Supernatural Boarding School #2 - A Touch of Red ✅

Chapter 9

“I think it’s about time you and I talked about why you’re so upset about the letter.”

Eros grunted and closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see me anymore. We were in bed together, just like the night before, only this time he had been awake while I had crawled in. He had not expected me to keep up my plan of sleeping right next to him now that he was sober, but I knew that it meant nothing if there was no one to keep an eye on him at night.

“Come on, Eros,” I pleaded. “It’s just me – you can tell me anything.” Dylan was taking a shower, so we were actually alone in the bedroom.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Eros answered irritated, still keeping him eyes shut firmly. He was acting like a little kid: if I don’t see her, she will disappear eventually.

“Your dad was an amazing man,” I whispered, touching Eros’ face gently. “Your mom can never change that fact.”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” He was getting angry now, his emotions growing darker every minute. I could feel doubt and resentment starting to overwhelm him – it would not be long before he started looking for booze to ease his pain.

“Fine,” I agreed. “How about we talk about the night you handed me the gun?”

Eros’ eyes flew open now, staring at me in surprise. “What about it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot today, actually…” I started, wondering how to phrase my thoughts. Ever since my psychologist Anthony had asked me about my feelings about Eros refusing to take the gun himself and point it at me, I had been wondering about it. Especially today, when Eros, Simon and I had been watching TV and eating chocolate after my little breakdown about the feeding rooms, I had been thinking about it. Contemplating about the monster I was going to become and the poor animals being used to feed vampires hurt too much, so I had been focusing on my session with Anthony instead. I had to go back there the next day, and so far I hadn’t gotten much out of Simon. He had been there Monday as well, but he did not need to go back before next week. I must have done something wrong… Eros was supposed to go on Thursday, and I had no idea how often he would need to go. Was I really the most screwed-up of the three of us? You would think with Simon’s parents thinking he was gay and setting him up with guys and Eros’ episodes of madness and alcohol abuse that the three of would be more even, right?

“What about the night at the village?” Eros pressed.

“Why did you hand me the gun?” I asked softly. “Why not use it yourself?”

He blinked. “I told you back then: I couldn’t stand the thought of having to point it at you.”

“Yes, but…” I hesitated, afraid to make him even more upset than he already was. He was pining for some alcohol to free his mind from all the hurtful thoughts about his dad already. Maybe I should have picked a lighter subject?  But then again, I was distracting him… “Did you ever stop to think about how it felt for me to point the gun at you?”

“You were never going to actually shoot me,” he argued. “It was just a ploy to keep the officers focused on us.”

I nodded – I remembered clearly what we had tried to do. I had yelled at him, pretending to be planning to shoot him. We had made the policemen believe that he was my boyfriend and that we had some trouble, resulting in me wanting to kill him for being with another girl. He’d called me Carly and I had chosen the fake name Freddie for him.

“You wouldn’t have shot me either,” I said slowly. “So you must have had a good reason to not want to be the one handling the gun yourself.”