what I needed.
She waits for me as the students rush off to their next class and the resounding silence in the room has me growing nervous.
"You know we have an on campus nurse you could go to if you're unwell, right?" She's seated by the desk next to the windows, and the warm sunlight slips through the slats, illuminating her youthful face. Her brown hair is pulled back and her cheeks are round, tinted pink by blush.
I always felt she could pass off as a student. She looks like she just graduated yesterday.
"I'm fine. Just a little tired." I wipe the glistening sweat lining my brows. It isn't even warm in here and I'm sweating. Maybe she's right. Maybe I am sick and this has all been a fever dream.
Still doesn't explain why Aaron's been missing though.
"Umm, have you heard from Aaron, Ms Jacobs?" I stutter a little and then shut my mouth quickly, wondering why I asked her to begin with.
Her thin eyebrows bunch together in a small frown and she looks through the attendance sheet. "I think he called in sick, if I'm not mistaken. Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering. That's all." I peek at the half open door, wondering if I should make a run for it before she asks more. "Umm, I need to get to my next class."
She gives me a warm smile, something I never realised I needed. I find myself smiling back, until the silence grows awkward and I run out of the room.
Lunch is worse than I expected. I'm usually the quiet, pensive one but Elizabeth sees right through me like a glass window. Once we're out of the hall, she grabs my arm, pulling me to the side.
"Something's off with you." It's a statement, not a question and there's no point arguing with Elizabeth when she's made up her mind.
"I'm tired. Can't a girl be tired? I think it's that time of the month."
She raises her eyebrows, her sweet face filled with skepticism. "You said that last week. But today you look like hell, so can't be that."
Damn, she's worse than those period tracking apps.
She folds her arms over each other, frowning at me. "What happened that night? Did Aaron do something to you?"
"No," I answer defensively. She's never liked Aaron and now it's starting to annoy me. "Nothing happened, alright? Honestly, I don't know what's your deal with him."
Her lips purse together as she holds in her response, looking like she wants to say more. She looks behind my shoulder and I startle when Stacey clamps a hand down on my shoulder, squeezing it.
"What are you girls waiting here for? We have class remember?"
Her voice slices through the tension between Elizabeth and I. Elizabeth casts me a look, one that tells me she doesn't believe me one bit and I back away from her.
"Yeah, we'd better go." I shoot her a look of warning, to which she only frowns before I turn around and head to the auditorium in the old wing.
I'm shuffling around for the books I must have forgotten, half listening to Stacey tell me about someone from the football team who sprained his ankle this morning.
"It's going to be horrible without Eric. How are we going to win against --." she pauses and I look up at her, wondering why she fell silent.
Her mouth is half open as she stops between words and I follow her line of sight to the front of the auditorium.
Our lecturer, Mr Wheeler - a middle aged, balding man who loves his tweed jackets - is standing by the projector, but that's not what has everyone going silent.
The chatter in the large space dies down, all noise snuffed out by the sight of the two guys standing next to him.
I sit up straight, just like many of the other girls in the room and Mr Wheeler clears his throat.
"Umm, we have two new transfer students I'd like to introduce to you today." He turns to the two guys by his side, looking slightly intimidated. They stand out like two imposing figures with their towering builds and tattooed arms.
"Please welcome Alex and Yonah, from New York."
Both men stand tall, like military agents, with their feet wide apart and hands crossed over their front. My eyes immediately lock on the one standing right next to Mr Wheeler.
I think he might just be the most beautiful man I've ever seen in my life.
He has dark hair that has been swept back from his chiseled face, revealing high cheekbones and a sharp, angular jaw. Light stubble gives a softness to his face but that's probably the softest thing about him.
His eyes are a piercing blue and he stares at the room with cold precision, looking like he's assessing each and every one of us.
I adjust my hair and shirt, suddenly self conscious as his eyes pass over my row.
His black shirt and pants are so fitted they leave little to the imagination.
He's all rippling muscle, the veins in his forearms stark and pronounced.
My gaze drops to his polished shoes, glinting under the white lights, before slowly traveling upward - lingering on the intricately inked tattoos that map his skin.
Flower tattoos wrap around his throat, delicate in design yet striking against the hard lines of his body. The contrast unsettles me - something so beautiful etched over such a lethal presence - and I can't stop staring, as if the tattoos themselves are daring me closer.
I sneak a glance at his companion who has light blonde hair but my eyes somehow travel back to him. It's hard not to stare and I'm glad I'm not the only one.
He obviously doesn't fit in here. The guy stands out like a sore thumb.
The two of them nod at Mr Wheeler politely and walk up the steps to take their seats. The room is so quiet that I hear every footstep. The gorgeous man takes a seat on the other side of the auditorium, if I turned my head slightly I would have direct line of sight but I force myself to focus.
Which is hard, because somehow it feels like someone is watching me throughout the entire lesson.
Mr. Wheeler paces the length of the floor, motioning to a series of designs projected onto the screen - fonts, colour palettes, grids. I try my best to concentrate, but my focus slips, again and again.
Finally, I give in and turn to the side.
The beautiful man is staring at his empty foldable table but then he looks up, catching my stare. His piercing blue eyes met mine and a shiver runs through me. It's an odd feeling, like I know him from somewhere even though that is impossible.
The corners of his lips pull apart ever so slightly, and his gaze is so intense, so consuming, that my cheeks burn, like he lit them on fire.
I swallow hard, unable to look away when his stare is so blatant and unyielding, trapping me in its hold.
His eyes travel lazily from mine to my nose, then to my lips - so slow and unhurried, almost deliberate. I shift in my seat, heat crawling up my spine, and when his gaze lifts to meet mine again, it pins me there. I wonder why he's staring, what he sees that I don't.
And then he smiles.
Ahh, they finally met. Did you expect to see him in her class? Also happy belated new year to you guys. Will be updating regularly now that all the running around is over :)