I think most of us in this school are probably adrenaline junkies. Except maybe Tessa, who'd be better suited to sitting behind a desk. There is nothing we love more than to get our blood pumping, and what better way then a last minute test that forces us to showcase our skills.
Friends are quickly made with strangers, lectures being given, multiple languages are spoken, partners on the dance floor switch quicker then an old style waltz spins.
When I'm forced to spin out of Elijah's arms and into a strangers, I'm surprised the boy knows my name. He looks athletic, probably top of his class, instinct tells me this is Vince's old archenemy.
"You're not a talker?" He says. We've finished the foxtrot and he's plied me with many questions I don't want to answer.
"Not really."
He looks down his nose at me, his eyes are kind of beady. Without all that muscle he would look like a naked mole rat. "Did you really get kidnapped and tortured?"
I frown. "How do you know about that?"
He shrugs, his arms still around me as we move into a slow rumba. "Things like that don't really happen often, word gets around."
"That is the least comforting thing I have ever heard." I say. "No one is supposed to know."
He shrugs again. "Not many seventeen year olds girls would survive that." Nosy and a misogynist, lovely.
My eyes narrow at him, "How do you know what I survived? I don't even fully know what I survived."
"Amelia," The boy says calmly, "Everybody knows. You're a legend."
I am not touched by his words. I am freaked out. Only trusted people are supposed to know about me, the top dogs, people in the school, my friends. Word shouldn't be flying around about the torture I endured, students in this school are supposed to have each others backs, even if they hate each other. Our lives depend on it.
"Excuse me," I say, stepping out of his arms. "I need a drink."
"Let me escort you."
"No!" I half snap, then catch myself. "That's very kind, but I'm capable of getting myself across the dance floor."
He frowns and then nods before letting me leave. I rush to grab a drink and then push myself into the shadows.
I watch as my schoolmates have fun, laugh, get to know the imposters who have infiltrated the school walls. I keep my eyes and ears open. I pay attention to everything.
I watch as Vince dances with his ex-girlfriend three times. Elijah laughs at something Lily says. Grace prances about with Tessa, pulling goofy faces. Will goes in for a kiss with his date. Everyone is having a good time.
But there is something about the teachers faces. The way Stan is moving around the room, brow furrowed, eyes alert, he makes me feel like something is wrong. I look harder, but everything seems ordinary to me. For the first time, they all look like teenagers having fun.
Maybe that's the problem.
"Having a good time?" A voice close to my ear makes me jump.
Startled, I turn towards Vince.
"How do you do that?"
"Do what?" He asks, handing me a drink.
I take it and turn back to the dance floor. "Creep up on me."
"You get too focused on what's in front of you. You stop paying attention to what's around you."
"How observant."
He eyes me in silence for a while, then he turns to look at the dance floor. "Are you not having a good time?"
I shrug, "I don't know. Something is wrong."
Vince laughs. "You always think that. Do you not know how to have fun?"
"Are tests supposed to be fun?"
He grins at me, "We could make it so."
Then I see him. My memory is fuzzy, sure. I don't remember the relentless torture I endured, but I do know the face of Daniel Snyder.
He frequents my nightmares, occupies my thoughts. He is one of the only reasons I came back to this school, so I could learn how to beat him. And there he is, stood, in the room where not a year ago he snatched me from. As if he belongs here, as if he's allowed to be here.
If Vince notices a change in me he doesn't say so, just he asks me to dance. I say no, make some excuse and move away from him. He hasn't made Daniel yet or he's pretending not to. Maybe he's been a double agent this whole time, maybe this was his whole plan.
I think about it for a moment as I move silently around the room, but I know there's no way that can be true. I trust Vince. I know Vince. He's scared of Daniel and haunted by what happened to me, but he's the only other person in this room who knows what Daniel looks like and he's not hiding, he's there in plain sight, yet Vince can't seem to see him.
Slowly, elegantly, I make my way to Daniel. I don't want to draw attention to me, and I don't have a plan. I don't really know what I'm doing. Fuelled by rage and the want of answers.
I bypass Elijah and Grace, saying nothing to them. I keep my head low, my feet quick, until finally I am stood, elbow-to-elbow, next to the boy who murdered my mother, potentially murdered my father, and tortured me.
He leans his back against the wall, one leg crossed over the other as if this is any other day. Then he takes a long sip of his drink and grins at me. "Took you long enough."
I smile, but through gritted teeth I say, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"You're a smart girl," Daniel says. "Work it out."
He looks so young, so innocent. Puffy, chubby cheeks that are bright red, dark eyes framed by dark lashes. I wonder what happened to him as a child that's made him so grotesquely sadistic.
"You're here for me."
"And Vince." He says, with eery calmness. "I want revenge, Amelia."
"Torturing me wasn't enough? Killing my parents wasn't enough?"
"You made me look weak to my father, unable to get the weapon despite having you for six months. Then you both escaped. I look like a bumbling idiot."
"Well," I say. "Your fathers impression isn't wrong then, is it?"
He's grinning, "You're going to regret that."
"What are you going to do? Kidnap me? Torture me? Been there sweetheart, and I'm still breathing to tell the tale."
He takes my hand and drags me to the dance floor, "You've become a cocky little thing, haven't you? Not the weeping mess I turned you into."
I feel my jaw clench as he spins me across the room. No one knows who he is, no one is paying attention. Vince is laughing with a girl from his school, Elijah is talking to Stan.
No one knows that the boy who has inflicted such misery is right here. Only me, and he's clutching me to his evil chest. I can't alert them, I can't tell them. I have to play along.
"So, what's the plan? Force us to come with you so you can keep us as your personal torture pets?"
"No," Daniel says. He dips me (yes, really, dips me like something from an old French film.) Then he hoists me close. "I'm here to kill you. To kill all of you."
"Good luck," I snort. "You're on our turf now."
Daniel shrugs, "Do you know how easy it is to get to people who think they're safe? Everyone has let their guard down, no one is paying attention. Not even Vince has noticed me yet."
My eyes sweep the room and I see Vince talking to Elijah and Stan, his stance is relaxed but his mouth moves fast. I know that Daniel is wrong. I know Vince has finally caught up.
Daniel leans in close to my ear and nibbles it, I fight to recoil from him. He leans back and stares at me before pushing a stray hair from my face. My mind is blank. My body numb. I'm terrified. My mind might not remember what happened to me, but my body seems to. There are no thoughts in my head. I'm paralysed.
"You're quite beautiful." He gives me an almost sad smile. "It's a shame I'm going to blow your face to smithereens."