nerd.

vingt-quatre

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Arielle Evans

Seth presses the gun to my temple, an evil smirk playing on his lips. "Mason!" I shout.

"Don't be like that, darling." Seth says, pinching my chin roughly again. "Mason can't save you. No one can. You're all alone. How sad is that?" He shoots me a fake pout before pressing the cold barrel of the gun to my forehead once more.

"Mason, please!" I scream again. I see a figure in the shadows approaching Seth and I, and I hold my breath, hoping, praying that it is Mason coming to save me. Mason comes out from the shadows with a pocketknife in his hand. I jut my chin towards Seth, unable to use my hands as they are tied behind my back. Mason's eyes are bloodshot, his shirt dirty and ripped at the shoulder. He pulls the gun away from my forehead, much to my relief, but instead of fighting Seth off, he places the knife where the gun used to be.

"No, Mason, please don't do this." I beg. "We love each other, remember?"

Mason hisses, "I don't love you, Arielle. I never have."

I jolt awake from my nightmare with a blood-curdling scream that can be heard for miles. My mother bursts into my room as tears pour down my cheeks from the fright the nightmare has caused me.

"Shh, baby, it's okay." Mom soothes, stroking my hair gently and sitting down next to me. I wrap my arms around her, petrified. "What's wrong?" she asks gently. I shake my head and continue blubbering into her chest. "Why don't you come sleep with me, yeah?" I nod and follow her to her room, where she gently closes the door behind us. I crawl into her massive bed and cuddle up closer to my mother. She wraps her arm around me, and I nuzzle into her shoulder. I finally fall asleep, this time with peaceful dreams.

*

When I wake up, I notice that my mother is no longer in the bed. I neatly make the bed, tucking the corners of the sheets into the bed frame. I tie my hair up in a ponytail and head downstairs, instantly sniffing the heavenly scent of bacon and eggs. Mom smiles at me as I take a seat at the counter, and she hands me a plate. I scoop some scrambled eggs onto my plate as well as a slice of bacon.

"So." she says, propping her elbows up onto the counter. "Want to tell me what your nightmare was about last night?"

"Not really." I reply honestly, and she laughs.

"It can't be that bad, Ari."

"I, um...I had a nightmare that I was attacked by a gang." I lie, quickly making something up without giving it a second thought. 

"Oh, sweetie." Mom seems to buy my lie as she rubs soothing circles on my back, pressing a gently kiss to my forehead. 

"I, uh...I'm gonna go see Marcel and Harry today." I tell her, finally pulling away. 

"Can I come?" she asks. 

"Uh...would you be offended if I wanted to go alone?" I look away from her saddening eyes. 

"No, not a problem at all, honey. Just tell me whenever you want to go." Mom says, and she doesn't say anything else, so I take that as my cue to leave the room. I take a long shower, scrubbing my hands through my thick hair gently and savoring the sweet scent of my shampoo. When I finally come out, the tips of my fingers are wrinkles from the scalding water. I slip on a pair of sweats that say "Angel" down one side, and I slide a pink V-neck shirt over my head. I tie my hair up in a ponytail and jog down the stairs, slipping on my flats when I reach the last one. 

"Mom, I'm ready to go!" I shout. 

"Can you hold on a few minutes? I'm doing something!" she yells back. 

"No, I'll walk." I shout. I hear a faint 'okay', and I exit the house, shutting the door gently behind me. I walk to the Styles' residence slowly as the breeze blows my hair into my face gently and nips at my cheeks. When I finally get there, its' around eleven. Harry has to be awake by now, I think. I rap on the door with my knuckles and wait for someone to open it. 

The door opens, but I can't see who opened it, so I just step inside. Standing behind the door is Harry, wearing sweats that hang low on his hips, his top half bare. I quickly notice that there are no longer any tattoos, just a pair of sculpted abs.

"Harry, what happened to your tattoos?" I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.

"I'm Marcel, Ari." he smirks. 

"Whoa. What happened to your hair, Marc?"  I ask, gesturing towards his curls. 

"My hair looks just like Harry's when it's not gelled." Marcel explains, closing the door behind me. 

"You should wear your hair like that more often." I tease, ruffling his curls. He smiles happily, amused by my teasing, and leads me to the couch. I plop down next to him and rest my feet on the little stool placed in front of the sofa. "So where's Harry?" 

"Jeez, woman, what is with you and asking about Harry?" Marcel teases. 

"I'm just wondering." I nudge his shoulder playfully, raising my arms in surrender. 

"Nah, it's cool. He's just making himself look presentable, as he called it. He'll be downstairs in a few minutes." Marcel explains. 

"Marcel, did you just say 'it's cool'?" I ask in awe. 

"I did indeed." He grins at me proudly. I shake my head in disbelief, chuckling at his awkwardness. Harry comes trotting down the stairs a few minutes later, but he frowns on the last step when the doorbell rings. I look at Marcel, silently asking if he's invited anyone over, and he just shakes his head, slipping on a tank top that was on the side table. Harry jogs over to the door and opens it. I suck in a breath when I see who it is. 

My nightmare has come to life.