Page 35 of Sweet Nightmare

And now to find out that my mom seems to think this is the best we can do… It’s mind-blowing.

Totally and completely soul-destroying.

How can I be the only one who sees that? And how can I be the only one who wants to do something about it?

Outside, a huge crack of lightning splits the sky. Instinctively, I jump back, but as I do, I see a flash on the path at the very edge of the gym. I lean forward, trying to see it again. But the darkness is back despite the fact that it’s barely mid-afternoon, and I can’t get a clear look at anything that’s much beyond the borders of the quad in front of the building.

Still, I strain my eyes trying to get another glimpse of whatever it is I saw. Because, storm or not, what I caught sight of looked an awful lot like a person.

But who would voluntarily be out in this mess right now—especially since all the other students should be in class? And where could they possibly be going?

I watch the area for several more seconds, willing myself to see another flash of…something. But the rain and the gray have made everything too muddled. I give up, start to turn away, but as I do, another flash of lightning illuminates the sky as thunder booms at practically the same second, and I catch another look at what is, indeed, a person.

A very tall, very broad, very shirtless person, with dark hair plastered to his neck and bold, black tattoos climbing up his back.

Jude.

What the actual hell?

Where could he possibly be going, still shirtless, and covered in still-healing burns?

And what could he possibly have to do that is so important it can’t wait for this storm to be over?

He should be in class right now. Or, if he’s ditching, he should at least be heading back to the dorm to get a shirt and jacket instead of jogging, half naked, toward a huge thicket of trees in the middle of a violent rainstorm.

What if lightning strikes one of the trees and a branch falls on him?

Or worse, what if lightning strikes him?

Not that I care, because I don’t.

But still, sneaking off into the woods during a storm this wild is not normal behavior. He’s obviously up to something, and whatever that something is, I’m betting it’s not good.

A quick glance at my phone tells me I’ve got about forty minutes before class ends. If I hustle, I can probably get away with talking Fitzhugh into a detention that doesn’t involve getting bitten by anything…

But I’m barely halfway down the stairs when my mother’s voice comes over the PA. “Attention, students. Due to the storm, all after-school activities will be canceled for this afternoon. Please report directly to the dorms after the final bell. I repeat, all after-school activities will be canceled for today, and dinner will be served in the dorm common areas instead of the cafeteria. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Dinner at the dorms? I can count on one hand the number of times she’s ordered that in my entire life. Just how bad is this storm supposed to get? And how fast?

I take the last of the stairs two at a time, then glance out a window as soon as I’m in the hallway. As luck would have it, lightning chooses that moment to illuminate the sky, but it doesn’t matter. Jude is already gone.

Damn it.

I pull out my phone and swipe open the weather app. And shit. Just…shit.

It looks like the tropical depression we’ve been watching has moved straight through tropical storm into hurricane. Because of course it has.

And Jude is out in it.

One part of me says that he’ll be fine. Surely Jude won’t actually stay out in this mess for any length of time. And if he does, well…that’s on him.

But the logical part of me is screaming that something is off. That he’s out there doing something he shouldn’t be. And that whatever it is just might get him killed.

Let it go, I tell myself. He’s made it very clear that nothing about him is your business. Let him go.

I try. I really do. But then I think about that Keats poem, and I realize I wasn’t just mad at Keats for ghosting Fanny but at Fanny for letting it happen. I realize I’m mad at her because she didn’t fight for what was important to her.

This has nothing to do with love.

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