I had downloaded some songs on my new phone, and the phone had came with these amazing cushy earphones. I had gotten to school early; before everyone else. I'm not exactly sure why...I had been in a weird mood all morning anyways.
I had woken up way earlier than usual after a peacefully dreamless sleep, only to my stomach to full of anxiety to eat, so I had skipped breakfast, and went ahead down to the basement and took the portal to school. Now, wedged in my totally uncomfortable desk in first period, waiting for the other students to arrive, I turned my music up, laid my head on my desk, and drifted between this world and the dream realm.
“Whatcya listening to?” I heard from behind me. I jumped about ten feet into the air, and grabbed my pencil.
“Oh, goodness Alex, you just about gave me a heart attack,” I said, yanking the headphones out of my head.
He took the pencil from me and examined it. “What were you going to do? Stab me? This pencil is a little dull...I would suggest sharpening it before murdering people with it,” he said in a helpful tone, shrugging his shoulders.
“What are ya doing here so early?” I asked, looking around the vacant classroom.
“I always get here around this time. Sometimes, I just walk on in to the classroom, sometimes I go stand out in the hallway and watch the people,” he said, shrugging. I realized he had always been there when I had gotten there, so that made since.
“Why do you watch the people?” I asked, suddenly curious. I had noticed him doing that a lot, and looking back on it, he had done that when we were kids. Sit back with an amused smile and watch people walk the halls, play on the playground, eat in the cafeteria. If they caught him watching he would always smile and wave, or sometimes, outright laugh.
“I think they are funny,” he said. When I arched my eyebrows, he shrugged and blushed a little. “They are all so dramatic, and so proud of themselves. Like...it's hard to explain...You know, they just think they are so great because of their clothes, or the attention they get from others...Rae-Lynn is the funniest. She really thinks she has everybody wrapped around her finger,” he tried to explain. I got it...kinda.
“I think I get what you are saying.”
“Are you sure you want to go to the Dusk?” he asked suddenly.
“Yeah of course. If you are having second thoughts...” I said, not knowing why else he would bring it up.
“Of course not! I just...I have a bad feeling about this,” he said.
“What kind of bad feeling?” I asked, leaning a little bit closer to him without realizing it.
“I'm just afraid that we won't all make it back,” he said, his voice just a little above a whisper.
“I won't let that happen,” I said.
“That's supposed to be my line...I'm over here worrying that we won't all make it back, and here you are, offering to protect everybody,” he tried laughing, but it sounded shaky.
“No, that's not what I meant. If somebody dies, that's on me...and I am not allowing that to happen. I would feel guilty the rest of my life, no matter how old I get,” I said.
“It wouldn't be your fault. Gosh, how many times do I have to explain? We are volunteering! Whatever happens, it happens because we wanna be there too,” he said.
I arched my eyebrows, and he shrugged. Silence filled the air, and I struggled desperately to the words to say. Suddenly, the door opened, and I jumped again. It was some dude I had never seen before. He was tall and lanky, his hair fell into his eyes and was dyed black, and he was wearing a black jacket with gray stripes.
