Nightwalker

Forty-Five

Trigger Warning: this chapter contains references to sensitive topics that may be upsetting to you. Readers discretion is advised.

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Riordan

I'm certain I'm gonna puke.

Going back to school after Martie's attack was my worst nightmare come true.

By now, everyone and their mothers knew about Martie's condition. I usually spent every waking second with Martie and Thor outside my regular classes—we came together like a package.

A bunch of puzzle pieces that just fit right.

But now, it feels like because one of the pieces has been damaged, none of us fit together anymore.

Thor's been avoiding me like the bubonic plague, and all I could think about was my father.

I'd been so hard on him not knowing he had to shoulder so much weight. At the same time, I was angry and heartbroken that I was lied to for so long.

All those moments I'd gotten myself into odd predicaments, or the blistering migraines from visions, sleepless nights and night terrors when I was younger— he knew it was all part of my clairvoyance. He knew I had these abilities all along and didn't let me know.

I could've had someone else to shoulder the brute force of coming into my own—someone to hug and stroke my head while telling me my abilities were normal and okay. Someone to reassure young me that she wasn't a freak for seeing terrible things when she closed her eyes.

Instead, I looked for it in my dead mother. And I found it too late.

The school halls clear for second period, slightly giving me some relief that I'd missed the entire first class.

It takes everything in me to pull myself towards my locker to haul my backpack into.

"Ri!"

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

Christ.

"Didn't think you could run away for that long, could you?"

"I'm late for second period."

Phoenix shuts my locker abruptly, nearly missing my fingers.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

The halls were virtually clear now, making me insanely uneasy.

I can't be alone with him.

"You don't have second period on Mondays."

My eyes ached. I was unbelievably exhausted, struggling to muster up anything.

Come on, lie, dammit!

"I switched classes."

"Frankly, I don't care."

"Then why're you here? What do you want from me?"