Page 7 of Wicked Dreams

If only that wasn’t completely normal.

I am in my natural habitat as a complete and utter wallflower.

The clock ticks loudly on the wall, and I face Caleb.

He’s examining me again.

“Well?” The word comes out rougher than I wanted, but I don’t take it back. I lift my chin, silently daring him to say whatever’s on his mind.

The corner of his lip twitches. He suddenly tugs on the papers in my hand, and the slip Ms. Ames gave me comes loose. Not bothering to even read it, he strides out of the room without looking back.

I hurry to follow, practically jogging after his quick steps. When we’re out of sight of the office, he pivots toward me.

His sudden closeness has me taking a step back. My shoulder blades hit the lockers.

“Why did you come back, Margo?”

I frown. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

What’s his problem?

He laughs, leaning down. He doesn’t touch me, though. He seems to keep himself perfectly under control, his gaze hardening by the second.

His expression could stop my heart if he wanted.

“You don’t stand a chance,” he whispers.

I move to edge around him, and his hands slam into the lockers on either side of me. I try not to jump, but I’ve never been one for violence. It doesn’t sit well with me, especially as his smile turns into a sneer.

I’m caged in with nowhere to go.

“Margo Wolfe,” he says in my ear. “Haven’t you heard? I’m the king now.”

He walks away, and I stay frozen against the lockers for a minute. My brain wants to catch up to the present, but all I can picture is the boy I once knew.

This version of him is so far removed, I’m not sure how we got here.

Instead of a charming, sweet friend, I’m left staring at the back of a monster.

One who seems to have scented my blood in the water.

Chapter 2

Margo

Late. Very, very late.

When I eventually find the correct classroom on the second floor of the huge school, the teacher stops mid-sentence and glares at me.

“Sorry.” I pass her the pink paper from the guidance counselor that explains who I am. I found it on the floor after Caleb disappeared.

The teacher, Mrs. Stonewater, scans the note and exhales. “We have a new student. Margo Wolfe.”

Someone gasps. I bite my lip as chatter immediately rises around us. The teacher lifts her eyes from the note to look pointedly around the room, and they lapse back into silence.

“Take a seat,” she says to me.

My gaze catches on Caleb—the bastardleftme, and it took me too long to figure out where the hell I was going—and the boys around him. There’s an open seat directly in front of Caleb or all the way against the windows. I start to move to the far one, but someone throws their bag on it.

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