Haunted Rayne

21 - Homecoming Horror (part 1)

Rayne had not known what to expect of homecoming at Maria J. Westwood, but it certainly wasn't this. The Dining Hall lacked the tacky decor typical of the dances back home—in fact, there was not a single balloon or hand-painted banner in sight. The massive pillars lining the room were swathed in twinkling lights, and the booths were set with lavish centerpieces of onyx vases and roses dipped in silver. Rayne recalled the feeling of surprise that Bianca's extravagant attire had stirred within her, but looking around now, she realized that Bianca's dress was actually pretty tame.

Hillary adjusted the straps of her golden ballgown, with its four-layered tulle skirt glistening beneath the warm lights. Next to her, Jackie wore an ebony sequined mermaid dress. Its right shoulder was long-sleeved while the other was bare; honestly, she looked like she had stepped out of an editorial for a fashion magazine. Rayne looked down now at the gown Jackie had lent her. With a waterfall organza skirt, its navy fabric fell above her knees and dragged in a long train behind her. The bodice was made of lace, which hung off her shoulders and left her feeling a little exposed.

"Missing the uniform?" Jackie teased.

"Just ready for the night to be over," Rayne admitted.

"Well, I'm ready for the night to get started!" said Hillary, bouncing a few paces down the great hall. "Honestly, I don't want tonight to ever end. Oh!" She pointed ahead. "Rayne, there's your date!"

And there, he was.

At present, Cole Bradford was standing around one of the round tables with his crew. He should have been the one to catch her eye first, but Rayne almost didn't notice him. Lucas, on the other hand, was hard to miss in his three-piece tuxedo. It was a velvet midnight blue with dark lapels and trousers. He was in the middle of adjusting his bow tie when he looked up to meet her eyes. Rayne could feel the warmth of his golden irises from across the room. He raised his brows at the sight of her, an expression of sweet surprise caught on the shy, tender lifting of a closed-lipped smile. Somehow, its vulnerability managed to elicit a soft, sweet sigh of surprise from her too.

Cole turned, a grin lighting his face as soon as he saw Rayne. On brand for him, his suit was charcoal black and fitted with a glossy, gunmetal print of his favorite designer's monogram. He wore no tie or bow, and instead, kept the collar of his black dress shirt undone. "You're late," he said, approaching the girls as he fastened the middle button of his jacket with one hand.

"How does the phrase go?" Hillary asked, flipping her strawberry curls over her shoulder. " 'The best things in life are worth waiting for.' "

Cole smiled. "That they are."

Lucas studied the hall, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Feeling a whirlpool of shame and heartache swirl her breast, Rayne brushed her hair behind her ear as she turned away from the boys. Before she could even process her confusion, the hand that held still over her beating heart suddenly shot to her head. Her temples were pounding, a feeling all too familiar. When the brief thrumming began to subside, Rayne looked up to find that Bianca Hawthorne had been watching her as she strode across the hall. Her green eyes seemed agleam, just like the janitor's eyes had been on that day so long ago. Their familiarity did not end there though. Rayne gripped her temple, for just a moment, feeling submerged in the memory of the accident.

The red moon, the blood on her hands, the girl's skull between her fingers, the feel of it smashing into the pavement— Rayne recoiled.

It had been a girl. The person that Rayne had . . . hurt . . . no, killed . . . that night . . .

The beetle-like skittering of horror crept along her spine. Her cheeks reddened, mad with blistering self-contempt, but she still could not recall the entire memory. It had been a girl! she thought, fraught with panic. Could she remember more? Would she want to remember more?