Page 82 of Ominous: Part 1
Or maybe I’m projecting my own thoughts onto him.
Slowly, he turns his head to face her, and I stare at his onyx hair, ruffled, like he slept on it wet. I want to pull it.
I ignore whatever look he’s throwing his neighbor’s way and text him back, telling him nothing of Sebastian.
Me: I woke up early to work out. I’m just tired.
I’m not, surprisingly. I’ve found it increasingly difficult to get any sleep lately, my brain hopped up on thoughts of Eli. But I’ve taken my heart pills a few times, to help.
I didn’t see Eli this morning until he sank into his seat, eyes on me as he did. Now, I watch him turn his attention from the girl who kicked him, to his phone, and I’m thinking of last night all over again while Ms. Romano starts writing out various phrases with the word “murder” in them.
Eli: After last night, you should have rested.
My heart thumps too fast in my chest, my fingers slippery around my phone as I stare at my screen, hot with embarrassment and something else, too, and when Ms. Romano says my name, I startle, the phone clattering to the floor a second later.
Shit.
I don’t want to look up, because I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, the room eerily silent, sun streaming in through the wall of windows to my right, no doubt illuminating the splash of red on my cheeks.
But before I have to reach for my phone, or answer my teacher who no doubt saw me on it, Eli clears his throat and asks, “I hate to interrupt, but why are we learning aboutmurdertoday, Ms. Romano?”
I look up, leaving my phone at my feet, and see every head slowly swivel to Eli, then Ms. Romano, who has her hands on her hips and probably despite her best effort not to, is fighting a smile as she stares at him.
Jealousy pricks under my skin, even though I know he was doing me a favor. Still, I spend the rest of class both fantasizing about ripping my favorite teacher’s nails off and trying to figure out when I became so violent inside my head.
He waits for me.
I feel Ms. Romano’s eyes on us, but this time, she doesn’t say anything. A class period spent conjugating “to murder” with teenagers has made her quieter than usual, but no less hawk-eyed.
With fingers shaky from adrenaline, I zip up my bag and toss it over my shoulder, sweeping the single braid I put my hair in this morning out of the way as I thread my other arm through my backpack strap, too.
When I look up, my eyes automatically connect with Eli’s, like we’re magnetized.
He’s half-sitting on his desk again, so casual, hands in his pockets as he smiles at me, and for a moment, he just looks… innocent. It does something to my heart, seeing him that way, like I want to protecthimfrom the world. Like maybe I’m the corrupt one in this relationship.
Relationship.
I blink, slashing through my delusion. That isn’t what this is.We’re just friends.
And together, asfriends,we head toward the door.
“I don’t think you got enough sleep last night,” he says, and I hear the innuendo in his words. “What kept you up?” He feigns blamelessness, and I have to laugh, shaking my head as the familiar blush fans across my face in pinpricks of warmth. I’ve learned, over the course of years, to ignore it.
“Shut up,” I say under my breath, smiling as we walk out into the hallway, then immediately, hearing his silence, the way he stops short beside me, my entire body tingles with nerves and my smile slips. I look up, my eyes wide as I meet his, and I can only think to say,“Oh.”
His teeth flash as he grins, his brows lifted.“Ohis right.” His words are low, and I glance at his hands, but they’re still in his pockets. And before I can think through if I’m disappointed or relieved at that, my thoughts feverish, I realize he’s no longer looking at me.
He’s focused on something behind me.
I frown, turning to follow his gaze.
Then I freeze, tightening my fingers around the straps of my bag, all thoughts of Eli hurting me wiped away by the confusion in my head.
Police officers line the hallway, three of them, shoulder-to-shoulder.
And they’re all staring at me and Eli.
For a second, I forget we’re at Trafalgar. Cops around the trailer park, the apartment complex back at the beach, all of that makes sense to me, but the three officers with badges and guns and hard eyes turned toward me is strange.
