Crazy Love

Chapter Seven: Some Major Creepy Juju

Chapter Seven: Some Major Creepy Juju

It’s just before third period when I figure it out.          

I’m walking in the direction of Lily’s locker, whilst digging through my book bag for my book on Rembrandt. I bump into what feels like a wall, and it’s like that night at the party as I look up and it’s Ian who looks down at me. Though luckily, this time his eyes aren’t glazed over.

He smiles, a wide and honest smile, and it makes me want to smile too. Old feelings don’t die hard. “Violet!” He says, “What’s up?”

I give him a half smile. “Oh, nothing, really.” I pause, and feel myself starting to slip. Ian sees the look on my face and his smile is gone. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Ian pulls me aside so we’re standing in small alcove next to the athletic trophy’s case and out of the hallway traffic. I shake my head at him. “I’m fine, it’s just…something weird is going on and—” I cut off as a figure dressed in all black catches my eye. I watch as Damina Sevre stands by a row of lockers across the hallway. She’s looking directly at me, smirking, and I could swear a second time that a tinged red color flits through her eyes.

You’re going to get what’s coming to you. Her voice from a few weeks ago echoes in my head. And it’s like a lightbulb, and I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before. Though its insane, it’s the only explanation. I guess I blocked it out because of how freaky was.

But now I know, that whatever is happening to me….it’s all because of her.

I blink in shock, and she gives me a threatening nod and vanishes around the corner.

Ian is still staring at me. “Seriously, Vi, you’re worrying the hell out of me.”

“I….I have to go.” I told him, distracted, my mind whirring.

“What? No, Vi!”

I pulled out of his grip and sprinted down the emptying hallway, ignoring his calls after me. Luckily, Lily was still by her locker, patting her face with a  powder brush in the mirror.

“Lil, do you have paper?” I asked her, out of breath. “And a pen?” She gives me a weird look but hands me what I ask. I press the sticky note against the locker next to hers and scribble down a note. “Thanks!” I tell her, giving her pen back to her, and running past her without giving her a chance to speak.

When I get to the right locker, I slip the note in.

I hope this works.

“VIOLET!” I hear the shout behind me, and I quickly pick up my pace down the hall.

 “VIOLET! Hey, there you are!” I turn and face Greg. Greg, director of every single play Haimes has ever had. His dirty blonde hair is tousled and acne lingers on the indent of his chin. His light eyes are bright and wild. “I need to talk to you!”                                                                                                   

“Another time Greg.” I tell him, panic ensuing in my chest when I realize he is right behind me. I can smell the stench of his breath. Running down the hallway, I find the door to the computer lab, finally.                                                                                                       

“You run fast.”                                             

I yelp and spun around. He’s still behind me. Greg steps closer, and I step back. He has me against the door. “I just want to talk.” His voice is bright, happy in a creepy falsetto way.