(1)ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴍʏ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ ──── ROADTRIPTV √

𝔈𝔭𝔦𝔰𝔬𝔡𝔢 𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶-𝔬𝔫𝔢 ✔️

"I can't read a thing," said Andy, staring at what now seemed to be a featureless piece of white paper. He looked up at Mikey and Jack and saw two white blobs of faces.

"Something must be wrong with the emergency generator," said Jack. "I'll get Mr. Shelby."

"Can't we just finish tomorrow?" Mikey said plaintively. "Tomorrow's Saturday," said Andy. "And we were supposed to have this done last week."

"I'll get Shelby," said Jack again. "Come on, Mikey, you're going with me."

Andy began, "We could all go-" but Jack interrupted.

"If we all go and we can't find him, then we can't get back in. Come on, Mijey it's only inside the school."

"But it's dark there."

"It's dark everywhere; it's nighttime. Comeon; with two of us it'll be safe." He dragged an unwilling Mikey to the door. "Andy, don't let anybody else in."

"As if you had to tell me," said Andy, letting them out and then watching them go a few paces down the hall. At the point at which they began to merge with the dimness, he stepped back inside and shut the door.

Well, this was a fine mess, as his mother used to say. Andy moved over to the cardboard box Jack had brought and began stacking filing folders and notebooks back inside it. In this light he could see them only as vague shapes. There was no sound at all but his own breathing and the sounds he made. He was alone in the huge, dim room-

Someone was watching him.

He didn't know how he knew, but he was sure. Someone was behind him in the dark gymnasium, watching.Eyes in the dark , the old man had said. Lisa had said it, too. And now there were eyes on him.
He whirled quickly to face the room, straining his own eyes to see into the shadows, trying not even to breathe. He was terrified that if he made a sound the thing out there would get her. But he could see nothing, hear nothing.

The bleachers were dim, menacing shapes stretching out into nothingness. And the far end of the room was simply a featureless gray fog. Dark mist, he thought, and he could feel every muscle agonizingly tense as he listened desperately. Oh God, what was that soft whispering sound? It must be his imagination... Please let it be his imagination.

Suddenly, his mind was clear. He had to get out of this place,now . There was real danger here, not just fantasy. Something was out there, something evil, something that wanted him. And he was all alone.

Something moved in the shadows.

His scream froze in her throat. His muscles were frozen, too, held motionless by hus terror-and by some nameless force. Helplessly, he watched as the shape in the darkness moved out of the shadows and toward him. It seemed almost as if the darkness itself had come to life and was coalescing as he watched, taking on form-human form, the form of a young man.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you." The voice was pleasant, with a slight accent she couldn't place. It didn't sound sorry at all.

Relief was so sudden and complete that it was painful. He slumped and heard his own breath sigh out.

It was only a guy, some former student or an assistant of Mr. Shelby's. An ordinary guy, who was smiling faintly, as if it had amused him to see him almost pass out.

Well... perhaps not quite ordinary. He was remarkably good-looking. His face was pale in the artificial twilight, but he could see that his features were cleanly defined and nearly perfect under a shock of dark hair. Those cheekbones were a sculptor's dream. And he'd been almost invisible because he was wearing black: soft black boots, black jeans, black sweater, and leather jacket.

He was still smiling faintly. Andy's relief turned to anger.

"How did you get in?" he demanded. "And what are you doing here? Nobody else is supposed to be in the gym."

"I came in the door," he said. His voice was soft, cultured, but he could still hear the amusement and he found it disconcerting.

"All the doors are locked," he said flatly, accusingly.

He raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Are they?"

Andy felt another quiver of fear, hairs lifting on the back of her neck. "They were supposed to be," he said in the coldest voice he could manage.

"You're angry," he said gravely. "I said I was sorry to frighten you."

"I wasn't frightened!" he snapped. She felt foolish in front of him somehow, like a child being humored by someone much older and more knowledgeable. It made him even angrier. "I was just startled," he continued. "Which is hardly surprising, what with you lurking in the dark like that."

"Interesting things happen in the dark... sometimes." He was still laughing at him; he could tell by his eyes. He had taken a step closer, and he could see that those eyes were unusual, almost black, but with odd lights in them. As if you could look deeper and deeper until you fell into them, and went on falling forever.

he realized he was staring. Why didn't the lights come on? He wanted to get out of here. He moved away, putting the end of a bleacher between them, and stacked the last folders into the box. Forget the rest of the work for tonight. All he wanted to do now was leave.

But the continuing silence made him uneasy. He was just standing there, unmoving, watching him. Why didn't he say something?

"Did you come looking for somebody?" he was annoyed with herself for being the one to speak.

He was still gazing at him, those dark eyes fixed on him in a way that made her more and more uncomfortable. He swallowed.

With his eyes on his lips, he murmured, "Oh, yes." "What?" He'd forgotten what He'd asked. His cheeks and throat were flushing, burning with blood. He felt so light-headed. If only he'd stop looking at him...

"Yes, I came here looking for someone," he repeated, no louder than before. Then, in one step he moved toward him, so that they were separated only by the corner of one bleacher seat.

Andy couldn't breathe. He was standing so close. Close enough to touch. He could smell a faint hint of cologne and the leather of his jacket. And his eyes still held him-he could not look away from them. They were like no eyes he had ever seen, black as midnight, the pupils dilated like a cat's. They filled his vision as he leaned toward him, bending his head down to his. He felt is own eyes half close, losing focus. He felt his head tilt back, his lips part.

No! Just in time he whipped his head to the side. He felt as if he'd just pulled himself back from the edge of a precipice. What am I doing? he thought in shock. I was about to let him kiss me. A total stranger, someone I met only a few minutes ago.

But that wasn't the worst thing. For those few minutes, something unbelievable had happened. For those few minutes, he had forgotten Rye.

But now his image filled his mind, and the longing for him was like a physical pain in her body. He wanted Rye, wanted his arms around him, wanted to be safe with him.
He swallowed. His nostrils flared as he breathed hard. He tried to keep his voice steady and dignified.

"I'm going to leave now," he said. "If you're looking for somebody, I think you'd better look somewhere else."

He was looking at him oddly, with an expression he couldn't understand. It was a mixture of annoyance and grudging respect-and something else. Something hot and fierce that frightened him in a different way.

He waited until his hand was on the doorknob to answer, and his voice was soft but serious, with no trace of amusement. "Perhaps I've already found him... Andy."

When he turned, he could see nothing in the darkness.

------------------------------------------

Draft: 04 August 2021

Final Edit: 01 September 2023