Fangs & First Kisses

Chapter 3

LEXI

I'm back in Mr. Parkson's office. Again.

The text he sent me last night had been vague but intriguing: Meet me at 8 a.m. in my office tomorrow. I have a surprise for you.

The secretary calls me in, her voice carrying the same forced politeness as yesterday. I roll my eyes at her as I push the door open.

Inside, Mr. Parkson sits behind his desk, hands folded neatly. He looks up with a warm smile. "Ah, Lexi. There you are. Come in and take a seat."

He gestures to the chair across from him—the same one as before. I sit, crossing my arms, narrowing my eyes.

"What's this surprise?" I ask, my tone clipped.

Still smiling, he reaches into a drawer and pulls out a beautifully wrapped package. The paper is smooth, elegant, almost too nice to tear apart. He places it in front of me.

"Go on, open it."

I hesitate, glancing at him before carefully unwrapping the gift. The second I see the words Photo Album engraved in gold on the leather cover, my throat tightens.

My fingers tremble as I flip to the first page.

And then I see it.

A photo—Dad, Mum, Pen, the twins, and me. All together. Before.

A sharp, stinging sensation rushes to my eyes and nose. I try to suppress it, like I always do, but it's useless. The first tear slips free, then another, and before I know it, I'm crying.

No—sobbing.

I grip the edges of the album as regret crashes over me in waves. Regret for every time I pushed them away. For every time I ignored their calls, dismissed their concern, assumed they'd always be there.

Now, they never will be.

I bury my face in the book, my tears staining the pages.

Across the desk, Mr. Parkson remains quiet, but when I finally look up, I see his eyes are glassy too.

"I..." My voice shakes. I wipe my face with my sleeve and try again. "Thank you. I'm so sorry for yelling at you yesterday."

He just nods, silent but understanding, as he slides a handkerchief across the desk. I take it, dabbing at my swollen eyes.

A few minutes later, I leave his office, gripping the album like it's my last tether to reality. In the bathroom, I pull out my phone and snap pictures of every page. I don't want to risk losing this, even if it's just digitally.

As I clutch the book to my chest, fresh tears spill over.

I don't know how long I stand there before finally leaving the stall.

***

Back in homeroom, I walk in on something bizarre.

Owen stands frozen in the middle of the room, staring down at a piece of paper. It's soaked in something dark red.

The entire class is silent, eyes locked on him in horror.

I cup my hand over my mouth.

Ms. Jackie is the first to speak. "Owen... Is that actual blood?"

Owen looks up, his pale face tinged with red. His lips press into a thin line before he stammers, "N-No, Ms. Jackie... It's cranberry juice."

Cranberry juice?

His voice shakes. His hands are trembling. His eyes—red-rimmed, like he's been crying.

Before anyone can say anything else, he snatches the paper and bolts out of the room.