Bloodlines and Betrayal

21: 🐺

The day at school had dragged on interminably, each minute stretching longer than the last. News of my rescue had spread like wildfire, and as Colton and I walked through the bustling hallways, we were met with an endless stream of whispers and stares. Some students cheered, offering words of support, while others exchanged hushed conversations, their eyes following us with a mixture of awe and speculation.

Despite the support, I felt a gnawing sense of unease. The attention was overwhelming, and the constant scrutiny was wearing me thin. Colton walked beside me, his presence a steady anchor amidst the sea of curious glances. I clung to his arm, seeking comfort in his proximity.

"Colton, have you seen Alex?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the worry twisting in my chest.

Colton scanned the hallway, his brow furrowed. "Not yet," he replied. "But she's probably around here somewhere. Let's keep looking."

We moved through the crowd of students, their whispers and stares intensifying as we navigated the sea of teenage bodies. The murmur of conversations was a constant backdrop: rumors about the vampires, speculation about my captivity, and relief at my return. It was all too much to process, and my anxiety only grew with each step.

As we reached the end of the hallway, Alex was nowhere to be seen. I felt a pang of worry that I couldn't quite explain. It wasn't like her to miss such an important moment.

"Colton, I don't see her," I said, my voice quivering slightly. "She's usually here waiting for me."

Colton's gaze swept the hallway again, his concern evident. "Maybe she's in class already," he suggested, though his tone lacked conviction. "Let's head to her locker and see if we can find any clues."

We made our way to Alex's locker, the chatter of students around us gradually fading as they went to their respective classrooms. I glanced around one last time, hoping to catch a glimpse of Alex, but she remained elusive.

Colton and I stood by Alex's locker, the silence between us growing heavier. Colton fished out his phone and tried calling her again, but the call went straight to voicemail. I bit my lip, feeling a growing sense of unease.

"Something's not right," I said. "Alex would have been here by now."

Colton nodded, his jaw set in determination. "Let's check her house. Maybe she went home early or something."

The drive to Alex's house was a blur of anxiety and unanswered questions. The sun was setting as we pulled into her quiet suburban neighborhood. Alex's car was parked in the driveway, its presence both reassuring and alarming.

We hurried up the front steps and rang the doorbell. Mrs. Thompson, Alex's mother, answered with a look of surprise that quickly shifted to concern as she took in our anxious faces.

"Hi, Mrs. Thompson," I said, forcing a smile. "We're looking for Alex. We haven't been able to find her all day, and we thought she might be here."

Mrs. Thompson's face fell. "Alex is here, but she's not answering her phone," she said, her voice tinged with worry. "I thought she might be napping or studying. Come in. I'll check on her."

We followed her inside, the warmth of the house a stark contrast to the chill of our growing apprehension. Mrs. Thompson led us upstairs to Alex's room, her steps hesitant. She knocked gently on the door before opening it, revealing an empty room. Alex's bed was neatly made, and her books were stacked on her desk. Her phone lay on the bed, its screen lit up with a missed call notification.

"This doesn't make any sense," I said, my heart racing. "She was definitely here. Why isn't she answering?"

Mrs. Thompson's distress was evident. "She was supposed to be here. I don't understand where she could have gone."