“Well…” I wanted to smack myself for being such a terrible liar. I struggled to think of an excuse—any excuse I could give. “What does it even matter to you, anyway?” I snapped.  “I mean, it’s not like you really care.”

“Yeah, good point.” He shoved the book he was holding at me. “You left this in the library by the way.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at the book, perplexed because I couldn’t remember taking my book out of my bag while I was in the library.

“This is the part where you say thanks,” he said arrogantly

I’d have loved to slap the arrogance right off of his pretty little face, but I didn’t. I snatched the book from his hand. “Thanks.”

He pressed his lips together and gave a quick glance behind me. “Well…drive carefully.”

I gave him a funny look. Drive carefully? What was that suppose to mean? Well, I know what it means in the literal sense but…I gaped at him as he sauntered away, feeling, once again, as lost ever.

And after he’d vanished through the fog, I ran like hell to find my car.

Chapter 6

The drive home was a blur of shapes and colors. I barely saw anything. I couldn’t pay attention. My mind was still back in the parking lot where I’d thought I’d seen the lights.

I’d locked my car doors. My hands were sweating disgustingly as I grasped the steering wheel tightly. I was edgy and jumpy and constantly checking in the rearview mirror for any trace of yellow lights in the shape of eyes.

I wasn’t exactly sure what I’d seen in the foggy parking lot, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. If my nightmares had crossed over into real-life, then I was going to have to keep myself on high alert.

I parked my car in the driveway, jumped out, and dashed inside the house, dead bolting the door behind me. I could hear the TV humming in the living room. Marco and Sophia were home, which made me feel slightly better. I went up to my room and locked my door. Then I sank to the floor.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.  It had to be a dream. How could it not be?  To find out if I was dreaming or not, I did the only thing I could think. I pinched my arm hard. It stung badly, and a pink welt formed on my skin.

Well, that was a great idea.

I sighed, getting to my feet. I had two options here and neither one of them sounded appealing. The first, and my least favorite, wait it out. See what happens. The second option I wasn’t too fond of either. Tell Marco and Sophia. This meant risking looking like a total nut job if they didn’t believe. But getting killed seemed worse. So with a million knots tying their way into my stomach, I headed downstairs.

Okay, so you know that feeling you get when you walk into a room and the air feels thick and heavy and you know you were just being talked about? Well, that’s what happened when I found Marco and Sophia, huddled together at the kitchen table, talking quietly. I instantly got the impression they were talking about me. And by the horrified expressions on their faces when they saw me, I assumed my impression was right on.

Sophia leaned back in the chair and smoothed out her grey pencil skirt. “Do you need something?”

I eyed her over carefully. “I’m not sure.” I’d been so determined not to lose my nerve and tell them what was going on. But now, something felt off.  My insides were screaming at me to keep my mouth shut.

Marco swiped a magazine up from the table and fumbled to open it, mumbling incoherently underneath his breath.

“Well, if you don’t need anything…” Sophia drifted out of her chair and roamed over to cupboards.

I stood in the doorway, watching her closely as she opened a drawer, pulled out a pan, and fill it with water. Then she moved over to the pantry, grabbed a can of tomato sauce, and fought to get the lid off.

I glanced at the clock: 4:30. A little too early to be making dinner, don’t you think?  Yet there she was, making dinner. I turned my attention to Marco. He shook the magazine out like it was a newspaper, then turned his back to me.

What in the world had I been thinking when I’d decided to come down here? I should have known better than to believe I could talk to them. I didn’t even know them. Not really. I mean for all I knew, the real reason I’d been living with them for the last seventeen years was because they’d kidnapped me. Yeah, I really didn’t think that was true or anything, but until I could one-hundred percent prove it wasn’t true, I wasn’t going to disregard the theory.

The next day at school, I felt like a walking zombie. I’d slept like crap the night before, because of my nightmares, and I had to check under my bed just to make sure there weren’t any real-life cloaked monsters hiding out. Even though the coast was clear, I hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. Of course, I had no problem falling asleep during biology. When the bell rang, it woke me up, and scared the crap out of me, causing me to leap from my seat and bang my knee on the desk. Not to mention, I’d had my cheek resting on my arm, right where my studded bracelet was fastened, so now there was a sequence of dots indented into the side of my face. Which in no way made me look like a bigger dork, let me tell you. Add the humiliation factor with the giant bruise on my knee, and I felt awesome.

I know, I know. I sounded very whiny. But I was having a very bad day so cut me some slack, would you?

My next stop was astronomy. I arrived early and the classroom was empty. The emptiness immediately made me feel uneasy. Goose bumps sprouted all over my skin as I hung my messenger bag over the back of the chair and sat down.  God, I was so tired. I needed a nap.

As soon as the first person entered, I rested my head on the table and let my eyelids slip shut. But moments later, a warm tingly sensation shot up my arms and reverberated down my back.

“Tired?” Alex remarked. I heard a chair slide out and then something landed on the table not too far from my head. His backpack, I assumed.

I didn’t say anything. Nor did I look at him. I just wasn’t in the mood to deal with him.

He didn’t say anything else to me, and I didn’t raise my head up until class had started. That’s when I realized Aislin’s chair was vacant.

“She’s not here today,” he said, noticing the direction of my gaze. He was wearing a black shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He looked good. He always looked good. Too bad he was such a jerk. “She has the flu.”

“Oh.” I frowned. So it was just him and me? Well, today ought to be fun. About as fun as watching a two hour special on fungi growth (And yeah, I’ve actually had to do that before). Aislin acted as our mediator. With her gone, I could only imagine how well the next forty-five minutes was going to go. I take that back. I actually could since we’d been forced to work together once before. And need I remind you how well that went—with me and Alex getting lectured by Mr. Sterling.

“You don’t need to look so upset about it.” A smirk threatened at his lips. “I’m not that bad to be around, am I?”

Afraid of what might come out of my mouth, I kept it shut.

Ten minutes into class, Mr. Sterling received a phone call. After he hung up, he made an announcement that there was something urgent that needed his attention, and he was going to drop off the class at the library to get a head start on our projects.

I considered ditching. Going home and taking a nap. But I couldn’t muster up enough courage to go through with it. Mark Scholy and Dean Edwards did. They ducked out as soon as Mrs. Bakerly stepped away from her desk. But they very rarely showed up for class as it was. And they didn’t have to worry about a group of freaky yellow-eyed monsters showing up to kill them.

“So what do you want to work on first?” Alex asked me after we’d picked out a table to drop off our things at.