The End

Chapter 4

Duke was in my English class, sitting behind me, acting as if I wasn’t there. The teacher, Mr. Burstein, was kind and funny, the class speeding by. Before I knew it, it was lunch. As I had no need to eat, I found a tree to sit under in the garden outside of the cafeteria while the other students ate and joked.

As I waited for the awkward time to end, I noticed movement on the other side of the tree. He sat quietly, not wanting to disturb me. It was like he was guarding me, like I was something that needed protected and he was the sentry. Duke never looked at me, only surveying the students milling about.

As I prepared to search for my next class, a familiar face crossed the garden, heading directly for me. Amber, the President of Student Council.

“You’re Florence, right?” she asked warmly, smiling as I nodded. “Welcome to Seneca Valley,” she said, extending her hand. I took it awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

“Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

“I’m not very hungry,” I lied. What was I supposed to say? No, thanks; I don’t feel like exploding today.

“Okay. What class do you have next?” she continued, meaning to be nice, but seeming incredibly nosy.

“Drawing.”

“Do you know where that is?”

I shook my head, hoping that she would leave me alone.

“I’ll show you,” she offered. Though I disliked her interest in life, I did appreciate not having to find the next class. I smiled in acceptance as she helped me off the ground. We began walking to the main building when she pulled me into the bushes. Confused, I looked over to find Amber checking to make sure we were alone.

“Florence, I understand that you’re new, so I thought I’d help you out.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Duke Reynolds is trouble.”

“What?”

“Duke, the boy you were sitting with, is trouble. You should avoid him,” she spat.

“Why do you say that?” I questioned. This was really confusing.

“He’s just—a not very—just avoid him,” she exclaimed, walking away, leaving me to find drawing on my own.

***

The day passed silently after the events with Duke and Amber. He was in every class I had, and in each, he sat directly behind me. Not saying anything, just watching, guarding.

When the final bell rang, I made my way through the masses; in the direction I thought my locker was located. The students rushed by, joking, reuniting. Crossing the parking lot, I looked up to find him, once again, staring.

He stood on the soccer field across campus, overseeing my movements. He wore athletic short, showing his lean, tanned legs. He had no shirt on, exposing his chest and broad shoulders, splotches of ink dotting his smooth skin sporadically. Still watching me, He bent to pick up the shin guards at his feet. Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground, gaze still locked on mine as he pulled on the protective equipment, biceps rippling.

I forced myself to move, though he continued to stare. Opening the door of my car, I tried to take everything in: I go to school now, I think I like a boy, I need to work on a government project with that boy, and I’m pretty sure that boy hates me. This “acting normal” thing may not be difficult, after all.

***

I checked the mirror one last time, examining my straight hair, hanging like a black curtain. My green eyes shone from beneath my heavy lashes. The gray t-shirt pulled any color form my skin, leaving me almost transparent-looking in the morning sunlight, which streamed through my window.

Quickly rechecking my house, for the third time that morning, I departed, walking to the car, which sat at the curb. The ten-minute drive did nothing to ease my apprehension about this afternoon. Upon arrival, I noticed him, sitting alone on a bench not far from my parking spot. After standing form the bench, he followed me silently into the building.

His locker was two from mine. Duke opened it, then watched as I organized mine, occasionally pulling a book form the shelf. Slamming the door and taking a large step, he towered over me, smirking. I shut the metal door and walked away wordlessly. He followed.

The morning went like that; if I moved, Duke moved. Wherever I went, he was there, too. He never said a word, just followed. I sat under the tree at lunch, and much to Amber’s dismay, he did as well.

After another boring day, the final bell tolled. Duke, still being a shadow, followed me to my car. As I moved to the drivers seat, he gripped my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.

“No. Let me,” he murmured, his voice heavy.

“But-“

“Let me.”

He walked around the car, pulling me by the arm, and opened the door. Making sure I was safely inside, he shut the door, entering his seconds later. Taking my place in the drivers seat, he gripped the wheel tightly, but not hard enough to disguise the unmistakable tremble in his fingers. His eyes bounced around as we made our way out of the parking lot. Once on the road, his eyes flitted between the road and my face, while mine remained locked on his. The ride was silent apart form the mumbling of directions.

We arrived at my house; he took his spot behind me as we drew toward the door. I showed him into my tiny home, directing him into the living room where he sat quietly.

I shut the front door, and something changed in him. His gray eyes hardened instantly, morphing into an authoritative, commanding steel gray. He stood, looking almost feral.

“What is he doing?’ he demanded.

“What?”

“Stephens, what is he doing?” he asked less patiently.

“What are you talking about?”

“He wants more of the substance than ever before. What is going on?” he asked, his tone harsh.

“I honestly have no idea, but—how do you-“

“I know everything about you, Florence,” he interrupted. “The process you were made by, each chemical in your veins, everything,” he hissed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, trying to defend myself. This is very, very bad.

“I know what you are—or at least what you’re not.”