I stared helplessly at the menu in front of me, feeling Twilight, Lizzy, and Pierce staring at me as I waited quietly at the table.
Jase still sat in front of me, a smile plastered on his face. “Something wrong?”
“They’re staring at me,” I said.
He briefly glanced behind me. “They are.”
I just shuffled my hands into my lap, sniffling.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he asked me then.
I shook my head immediately, knowing it would be better for me to stay within their eyesight in case he tried to stab me with that steak knife… right in front of him… at his disposal.
My bones chilled.
As if he had a window to my thoughts, Jase picked up the knife and set it aside, making my lips part.
“Why don’t we go somewhere else?” he suggested too kindly. “You seem tense around them.”
Them? No it’s YOU, sir.
“No, I’d rather stay here,” I said then.
“Emma.”
“What?” I gazed up.
His smile was still darker than the night sky. “Is something wrong?”
“You make me uneasy,” I stated then.
His smile tilted. “I can take you somewhere better. There’s a nice sub shop up town.”
“Is this you trying to get me alone?” I questioned him. “Because it’s not happening.”
His teeth showed through his grin. “My, my. You seriously think I want to kill you, don’t you?”
“Am I wrong?” I countered.
He never answered, but his smile widened a touch.
“That’s it, goodbye.” I attempted to stand.
“You’re supposed to be on a date with me,” he said then, making me pause. “Are you going to ditch me for another man?”
I glanced back at him. “If you’re so keen on going on a date with me, then maybe stop trying to intimidate me.”
“Intimidate you?” he echoed.
“Yes, you’re weirdly good at it,” I stated then, glaring.
“I can show you a good time,” he suggested then, smiling still. “There’s a nice ice cream shop up the road.”
“I don’t like you.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he stated then, smirking.
“You’re too dangerous for me,” I responded, voice dark with concern. “I don’t think I can ever trust you.”
His smile softened. “I can be nice, Emma. I can change your mind.”
“You make me uneasy.”
“I can fix that.”
Hardly.
“Come on,” he said then, smile tilting. “Humor me. Just for a night? I promise I’ll take you home at curfew.”
“Curfew?” I echoed.
“Ten pm.”
“Oh, so now you care about my parent’s feelings?” I countered.
“Just for a night,” he said then, still smiling. “Come on. Humor me.”
Before I could stop myself, I sat back down, hands in my lap. “Nine pm.”
He smirked. “Deal.”
I gazed up at him, and he just glanced behind me before looking back down. “Why don’t we go to a nice restaurant on the other part of old town? They sell really good strawberry short cakes.”
I gazed up hazily. Why is he being so nice?
He smiled. “I’ll pay.”
I sighed then. “Fine.”
Almost minutes later, I sat in the exact restaurant he suggested, and he smiled kindly at a waitress as she set a plate of strawberry fruit cakes in front of me, and short cakes in front of him.
She walked off then, and he sent me his familiar, sinister grin.
I watched hazily as I sniffled, staring down at my plate.
“Don’t tell me,” he said then, setting his cheek in his hand, “you’re worried this one is poisoned, too?”
“No,” I said then, staring at it, “just… not really hungry.”
I wasn’t really. I was… I was nervous and my stomach turned with nausea. My heart pounded hard against my chest… and I struggled to think straight.
Was I going insane? Or was the person who threatened to kill me that night real? Was it Jase?
I sighed and closed my eyes tightly.
It didn’t sound like him, but I’d been hearing him talking to my thoughts. It would’ve been weird if I didn’t admit that he could possibly change his voice to rid of my suspicion of him.
I wouldn’t put it past him.
“Is something wrong?” he asked me then.
I gazed up to find the smile still there, but I thought I saw something dark in his eyes…
Amusement? No, concern.
I stared back down at my plate. “I’m just not hungry.”
He watched me for a moment, but stood, stepping over to me as I gave him a nervous look.
He sat beside me, making me blink when he smiled gently.
“You’ve been looking all tense lately,” he said then, picking up my hand. “And very pale.”
I stared when he ran his thumbs along my knuckles.
“Did something happen?” he asked me.
I stared back forward and shook my head.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
He watched me suspiciously then, but I remained silent.
After a moment, he just pulled my hand up and kissed the back of my knuckles, making me gaze over at him as heat shot through me.
He immediately gazed up when he felt me tense. “Do you not like that?”
