Authors: Alessa James
“I’m fine. Really. I do this all the time—break down in parking lots and cry over nothing,” I muttered.
Get a grip, Aven
! I commanded myself. I was smarter than this. I
knew
that my life wasn’t going to suddenly morph into a quirky teenage movie, complete with indie soundtrack and happy ending with the really hot guy. At best, Will thought of me as a potential friend; at worst, he thought I was the slightly psycho chick in his AP U.S. History class.
Will stared down at me for an endless moment, and I stopped crying. Then my eyes widened and I stared up at him as he leaned down very slowly until his forehead was within millimeters of mine.
“Aven,” he breathed. “I am trying very hard to be good, as good as I know how, but you are making it exceptionally difficult.”
He closed his eyes for a moment.
“
H-how
am I making it difficult?” I whispered shakily, truly confused by the conversation’s turn.
Again, I felt a spike of fear, like I had to get away from him
now
. What was it about him that pulled me in at the same time that something deep inside me told me to run? I tried to step back before I did or said something crazy. But I was paralyzed. His gloved hands had rooted me into place. I tried twisting away from his iron grip and panicked when I couldn’t.
Suddenly Will released me, only to have to steady me just before I fell backwards into the bushes lining the parking lot. He let go of my arm again when he seemed sure I wasn’t going to trip over my own feet or pass out. The first bell rang in the distance.
“Go to class,” he said quietly.
I nodded and turned, still dazed, and began making my way toward school. My head was still spinning when I reached the edge of the first building, so I stopped and leaned against the cold brick face. I was sure Will had disappeared by then, but I didn’t look to make sure. I stayed where I was for several minutes, trying to catch my breath and think about something other than Will Kincaid. When the second bell rang, I hurried toward study hall, smiling weakly at the possibility that maybe Lizzie and Sean would hit it off. I hoped so, anyway. I needed a happy ending, even if it was someone else’s. When I reached class, Lizzie waved from her seat.
“Hey!” she called.
“So, you feel like going off campus tomorrow for lunch? I asked Sean, and he’s in,” I said as I sat down next to her.
Lizzie’s eyes brightened, and she squeaked in excitement. When Ms. Fielding looked up from her desk, we turned forward in our seats. Pulling out my math homework, I began to review the problems. After a minute, I shifted in my seat and leaned toward Lizzie.
“You want to meet at Sean’s locker tomorrow?” I asked quietly.
She nodded eagerly, and for the rest of the period, I forced myself to concentrate on math, pushing away any thoughts of Will. When the bell rang, I told Lizzie where Sean’s locker was, even though I suspected she already knew.
In Journalism, I found Sean sitting at a desk in the corner. Unlike most of my other teachers, Mr. Blake had the desks pushed together in a makeshift newsroom style, and he didn’t bother to keep track of where people sat. I took the chair next to Sean and playfully put my head on his shoulder.
“Are you mad?”
Sean smirked at me.
“No, but I am starting to wonder if you’ve lost it.”
I winced. Sean wasn’t that far from the truth.
“So?” Sean prodded. “What’s with you and the new guy?”
“I wish I knew,” I exhaled.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. It’s nothing.”
The problem was that I was still trying to convince myself of that, because I knew better than to hope for things that were outside the realm of reality.
“Are you guys hooking up or something?” Sean asked incredulously.
He laughed at my stunned expression.
“Far from it. We’re friends, I guess.”
“You and me,
we’re
friends,” Sean said. “You and that guy? No.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“Where were you at lunch today? I looked for you at the stairs.”
I shrugged and tried to look casual. It didn’t work.
“Will took me to a sandwich place in Old Town.”
Sean stared.
“
What
?” I cried. “I go to lunch with you all the time.”
“Yeah, ’cause we’re friends.
Friends
,” he said, drawing the word out like I was stupid.
“Shut up, Sean!”
“Hey, I’ve got no problem if you’ve got a thing for him. Just be careful. I’ll have to beat him up if he hurts you.”
Sean flexed his biceps, but the idea of him beating up anyone—especially Will—was hilarious.
“Thanks, I think. But I can take care of myself.”
Then an image of Scott Adams and his wrecked face flashed in my head, and I flinched.
“What are you guys doing your paper on?” Sean asked before turning back to a cartoon he was working on for the op-ed page.
We spent the rest of class talking about our papers and the story I was working on for Mr. Blake. At the end of class, I begged for a ride home, and I could just tell Sean was about to make another crack about Will. Something in my expression must have told him it wasn’t a good idea, because he stopped short and nodded.
On the way to his car, Sean quizzed me about Lizzie, and I took his curiosity as a good sign. The drive to my house seemed to take forever, which I realized was a sure sign I was getting used to Will’s disregard for speed limits. Snorting as he pulled up in front of my house, Sean pointed meaningfully at my house. Wondering what was so funny, I turned, waiting for the punch line. My stomach pitched. Will was sitting on my front steps, watching us.
“This
isn’t
funny, Sean,” I said, glowering at him.
“
Aven’s got a boyfriend
,” Sean said in singsong.
I turned toward the house, aghast, even though the windows were rolled up. It didn’t help my paranoia that Will was smiling like he had heard Sean.
“More like a stalker,” I muttered under my breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the ride. You know I’ll owe you a million when I get my license—and maybe a car to go with it.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll believe it when I see it. Now get out of my car and go see what your boyfriend wants,” Sean said, gesturing dramatically.
