I didn’t want to sit down, but maybe he would tell me how serious it was. Or tell me something that would make sense of why.
I sat down and pulled the covers tighter.
He just stared at me. He then shook his head. “You are not ready, Bear. I wish you were.”
“How do you know?”
“Because...” Silence lingered. “I know. When you are ready, I promise you I will tell you everything. Trust me, please?”
My lower lip vibrated, and Dad pulled me into his chest.
“Don’t overthink. Just know that I love you, and I would let nothing happen to you. I promise.” His lips pressed hard on top of my head.
I didn’t like what left his mouth. It sounded like my dad did this because of me. The apple seemed not to have fallen too far from the tree, as my paranoia would sink its teeth into that one.
“Trust me,” Dad said again. He knew I was trying to decipher what he said already.
I nodded, and the hug broke. A part of me wanted to yell more, demanding the reasons. But every single time Dad told me I wasn’t ready yet, I wondered if there was an explanation for any of this. What if he was just paranoid?
He kissed me on the head and walked to my door. I watched him leave and fell back down on my bed.
The dream was already vague and not as vivid as ten minutes ago.
I tried not to analyze this one, but I couldn’t stop wondering why Blake was in my dream. Did he seriously make such a big impression on me today?
I doubted I would see him tomorrow, but to be safe, I would avoid the cafeteria.
A part of him was dangerous to me. That was what the glowing red eyes meant. It was a warning. He was so damn beautiful, and I couldn’t get sucked in. It would break me in the end.
* * *
Dad had a Skype meeting, and I had to take the school’s transportation this morning. I hated the school bus.
The electronic doors opened as I climbed the steps leading up to the bus—a wet aisle with snow blotches melting, separated rows of dull gray seats.
As I slid-walk past the shouting students, my feet skidded on the black rubber down the aisle, clinging onto the backrests to get to an open seat. All the windows were up because of the gloomy weather outside. There was no fresh air, only the scent of mildew, mud, and various fragrances from body sprays overpowered my nostrils.
The steady rumble of the bus moving forward made me almost trip over my own feet, but I grabbed the backrest of the thinly padded seats to keep my balance and swung myself down onto the open seat.
The groan of the escalating noise vibrated against my soles as the bus picked up speed. I laid my head against the cold metal bus wall.
The weather in Falmouth was horrible. Gray skies and clouds rumbled slightly as a sheet of rain fell on dirty snow, soaking everything. The drizzle slid down the window next to the seat in front of me, and I prayed it would not start snowing again. In less than fifteen minutes, we pulled in front of the school, and everyone got out.
The rain still drizzled down on all of us. The cold wetness and the breeze in the air made me shiver. I walked faster toward the school entrance as my skin became wet and clammy. My clothes were slightly damp, as well as my beanie.
I kept my head down as I entered the building.
Rows and rows of dented and scraped red lockers lined the walls on both sides between the classroom doors. The janitor was mopping all the wetness and the snow as I walked closer to the trophy case so as not to mess up his clean floor. Their football, ice hockey, and basketball teams were among the best in Maine.
Shoes squeaked against the scuffed floors as students rushed to get to their lockers and destination before the bell rang.
The sound of lockers slamming and chatter filling the hallways mixed with the scent of teenage, which was a mixture of cigarettes and perfume, murdered my ears and overpowered my nostrils—not my favorite scent combination, to be honest.
Loud laughter and shouting echoed through the hallway while some students typed text messages on their phones.
I finally reached my locker and turned the combination of my lock. I opened the dented door, and wet stickiness exploded in my face. Everything felt on fire while I froze. My heart pounded faster as images of Blake sitting at my table during lunch flashed through my mind.
The potent smell of paint stung my nostrils. My worst fear came true.
