We take a seat in our assigned desks and the principal of the private school goes over the rules as we gather for what I thought would be an assembly.
When I think of an assembly I imagine going to a gymnasium, sitting up on a rickety old bleacher, and then shouting while cheerleaders waved pompoms and football players showed off their muscles. That’s been every public school I’ve gone too. I guess not for this one though.
Papers are passed out and pencils are sharpened. As I sit at my desk, I fiddle with a locket around my neck. It’s the only thing I have to be remembered about my parents. After all, with dad in jail and mom exiling me to this school, I haven’t heard from them since. It’s been two months and while I don’t mind the no-contact policy, I’m feeling a little lonely from the other students. They get gifts, visits, cards, letters, meanwhile I’d be lucky if I got even a text or a call from mine.
The lights dim over our heads and above us in the sanctuary where we gather for the midterms, there is a large screen and a projector turns on. I let out a soft sigh, and sink lower into my seat. Midterms have officially begun.
Two older women walk down the aisle off to my left and as they pass by, a chill creeps up my spine.
I keep my face forward and crane my head a little. My neck feels like it’s being pinched, and I reach up to try and fix the clasp. When that doesn’t work my arms start to feel heavy and my body sluggish. The room begins to spin a little, going in and out of focus.
Something’s wrong.
I’m not getting enough oxygen and my breaths are shallow.
Anxiety attack? Maybe, but it doesn’t feel like one.
I open my mouth to talk, but no sound comes out.
The screen is still playing the segment and going over what will be expected on the midterms set out before us, but I can’t think about that. Not when I feel like I’m about to pass out.
Turning my head takes a lot of effort and I scan the room for either Ms. Evergreen or Mr. Daniels.
I need help. And fast. Something isn’t right.
My eyes land on Mr. Daniels.
He furrows his eyebrows at me.
Ghostly hands seem to grasp at my cheeks and my head painfully twists to stare at the screen. There’s a pain and those ghostly hands don’t seem to release me, because no matter what I try, I can’t seem to turn my head to look back at Mr. Daniels.
I shift in my seat, but I can’t even lift up my arms. They feel dead at my sides, and I swallow hard, tears blurring my eyesight.
Max.
I will him to look my way, to come this way. I need him.
Max, please…I need you.
Max
I could feel her eyes on me the moment my gaze met hers.
Dakota Mitchell’s blood continuously calls out to me, but I feel protective of her than I did before. Before those other vampires got ahold of her, her blood had become a siren’s call. A desire to thirst upon that lovely slender neck and burrow my teeth deep against her smooth skin. Now, I am her protector and right now she doesn’t look terribly good.
Maneuvering around the desks while the screen lights up behind me, I venture closer to where Dakota sits. I crouch down beside where she’s sitting. Some of the students around us glance our way but don’t seem to really think of what it could mean.
“What’s wrong?” My voice is low enough for her ears only.
Dakota reaches up and gives a swift tug at her necklace. My eyes land on the chain. The metal seems to pinch her neck and appears to be cutting off circulation.
Interesting. This is not an ordinary necklace.
In a fluid motion, I’ve gathered the necklace in my grasp, and jerk it forward. The chain breaks, and she let’s out a gasp. Dakota covers her face with her hands, trembling in her seat.
Stuffing the necklace in my pocket for later, I straighten up from where I’d been beside her. “Get up. Let’s get you some water.” I say it loud enough for the others to think she’d only been nervous about the exam.
I can’t have them thinking otherwise. Humans will do anything in their powers to make things difficult for one another. Something I detest in them for sure.