Page 39 of Obsession

I narrowed my eyes and felt my cheeks boil with anger as I prepared to give him a biting reply, but I was interrupted by the buzzing of the phone in my pocket. I was shocked that it had stayed there after our brawl. I took it out and sighed as the word “Dad” flashed on the display.

“Yes, Dad,” I answered, trying to appear calm.

“Katherine, where are you?” He sounded upset and worried.

Great.

“Dad, calm down, I’m with…. some friends.”

“What kind of friends? The principal just called and said you skipped school.”

“I didn’t skip school,” I let out another weary sigh, “I felt sick, and I left, she made me join the cheerleading squad.”

“She told me about it, and I think that’s a good thing. You need more activities. Stop giving up your passions because of the past.”

The phone nearly shattered in my hand. Harris watched me intently, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“We’ll talk about this at home, okay?” I said through clenched teeth.

I wasn’t about to talk about it in front of Harris, who at least wasn’t looking at me like a crazy person anymore.

“Now,” my father insisted, “you come home right now. You’re grounded!”

“What?!” I fumed.

“It’s your second day of school and you’re already in trouble.”

I let out an angry breath and gave Harris a murderous look. It was all his fault.

“Ten minutes, Katherine. I’m serious!”

“Fine!”

I hung up and shoved the phone back into my pants.

“This is all your fault,” I blamed Harris and scowled at him.

“My fault?!” he repeated in astonishment. “If I hadn’t gotten you out of there, you would have left in an ambulance and ended up in rehab for another two months.”

He turned his back to me, opened a door I hadn’t even noticed, and my jaw dropped behind him.

“Oh, you, the great savior,” I mocked him, gesturing dramatically, “I assume you’re a big user since you know so much.”

“You catch on fast.”

My insult had no effect on him. He seemed bored by my attacks, as if he’d finally had enough of our silly games. After I stepped through the door, I was astonished to see a room about one hundred and sixty feet long. I walked behind him and stepped onto a metal platform.

So that’s where the staircase was.

My mouth fell open in amazement as I saw what lay below us. There were the cars I knew, their cars, and some others I’d never seen before. The interior was huge, the walls covered in graffiti. On the left, I noticed a drawing of a skull holding a smoking bullet between its teeth, surrounded by dozens of guns of various sizes and bloodstained knives.

Impressive and terrifying at the same time. It resembled a demonic altar if there was such a thing.

The rest of the drawings consisted of cars, various video game characters, motorcycles, and monsters. To the right, near the garage door, was a desk similar to the one in Harris’ room, only much more cluttered with PCs and gadgets. I counted six monitors strategically arranged in a grid system, while on the wall next to it was a large, probably 80-inch, TV.

Three people sat at a table in the middle of the room, smiling and looking up at us. I already knew them: Spikey, the blond guy who had approached me the other day, a beautiful girl who reminded me of blueberries because she was almost completely purple, and a red-haired guy who I had seen around Harris before and had opened the car door for him today.

I was sure Harris had said their names, but I’d been too out of it to remember any of them.

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