There was someone watching me.
I could feel their eyes like a weight on my skull as Charlie and I strolled down the street, to where one of the local Dunkin Donuts was located. As Charlie gossiped about some girl in our Spanish class, I flicked my gaze from left to right, even turning around for good measure. But no one popped out at me. No one ever did. This had been going on for weeks, and not once did I see anything out of the ordinary. But the feeling remained.
"Wren, are you even listening to me?" Charlie demanded, shaking my arm to bring me back to reality. I winced as her nails dug into my skin. She cocked an eyebrow at my reaction and released my arm, flipping some of her blond hair over her shoulder. "Sorry," she said.
"It's fine," I replied absently, casting another quick glance behind me. "And no, of course I'm not listening to you. You've been talking about this girl for the past twenty minutes."
"Don't think I don't know you called her 'this girl' only because you can't remember who the hell I'm talking about," Charlie warned, pointing her manicured finger at me. "And of course I have been! The girl makes me wish I took a foreign language in high school instead of college."
I shook my head, unable to help but laugh despite how uneasy I still felt. "No she doesn't," I told her. "Might I remind you that the Spanish teacher was Mr. Oliver?"
"Oh god." Charlie wrinkled her nose. "That's right. Do you think he's been fired for looking down girls' shirts yet?"
We were still conversing about the perverted faculty of our high school when we stepped into Dunkin Donuts. A woman eating her breakfast at one of the tables gave us a discreet, weirded-out look, but we ignored her as we headed to the counter, where a girl I recognized from our school, the University of Christyl, was standing. She smiled openly at us as we approached. "Hello," she said. "What can I get you?"
"Two mocha lattes, please," I said. I glanced at Charlie. "Did you plan on getting something to eat?"
"Nah." Charlie waved her had dismissively. "I have a granola bar in my bag."
I nodded and returned my gaze to the girl. "That'll be it."
After asking us the usual questions that came with ordering mocha lattes, the girl headed to make our drinks. Charlie and I chatted while we waited, and I felt myself begin to relax as my unease faded into the background.
"Here you go," the girl announced, setting our drinks on the counter and sliding them toward us. "That'll be seven dollars and twenty cents."
Charlie and I paid for our halves and then left, sipping at our mocha lattes as we did. When we left the building, the metaphorical weight at the back of my head returned, and I glanced around feverishly, searching for something, someone-
"Are you okay?"
My eyes ripped away from my surroundings and back to Charlie. "I'm fine," I mumbled, sipping at my drink.
Charlie opened her mouth to respond, but a masculine voice interrupted her before she could. "Hey, babe!"
I twisted to the left, a smile pricking my lips upward as Scott waved, a warm smile of his own lighting up his face. His hair was a shade lighter than mine, but still dark. He brought a hand through it as he approached, and I felt something in my stomach stir. God, he was sexy. "Hey!" I replied, waving my mocha-latte-filled hand at him.
YOU ARE READING
Someone has been watching Wren for weeks. She can’t see them, but she can feel them. Can feel their eyes on her as she leaves her dorm, as she walks down the street with her friends. This fact becomes startlingly clear when someone poses as her b...