Acquainted ⇒ Brett Talbot

III. Going To Hell

Wesley leans against my locker, his hands folded over his chest. "Would you like to accompany me to lacrosse practice?"

I furrow my eyebrows at him. "You play lacrosse? With these twigs?" I squeeze his arm.

He laughs. "God, no. Jesus, woman, I'm talking about admiring the view." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Really, Wesley? Remember what happened last time I was admiring a certain Tall Lacrosse Sex God?"

"Come on," he says. "You can't leave me alone. Sweaty shirtless boys playing sport. Who the hell am I going to rank best ass to worst ass with?"

"Are you seriously dragging me along to look at boy's asses?"

"Are you seriously telling me that Brett in grey sweatpants doesn't sound extremely appealing to you?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Sooo...where is this lacrosse field you speak of?"

Lacrosse practice does not disappoint at all. My eyes fall onto a shirtless Brett dashing across the field and shoot the ball straight into the goal. "He's like a majestic gazelle," Wesley says beside me in awe.

"God, I love lacrosse," I mutter.

I drop down onto a bench next to Wesley and slide my bag off my shoulder. "Do we have any homework for tomorrow?" I ask, catching sight of the books in my bag.

Wesley throws his hands up in the air. "We are literally in paradise and you want to ruin it by talking about homework?"

I laugh. "I'm sure the lacrosse team's asses aren't going anywhere," I say. "You can take your eyes off the field for one second."

He blinks slowly, keeping his eyes on the field. "Whatever," he says. "Lenore, I'm totally going to hell for this."

"Make that two of us," I mutter.

He laughs and his eyes glaze over my face. As soon as his eyes meet mine, his smile falls. "Lenore, your face," he says.

"Uh, what?" I furrow my eyebrows at him.

He looks worryingly at me. "You have these...veins under your eyes. Are you okay? You look a little pale."

I turn away and shut my eyes. "Yeah, uh, I just need to go. My aunt just texted."

I grab my bag and hurry down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

"I didn't hear a phone ring," Wesley yells after me.

Oh my god. Damn this school uniform for not being practical enough to run properly in. I scurry across the grass, my feet catching on every stick and rock in my way as I try to get away as soon as possible. No one can see me like this.

Those veins that I saw in the mirror the other day were not normal. I looked like a fucking heroin addict or something. No, not even a heroin addict. I looked like a fucking monster.

I find my way to the girl's bathroom near the bleachers and haul the door open. I swear to god if there's someone else here...

I stop in front of the mirror and peer at my reflection.

My hand goes subconsciously to my cheek, where the veins are writhing across my face. They seem to be branching down from my eyes. I cock my head. Something's happening to me and it doesn't seem good at all.

I look down at my hands, gripping the basin so hard that my knuckles go white. My hands are too pale and have a greyish pallor to them. I can hear my breathing, heavy and loud. I raise my head to meet my reflection again.