Before I Forget

Dreaming of Screaming

Tears burnt in the back of her throat when Sky walked into the school.

It was happening all over again. She gripped the straps of her backpack with a white knuckle grip, keeping her chin up, but it did no good. She heard the snickering, she saw the looks girls gave her - like she had a contagious disease that could spread to them if they allowed her near. And guys - well, she didn't have to be a Genius to know what they thought about her.

They thought she was disgusting. But apparently, they all still wanted to fuck her - the slut who was so shit-faced she couldn't even stand.

That shouldn't surprise her. Guys, they were all the same. They were all just like Matt–

Sky pushed that thought off before the screaming in her mind could start, sucked in a trembling breath, and walked past another group of guys who laughed and made rude comments as she passed them.

She held her chin high, flipped her hair over one shoulder, and pretended not to care. She was wearing an armor - black jeans and a black T-shirt with a Metallica logo on the front. The shirt was Kat's. Sky had found it in the box she had carried down from the attic with Aisha, the box that held all her memories of Kat. Now the statuette of David was back on her desk, a picture of her and Kat on her nightstand, and Kat's T-shirts in her closet. They didn't have her scent anymore - Sky had pressed her face in the soft fabric and inhaled as deep as she could to catch even a fragment of it, but it was gone, all that was left was the dusty smell of the attic, and she had had to wash the shirts before being able to wear them.

Still, they felt like Kat. And wearing her shirt, made Sky absorb some of her strength.

"Sky, wait–" someone called, a low, raspy voice, as she was walking to the hallway where the lockers were.

She didn't stop, just kept walking, until she found her locker and started unlocking it. Hawk didn't give up, he followed her and leaned on the lockers next to hers, giving her a small nod as a greeting.

"Hi," he said - his throaty voice sending shivers through Sky's spine. "I... I like your new style."

Sky glanced at him. He was wearing sweats and a hoodie, all black and red just like his hair and he looked sharp, rough, badass. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest at the sight of him, her mouth remembered the taste of his kisses.

"What do you want?" she asked. She put some things in the locker - her hoodie, some textbooks - and closed the door.

"To talk?"

"Nothing to talk about."

"Sky, the video–"

"Which one?" she turned to face him now, challenging his stare, gripping the straps of her backpack with a white knuckle grip.

Hawk's eyes widened, his throat bobbed. He had such a long neck, and the showiest swallow - his chin jutted out, his Adam's apple bounced. Sky could have looked at him swallow all day long, she would have kissed his throat right there, to feel the movement of muscle and tendon under the skin, the vibrations of his voice when he groaned.

She dragged her glance off his throat, started walking again. He followed.

"The one about you and me–" he said, trying to keep his voice low.

"There is no you and me."

"Sky–"

"No!" she didn't even turn to look at him, just kept walking with fast, hurrying steps. "Just, don't! I was drunk. I didn't even realize some people saw us! You... you should have known better!"

Hawk's long strides easily kept him by her side, no matter how fast Sky tried to walk. She couldn't bear his presence, his scent of steel and cotton, his warmth in the air close to her. The tone of his voice was too familiar, too dear to her, it would lure her into a trap and she would be stuck in his web again, and she would end up hurting, bleeding, dying on the cold, tiled floor.