“Hello, my beautiful partner,” Jase teased when I sat down onto my chair in psychology. “You’re two minutes later than usual. Is that normal for you?”
I just glanced over at him. “I’m always five minutes early.”
“Not today, it seems,” was his response.
I just sighed and looked forward, staring into the front of the room as I controlled my breathing.
“Is something wrong?” he asked me then, making my lips thin. “You’re looking pale again today.”
“I don’t trust you,” I blurted then.
His lips curled into a smirk. “Oh?”
“You are a liar, a secretive bastard, and I want nothing to do with you.”
He set his cheek in his hand, smiling as if he could tell I was lying. “Tell me because I’m very curious. Why do you struggle to trust so much?”
I remained silent.
“You haven’t dated one soul in this school for the last three years,” he stated then. “Is it because you don’t trust anyone?”
“That has nothing to do with how creepy you are,” I stated then, glaring.
“Are you afraid of me?” he said then.
I glanced over at him, sweat sliding down my temple.
His smile only darkened as if my expression answered his question easily. “Are you afraid of all men? Or just me?”
“I don’t see why you want to know the answer to that question.”
“I’m curious,” he said then, smile growing lazy. “You interest me. I want to know more about you.”
I gave him a suspicious glance. “Why?”
“You’re interesting,” he stated then. “Everything about you. Head to toe.”
I just stared back forward. “I don’t see why you’re curious in the subject.”
“Curious?” he echoed. “No! I’m captivated. The subject is you, after all. Everything about you fascinates me. What you do, how you act, why you do things. I want to know more.”
I glanced over again, something hot and fluttery filling inside me.
“You’re blushing,” he stated with a dark smile.
“No,” I immediately said, staring back forward. “I was running a fever this morning… I guess I’m feeling ill again.”
He tipped his head to the side, watching me. “Tell me more.”
But a voice echoed through my thoughts:
I—dare—you.
I immediately froze, gazing over at him in horror. “What?”
He only smirked. “I didn’t say anything.”
My heart pounded hard against my chest, but I tried to keep my composure. “How are you doing that?”
“Doing what?” he said innocently.
“You just… I heard you.”
His smile grew dangerous, menacing. “Heard me, what, Emma?”
“Don’t play games with me,” I said then, gritting my teeth.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”
I watched his amused expression, as if he was playing a game with me and knew he was winning. What was his goal? What was he?
I just stared back forward.
How could he…? No, he couldn’t have. There’s no way he could’ve spoken to my mind. That was impossible… it was unnatural.
“Emma,” he pressed with a grin.
“N… nothing,” I said quickly, staring back forward. “Nothing at all.”
His smile widened a touch.
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