I growled at him before extricating myself from the passenger seat. When I looked back at him, Sean smiled a goofy smile. I was grateful when he pulled away from the curb. Walking toward where Will was sitting, I felt my eyes stinging and my cheeks burning. The last thing I needed was to make a fool of myself. Again. I concentrated on maintaining some kind of composure, as impossible as that seemed around him.
“What do you want?” I asked, trying to maintain an indifferent tone.
Suddenly, standing in front of him, I knew with absolute clarity that it was safer if I stayed away from Will Kincaid. I also knew that I couldn’t accomplish this simple task if I so much as looked at him. Because every time I looked into his eyes it felt like I was falling.
As I looked at him, the answer became clear. Tomorrow I would to go to Mr. Anderson before school to ask that I be allowed to write the term paper on my own. That, and I would ask for a seat change. I couldn’t trust myself around Will for a second longer. He was the only person I had ever met who made me feel completely out of control. I didn’t know what it was about him, but it was dangerous. I looked down as I passed him wordlessly, knowing I would lose my resolve if he looked at me. I rummaged in my bag for house keys, not caring if I seemed like a bitch.
“Can we talk?” he asked quietly from behind me.
“No.”
I scowled when my voice shook.
“Why?”
“Because I’m afraid of you,” I blurted, turning to face him.
I sucked in a breath, shocked by what had just come out of my mouth. More accurately, I was afraid of myself when I was around him. Looking up, I saw that Will was standing closer than I expected, and I was surprised to see a pained look flash in his eyes.
“I would never intentionally hurt you.”
I flinched at the word
intentionally
. Our conversation had taken a strange turn—and it only confirmed that my first instinct was the right one. I knew now that I
should
be afraid of Will Kincaid, even if I didn’t know why. That still didn’t explain, though, why he had helped me.
“Why did you save me the night of the party?” I asked, not meeting his gaze.
The
how
part of him saving me, I realized, was something I might never understand. Will remained silent for several seconds, seeming to consider very carefully before answering.
“Because it was the right thing to do.”
I nodded, unnerved by the fact that I was disappointed in his answer. What had I expected? A confession of his nefarious plan—to
what
? Here I was treating him like some kind of criminal, and all this guy had done is help me. I was being crazy, and that was what had me worried. It was like he overwhelmed my emotions, and I didn’t like that.
“I have to go walk Darcy.”
As though he had heard his name, Darcy yipped from inside the house. I started walking toward the front door.
“What would you say if I told you that I have been following you?” Will asked.
The question was so unexpected that I stopped and turned around. His face betrayed a flicker of vulnerability, and suddenly I was so curious that I forgot to be afraid.
“
Why
?” I gasped.
“There are some things you should know. I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind.”
I nodded before opening the door and walking into the house. As I put my bag on the couch, Darcy raced past me to greet Will.
“Traitor,” I sniffed as I followed him.
Joining Will at the steps, I hooked Darcy’s leash on his collar, and we walked in the direction of the park. The air was damp and cool, but it was only misting. Will still hadn’t spoken, so I just waited quietly for whatever he was going to say. Finally he took in a deep breath and then began to speak.
“I never thought I would come back here, but it appears my past has come back to haunt me—and I had no choice but to return.”
My brow furrowed.
“Then you
did
live here before?”
Will nodded carefully.
“And what do you mean
you had no choice
?” I asked, feeling a chill.
“There’s someone looking for me.”
“Someone?” I echoed.
“A very dangerous individual.”
I looked at Will to see if this was some kind of joke, but his features remained perfectly serious.
“Are you in witness protection or something?” I swallowed.
Is
that
the explanation for Will’s strange behavior?
I wondered.
“Not quite.”
We had reached the park, and I walked to the bench, setting down my jacket to keep my jeans dry. Will sat next to me with a discreet distance separating us. He glanced in my direction.
“I apologize if I’m frightening you. I never meant for that, either,” he continued. “So many things I never accounted for,” he muttered more to himself than me.
I slowed my breathing and wondered if he could sense the prickle of anxiety that coursed through my veins. Suddenly Will’s unwillingness to answer any of my questions made more sense.
“Why did you come back here if it isn’t safe?”
“I received … a message that the individual looking for me had returned here. I followed, and that’s when I noticed you,” he said, his tone again betraying regret.
Before I could ask what he meant by
noticing
me, he continued, his eyes far away.
“When I first saw you, I thought it was coincidence at first. Then I realized I was being invited to play a game.”
I blinked, trying to digest Will’s meaning.
“A
game
? What do you mean?”
“You, Aven.
You’re
the game.”
I smiled weakly.
“You’re joking, right?”
Will looked away.
“No. Someone’s been watching you, stalking you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You haven’t had any strange feelings, even unexplainable ones … like someone was following you?” Will asked with a serious expression.
I frowned.
“You mean Scott Adams, the psycho from the party?”
Will’s knuckles cracked, and his eyes darkened. Finally, he shook his head.
“Not someone from school. A stranger.”
“A-after Mr. Anderson’s class, the day before you came to school, I had a funny feeling.” My stomach pitched as I remembered a man standing across the street in the pouring rain. “And when I went to lunch with Sean … I saw a man. It almost seemed like he was watching me. Crazy, huh?”