His tongue trails from the side of my chin to the corner of my mouth. I'm frozen on spot, barely breathing. When he pulls away, his eyes are the same shimmering silver I had seen the other night. My breathing spikes, and his eyes dart to my mouth. B...
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— 12 —
It's like freshmen year all over again—minus Chase. Thanks to him, I'm spared a lot of the usual wary glances and whispers that're so loud, I'm surprised people actually think I can't hear them. There are still a few idiots who are determined to cause havoc, but Chase quickly shuts them up with extra busywork.
After his class, though, I consider going home. Mother and Cassadee are probably long gone by now, so it's not like I'll have to deal with them, and I'm relatively tired of all the caution even the professors are giving off every time I enter their line of sight. The only reason I stay is in hopes of Calvin showing up. By the time lunch ends, though, it's pretty obvious he's not coming.
Instead of going to my afternoon classes, I take refuge in my hiding place. Not many people know that the school has a basement, and those that do have no idea where the entrance is. Only the janitors have the keys to open the door, anyway, so it wouldn't do them any good.
Too bad my dad taught me how to pick a lock.
Near the end of freshmen year, when I had hit rock bottom, I'd spend the night hidden in between boxes, almost sleeping days away in the murky corners of the place. Now, I sit in the middle of the floor, watching as blood drips from my fingertips to the concrete.
It's funny honestly. You'd think that after everything, I'd simply call Nikki or Whit and tell them things are getting bad again, but with Preston on the hunt, and Leon freaking out over every turn, I don't have it in me to worry them with my little habit. Besides, I'm not the freshmen I was last year—I'm older now, stronger—I should be able to handle something as stupid as this.
But Ryan's expression when he found out my nickname keeps playing in my head, and it hurts. A lot. Outright fear might have made me feel better, but he looked sick, like he was going to puke, like there was nothing worse I could have told him.
"Vixen?"
Before I know it, Chase is standing in front of me, eyes frantic as he scans the surroundings. Behind him, the door hangs open, letting in a shard of light from the hallway.
I grind my teeth and slowly hide my forearm from him, turning it over and gently sliding up my sleeve.
"What's up?" I go for nonchalant.
His eyes flicker over my arm, the exact one that won't seem to stop bleeding, before they meet mine, no hint of anything in them except a concentrated amount of silver flaring around his pupils. The color seems so light in the black basement, it almost looks like it's glowing.
"Where are your friends?" He matches my tone, squatting in front of me.
"Oh, somewhere around the city," I say absently, bored. "They're trying to figure out what Preston is planning, so they skipped today."
"You probably shouldn't tell your professor this," he points out.
"Eh, they'd tell you themselves anyway." I shrug. "What's Gibson going to do? Suspend them?"
