Under a Silent Moon

37

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Nightmare

LANA

As soon as Lizzy leads Zack away, I know I'm in trouble. The classmates that surround me can't stand me. Zack was my only friend here, and now everyone's glancing at each other like they just committed a murder and don't know what to do with the body.

The television flickers brightly in the darkness of the room like a strobe light. The faces of my former tormentors are illuminated by a sitcom that's only on for background noise. Jordan shuffles a deck of cards while Erin and Andrea whisper-laugh about something in the corner. From my peripherals, I see Amelia pawing over Grayson on the opposite end of the couch. She can barely hold her head up, she's so intoxicated. But he isn't paying her any mind. He's looking at me.

I have to get out of here. I can't stand Grayson's intense stare and the hateful glare of the girls that are only tolerating me because Zack told them to.

"Where's your bathroom?" I ask Grayson, avoiding eye contact.

"Up the stairs, to the right."

When I push through the door and flip the lightswitch on, I let out a breath that I hadn't realized I was holding in. I'm thankful for the air conditioning that switches on and blows a steady stream of cool air into the small room. I relish in the feeling of my lungs expanding as I suck in deep breaths, trying to calm my frazzled nerves.

I pull my phone out of my back pocket and shoot Zack a text: When are you coming back?

I keep my eyes glued to the screen, praying for a quick response from him. But five minutes trudge by and nothing arrives. He's probably preoccupied listening to Lizzy cry and beg for his forgiveness. My stomach lurches at the thought. Clutching my phone tightly in irritation, I return it to my pocket.

I don't really have to pee, so I splash some water on my face, lightly dab a fuzzy towel to my skin, and open the door to find Grayson's lean physique towering over me. He's eyeing me in the same way that Zack did during the blood incident, but I know Grayson's no vampire. Fangs or not, my internal alarm sounds at the sight of a threat.

How long has he been out here?

"Hey," I say. It's almost a whisper. He cocks his head slightly to the side and I can tell he isn't here for a friendly conversation.

"Why are you with Zack?" he asks, not making any motion to step out of my way. His eyes scan me in a way that makes me skin crawl. He's so close to me I can smell his aftershave, an uncanny scent that takes me back to the time he shoved me into a locker.

I'm a little caught off guard by his inquisition, so I just say, "Uhhh" while scrambling for a response that will satisfy him.

As I stand there, frozen, he lifts a hand and uses a thumb to caress my cheek. When he takes a step forward, I take a step back.

"What are you doing?" I ask, heart pounding so loud I can barely hear his reply.

"Zack always gets what he wants. Now it's my turn to get what I want."

I attempt to side-step him but he pins me against the wall. With his left hand, he pulls the door shut and locks it.

"Grayson," I say as he begins to kiss the nape of my neck. "Gray, you don't have to do this."

"I know," he says simply as his hands begin to wander.

I push hard against his chest but he doesn't budge. Push, push, push, with all my might.

"Please," I beg, trying to duck under his arm to escape this nightmare. "You don't want to do this." A large hand clamps over my mouth as my pleading quickly transforms into hysterics.

"Yes, I do," he tells me, pressing his body against mine. I can't move. I can't breathe. Fingers entwine my hair, firmly grasp it, and pull back sharply. My head snaps up so fast I fear my neck might break. His free hand finds the button of my jeans.

I close my eyes.