“No,” I said then, voice soft, “it... it’s okay.”
For some reason… it made a soft assurance slip through me.
“You’ve been looking nervous and more nervous every day,” he told me. “Especially after I saw you at that diner the other day.”
So he did see me.
I wasn’t surprised. There was no way he was showing up everywhere out of mere coincidence.
“I’m fine,” I said then.
“Emma,” he pressed, lashes lowering.
“I said I’m fine,” I responded.
I wasn’t going to tell him that I thought it was him, because I didn’t want to amuse him any further.
I just had to figure things out… was he the only one who was stalking me? Or was there another?
It was very coincidental timing, so I assumed it was related to him somehow.
He just ran his thumb along my knuckles again and smiled. “Alright, I’ll drop it.”
I snapped my gaze to him.
Wait… he just dropped it? Like that?
My eyes narrowed.
Hold on… why did he look satisfied? As if I just told him the answer…?
He smiled slightly. “You’re staring again.”
“I don’t understand you,” I stated then, watching him. “Why are you always such a mystery?”
His lips curled even further. “I like it better that way.”
“Why?” I questioned.
“Because,” he responded, eyes glowing dangerously, “you aren’t ready to know the real me.”
I just gazed down at my hand as he threaded his fingers through mine.
“You’re looking tense,” he said then, setting the back of my hand on his cheek, and I didn’t stop him. “Is there something I can do to calm you down?”
I thinned my lips. “Answer me a question.”
“Hmm?”
“Why did you come here?” I demanded. “Why did you come to Colorado? Why did you come to my school specifically? You told me you came here a year ago.”
His eyes glowed, once more. “You.”
“What about me?”
“You said one question, Sweetheart.”
“Do you want me to feel more easy around you or not?” I demanded.
He sighed and rubbed his cheek against my hand. “You intrigue me.”
“How?”
“You’re just so much different than what I expected,” he told me, his familiar fox-smile growing with each word. “You’re not like the other people in our school. You’re not shy, but not social either. You act strong even when you’re scared. Everything you do is out of love but you portray it in a selfish way. You don’t care how people see you… I’m allured to you because of it.”
My lips thinned.
“Not only that,” he whispered gently as I gazed up, “but I can tell something’s off about you. I noticed something. You have a scar here.” He lifted my hand, and my eyes widened when he brushed his thumb along the inside of my wrist. “What’s this from?”
How did he see that? It healed to almost perfection.
Maybe it was the trick of the lighting.
“Are you suicidal?” he asked me then, smiling.
I shook my head.
“No?”
“No.”
And I was being honest.
“It’s a scar from… from an event,” I said then.
“An event?” he echoed.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“What event?” he wondered then.
I glanced over at him nervously. “Why are you so interested?”
“The subject is you,” he said not-for-the-first-time, smirking. “I’m captivated.”
My lips parted.
“What’s the event?” he asked me then.
“I’d prefer not to talk about it,” I said, looking away.
He brushed his thumb along the scar again, and for some reason… I didn’t move to pull away.
“It must be very traumatic if you outwardly avoid thinking about it,” he said suddenly.
I gazed over at him then. Thinking about it?
His smile was lazy.
I wasn’t sure what he was suggesting, but I knew he was hinting something.
I swallowed something dry. “It’s… well… I did create the scar, but not in a manner to hurt myself.”
“Oh?”
I said it then. “My brother and father died two years ago, and I gave myself this scar that night. I scraped it on a… a pole or something. I can’t remember.”
“I thought your father was in New York with your mother,” Jase said then.
I shook my head. “No… he’s my stepfather.”
“Oh… I see,” he responded then, sounding sympathetic suddenly.
I was silent.
“How did they die? Illness?” Jase suggested. “Medical stuff?”
“No…” I whispered, “uhm… murder. They were stabbed.”
His eyes suddenly softened, and so did his smile. “I can’t imagine how much that hurts.”
I was silent, the familiar cold developing inside me.
“Is that why you have so many walls?” he asked me then. “You think everyone’s out to get you?”
“You do a good job of portraying that,” I stated then, annoyed.
“I can be intimidating at times,” he responded then, sighing as if he suddenly regretted it.
I glanced over at him.
He smirked, running his thumbs along my knuckles. “Why don’t I take you to the arcade? And then I can take you to get some ice cream to-go. By the time we’re done, it’ll be nine.”
I nodded then. “Okay.”
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