what?” I ask.
“That you’ve changed.”
I’m tempted to flip him off, but that’s not how redemption works. The best way to prove oneself is to give, not take, which means I have to focus on Sebastian’s weaknesses and make them better.
My mind works around what I’ve learned about Sebastian so far—which isn’t much. Since he’s Asher’s friend, getting close to him means circulating in Asher’s orbit.
No, thanks.
But, oh well—if what I have in my mind works then it’s worth a shot.
I raise an eyebrow. “Youʼre failing psychology.”
“What does that have to do with proving you’ve changed?”
“If you fail this semester, the coach will bench you and you might lose your chance to go pro.”
His jaw works. “If there’s a point behind all this, you should reach it now.”
“I will help you nail psychology.”
Not only am I the captain of the cheerleading team, but I’m also a straight-A student. Studying makes way more sense to me than the black and white cheerleading uniform I still haven’t mustered the courage to wear.
“You lost your memory,” he argues.
“I still got a perfect score on the practice test last week.” I lift my shoulder. “I guess genius can’t be wiped away, huh?”
Lucy smiles, shouting, “Hell yeah! She’s an amazing tutor, by the way. She helped me ace Debate the other day.”
“Thank you.” I face Sebastian. “So what’s it gonna be? My offer has an expiration date in about…” I stare at my watch. “Ten seconds. Nine, eight, seven—”
“Fine. Jesus, it’s like you had a personality transplant.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Lucy, Sebastian, and I part ways inside since we have different classes.
I say good morning to anyone who greets me, and much to my dismay, it still shocks some students, as if something holy has landed in town.
My next class is Sociology. When I walk in, no one is inside. It’s only empty chairs and a screen. I turn around, searching for any human presence.
Was it canceled?
I really need to start checking the college’s website more frequently.
“Is anyone here?” When no one replies, I head for the exit.
The door hisses shut in my face. I try the intercom, but there’s no response.
What the hell?
I grip the handle and pull. Nothing. It’s like it’s made of steel.
“Come on, open—”
The lights go out. The entire room gets swallowed in punishing darkness.
My heartbeat picks up as I lose an essential sense—sight.
“Hello?” I hate how my voice trembles on the word. “This isn’t funny.”
I thrust my hand into my bag, fishing for my phone.
A bang sounds on the wall.
I flinch and my phone drops to the ground. The unmistakable crack of the screen echoes in the air.
“Shit.” I crouch, my hands feeling around blindly.
Light bursts into the projector like an old movie. It shines onto the opposite wall.
I gasp, freezing in my crouched position.
Black words in a bloody font flash on the white walls. They pass so fast as if planning to give me epilepsy. I’m about to close my eyes when the words start registering.
I. Am. Coming. For. You. I. Know. What. You. Did. Blood. On. Your. Hands. Murderer. Murderer. MURDERER.
I cover my mouth with both of my hands as the words repeat on a loop.
No.
This is some sort of a sick joke.
I stumble backward, my heel catching on the ground. I nearly fall, but I pull myself together and slam my palms on the door.
“Help!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Someone help!”
I hit the door harder and faster until my palms sting and tears well in my eyes.
A ping sounds from near the projector.
I jerk, my hands turning sweaty. Perspiration slides down my temples and my neck and all the way underneath my clothes.
The lights continue flashing and flashing and fucking flashing.
I place both hands on my ears and slide to the floor.
“No, Mommy, no…don’t go…” A sob tears from my throat. “Mom…Rei…”
Darkness grips me by the throat before they can come for me.
There’s nothing more beautiful than seeing her fall.
You know that moment when human beings lose all hope? When doors slam in their face and they just…drop?
That’s what Reina does. Even her fall is graceful. She fought, I give her that. She screamed and wailed. She cried and kicked.
But no amount of tears will get her out of my mind.
She’s already trapped. She’s already done for.
I stand above her unmoving body. She fainted on the ground, eyes screwed shut and some of her mascara smearing over her pale cheeks. Both her hands still cover her ears as if she can stop the