Hellhound (Supernatural #1)

4; Behind Open Doors

Secret, noun.

1. something that is kept secret, hidden or concealed.
2. a mystery.

***

Monday morning, I felt okay going to school after Dad had left. He looked somewhat refreshed. Annoyed, maybe even troubled, but definitely refreshed. The hallways were crowded, more so than usual because nobody could hang out in front of the school while the rain was still falling outside. Though, I had noticed it was less intense for the first time since it had started to rain. Nonetheless, all the students had come inside to escape the cold and wetness of the falling water and seek shelter in the hallways.

It was quite an adventure to fight my way through the masses to get to my locker. I left like I was in the rain forest; all I was missing was a machete to cut myself a passage. Except that would only result in more work for Dad, so I went for the non-lethal option. Pushing and being pushed. I half expected Colton to pop up out of the crowd right in front of me and ask a thousand and one questions about the murder. When he was nowhere to be seen by the time I opened my locker, I pulled out my phone.

'Meet me at lunch.' was all I sent. He wasn't stupid, he would know exactly what I meant and would probably make it to the cafeteria before I did. Colton was really curious and wanted to know everything. Unfortunately for him, he didn't go as unnoticed as I did and never got the good stuff before the rest. I liked to think of myself as his informant. Though I wasn't going undercover as a student, and neither was I risking my life by meeting up with him.

I didn't keep my phone on hand in case he texted back. He wouldn't. Instead, I turned my attention to my locker and got my stuff together. Or at least I tried. With the hallways so crowded, the noise was quite loud. I had difficulty hearing myself think. How could anyone even hope to have a conversation in this noise? It wasn't until it died down a little that I raised my head and looked around, wondering what was going on. The two girls, who were standing quite close to me, had started whispering and giggling, their eyes moving down the hallway before they had another giggling fit. It seemed like the typical fan-girl reaction. Except there was no one in this school to fan-girl over, which made these girls just look ridiculous.

Rolling my eyes, I looked in the same direction as they had, knowing that it had to be a guy. Since there were no famous people in this school, girls only had that reaction if a good looking guy was involved. One of the soccer players had probably made his big entrance for the day. Or maybe it was a basketball player; they were just as good at making big entrances. I swear, most of the athletes were like divas, or attention whores, or a combination of both. Very few liked - and managed - to fly under the radar.

To my surprise, there was no athlete in sight. Instead, I only saw Tate heading this way, his bag hanging on one of his shoulders. How he kept it from slipping off the wet leather of his jacket, I had no idea. I could tell his hair was a bit wet, and when he ran a hand through it, dragging it back, it stayed right where it was. As he walked, I noticed how the girls would stare and then whisper together. Sure, Tate was a good looking guy, but those girls were really making fools of themselves.

At first, he hadn't seen me, but the exact moment he saw me looking, he smirked. I rolled my eyes and turned back to my locker, not wanting to be another one of those girls who only stared. The two who stood next to me had another giggling fit right as Tate came to stand next to me. They must have imagined he was there to talk to them. He leaned against the locker next to mine, making me look up at him. Only he was grinning at the girls, who had been giggling stupidly this whole time. Then his gray eyes met mine and I rolled my eyes once again.