Chapter 4

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I stayed very still. Maybe he isn't talking to me. Maybe there's someone right in front of my tree that I can't see from my angle. A million other possibilities dashed through my mind because I absolutely could not consider the fact that he knew. That he'd known all along.

Liam walked closer. "Don't bother pretending to be invisible. I can smell you!" He singsonged.

Oh shit. Ohshitohshitohshitohshit.

I popped up so fast it would have been funny, and started to run. I knew Liam was right behind me, I knew I had no chance of outrunning him, but I didn't care.

"You saw me chase down a vampire, yet you still think you can outrun me?" He called after me. I turned back for a quick second. Liam was strolling at a completely relaxed pace, yet he was somehow almost right on my back. 

He snickered. "I do enjoy a good chase, but come on! Make this a little bit challenging"

I pumped my legs harder, wheezing harder than I ever have. 

"Atta girl! You're doing much better! At this rate, I might even have to start running!" Liam called after me, voice cheery. 

"Faster, human! Go fast-" He was cut off by a tinny ringing sound. I heard his footsteps slow as he answered a cell phone. Relief flooded through me, and I increased my pace. Maybe there was a God after all. 

"Dammit! I'm in the middle of something!" He hissed into the phone. "No...I'll come back in a bit, just give me two seconds....Two seconds Lucca!" His voice trailed off as I got further away.

I veered into the trees again, this time running further into them. I hoped the evergreens would mask whatever scent he got off of me. 

Miracle of miracles, my crazy little plan actually worked. I tore through trees like an asylum escapee, ending up close to where I'd entered the park from. Almost right across from my house. 

I didn't even stop to wonder whether my mother was decent. I didn't care. Somehow, my problems with her seemed trivial and stupid. At least I still had a mother.

With a final burst of energy, I threw open my front door. Mom, who was sitting on a chair in the kitchen, jumped when she heard me.

"Blythie? Shouldn't you be at school?"

"I..." But I couldn't finish the sentence. All the running, everything I'd seen in that past hour, it had exhausted me more than I realized. I collapsed, right there on my front doorstep.

When I woke up I didn't realize where I was. I jumped up, panicking, thinking I hadn't escaped after all.

"Woah, woah. Calm down, okay Blythe?" I recognized my mother's voice. I opened my eyes.

"Oh God, Mom?" She grinned, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Hey, hey. It's okay! You're okay. What happened, Blythie? Did you skip school?"

I looked at the clock. 8:30. Wait, what? That didn't make sense. I'd left the house at like 6:00. How had I been out?

My mom noticed my stare. "You got back around 7, then passed out for an hour and a half," She said, staring intently at me. "What happened, sweetie?

"Oh...that's..." I didn't know what to say. What could I say? If I told her about the nightmare-like things I'd witnessed, the certain death I'd narrowly escaped, what would she say? Would she even believe me?

And hold on, why did she care? The last time I'd seen her, she hadn't even cared where I was, as long as I left her and her "boyfriend" alone. 

I turned away, suddenly pissed. "Why do you care?

I couldn't see her face, but I felt the guilt in Mom's silence. 

"Sweetie I...I'm sorry. I know I haven't been the best, but I do care. It's just been so hard without your father here anymore I-" She stopped herself abruptly, but it was too late. My curiosity had been piqued.

See, Mom never talked about my father. Never. When I was around 7, she claimed that she gave birth to me all on her own, no father in the picture. By the time I was old enough to call her on the lie, I realized how likely it was that my father hadn't been in her life for more than a night. But whenever I asked, I got silence, so I could never be sure. 

I'd just gotten more information about him in one sentence than I had in my entire life.

I turned toward Mom. 

"What was that about my father? What do you mean anymore?"

She stared down at her lap. "I'll tell you someday, Blythe. Really, I will. But today...you're just not ready." 

I scowled. Why did she think it was appropriate to act like an adult now? I turned back away, glaring at the wall opposite my bed.

"Then I don't really think you're ready for my story either." I said, trying not to sound whiny. I failed.

"That's...that's fine," Mom said. I heard the creak of her chair as she stood up and walked to my bedroom door. "But Blythe? Be safe, okay?"

Still feeling pissy, I ignored her. Mom sighed, then closed the door behind her. 

I heard the door creak back open. "And make no mistake, you are going back to school tomorrow." 

That time, she slammed it.

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