After what only seems like a few minutes, Alya hears the door downstairs open again.
She huffs out her breath. "Go away, James! I don't want to talk to you!"
No answer.
Alya sits up in bed. "James?"
A pause. "It's not James."
Edward. Alya knows she should be relieved but a knot of worry twists into her stomach. I do find that Edward guy very suspicious; I wouldn't be surprised if he was the murderer. James' voice rings in her ears. She pulls the blanket closer around her. What if he is the murderer?
"Alya?" Edward calls out. "Where are you? The door was unlocked; did you know that?"
She was going to kill James if this was ever over. What was he thinking, leaving her at risk with a murderer on the lose?
"Alya? Are you here?"
"Yeah," Alya says weakly. "I'm up here, Edward."
Another pause. "Are you all right?"
Yes. She tries to force the word out, but her lip trembles. She doesn't speak for fear of bursting into tears.
"Alya?"
She takes a steady breath. "Yes, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
Her face crumbles suddenly. "I- I don't know."
"I'm coming up."
Panic grips Alya's heart. "No, please don't!" She pictures him walking up the stairs, brandishing a kitchen knife in one hand. She pictures herself on the front cover of a magazine at the supermarket, blood soaking her sheets. She pictures Tom hearing about her death, feeling elated to be free of her-
She hears Edward walking up the stairs, his dress shoes clacking against the wood. He appears in her doorway suddenly. She instantly squeezes her eyes shut. Would it even matter if she died?
"Alya," Edward says, sounding not the least bit amused. "I'm not going to hurt you."
She slowly opens her eyes. "I'm sorry."
He sighs. "No need to be."
What does he mean by that? she wonders, but pushes the thought to the back of her mind. "Why are you here, Edward?" she asks.
"Just checking up on you." He shrugs. "James asked me to," he adds.
"Ugh, James!" Alya says, flopping onto the bed and covering her head with the pillow. "I hate him!"
"Are you all right?" Edward says. He sits down on her bed.
"I don't know, Edward! I- I just don't know." She rolls over and stares up at the ceiling.
"Can you tell me what's wrong?" Edward says softly.
"It's James," Alya says. "He's just been acting weird recently and I don't know why and now we broke up-" Alya claps her hand over her mouth. Her eyes dart to Edward. "You heard that didn't you?"
Edward's expression doesn't change. "Yes."
Before she can realize what she's doing, Alya reaches over and grabs Edward's hand. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"
He smiles slightly, glancing down at her tan fingers resting on his pale hand. She blushes and retracts her hand. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine," he says, tearing his eyes away. "I won't tell anyone."
"Promise?"
He cracks a smile. "I promise."
Alya sighs. "How long have you known about me and James? You did know- didn't you?"
He snorts. "Everyone knows. Everyone on set at least; the people in the movie theaters will just think you guys are really good at acting."
"Everyone?" Alya groans.
"You've got something special with him, Alya," Edward says quietly.
Alya thinks for a minute. "I know, but-"
"You don't have to do anything about it right now. There's plenty of time for you to mend things." He smiles. "In the meantime, can I do anything that will make you feel better?"
Alya sits up. "Actually..."
YOU ARE READING
Psycho #OpenNovellaContest
General Fiction"I want to help you," the man next to her says. She shivers as the hand rests on her thigh again. But this time, she doesn't push him away. He lowers his voice to a whisper, so quiet that not even the microphones can pick it up. "People do strange t...
