Glimpse (Completed)

Chapter Two: Liam

There has to be a better place to hide than this godforsaken town on the edge of civilization. But if anyone is willing to follow me to the most gothic place I've seen outside of Europe, I'll eat my hat.

The view, at least, is magnificent—even if I had to pick through the bungalows at the very edge of town to find it. The bay window at the back of the house boasts a stunning scene of grey water below, churning at the cliffside with an animosity that I know in the deepest parts of myself.

The incessant ticking from the clock on my new wall reminds me that I am late for my first full day of high school, though I'm still undecided on whether to throw myself over the cliffs instead.

As much as I wonder what would happen to me when I hit the bottom, suicide is highly uncharacteristic. With one last sigh at the foreboding landscape, I reach for a jacket and surrender to the wet, bland morning that awaits me.

The town is small—too small, perhaps, to conceal my stay, but it beats losing myself in a bustling metropolis and counting down the days until I'm found.

No, if anyone seeks me out here, at least I'll see it coming.

It appears I am not the only one who's late this morning. When I reach the monotonous parking lot of the school, a plume of exhaust seeps into the air from a blue Ford in need of at least a few days at a shop judging by the grinding noise emanating from the hood and the bumper hanging on for dear life with a frayed zip tie.

The girls in the car are familiar, as one stands impatiently in the rain with her leg shaking. Ah, yes. Toilet paper girl.

I could wait for them to go inside, but showing up late draws unwanted attention as it is. If I can slip in behind them, I'll be less noticeable.

The girl, whose raven hair spills out from under her hood, shuts the door and turns for the school, a strange urgency in her step. Why would anyone be so eager to get inside this place? I follow, my ridiculous prop of a backpack tapping on my shoulder all the while.

Announcing myself would make my approach feel less threatening, the sound of my steps masked as they are by the light rain, but she's too distracted to notice me behind her. If I'm lucky, she'll go to class without a second look and I won't have to speak to her again.

We are yards away from the entrance when her foot hits a slick spot on the pavement, sliding out from under her and throwing her weight backwards.

"Christ," I whisper under my breath, too quiet for her to hear. If I let her hit the ground with that enormous backpack strapped to one shoulder, she'll hit her head. Closing the distance between us in three strides, I catch her slight form with ease.

Her breath hitches when she hits my arms, eyes filling with mortified recognition when they settle on my face.

"Are you okay?" The faint smell of honeysuckle wafts off her hair, keeping her in my arms longer than is strictly necessary. Her heart beats with frantic abandon, color staining the roses of her cheeks and contrasting against her pale skin.

"Y-yeah, just clumsy." Her eyes are striking—deep green with flecks of gold and the occasional shade of blue mixed in. It takes another second to help her stand, keeping one hand on her elbow in case she can't keep her balance.

For fuck's sake, how could I have missed this yesterday?

"Are you new to Oregon?" The question is out before I can comprehend my own absurdity. It's those damned eyes, staring into mine with something distinctly inhuman.

One of her brows rises, a surprised smile on her lips. "I wish."

She doesn't like it here. A point in her favor. But her eyes remain fixed on mine and I can tell she's growing more curious by the second. Yesterday's entrance in her English class was less than optimal, and my indiscriminate conversation with her certainly didn't help things. I need her to lose interest, and fast.