Adrenaline coursed through my veins and I spent the remainder of the night staring into the darkness, turning over the night's events in my head. I couldn't decide if spying on Sam had been a bad choice or a huge breakthrough. Seline was a witch who could do real magic. I'd seen her use it to bring down Sam. His voice still lingered in my mind. It had been so raw—so animalistic. What was he? I felt like my entire reality had come cascading down around me to reveal a whole parallel world I'd never noticed, right under my nose. What else was real that I'd read about as a child? It was as exciting as it was intimidating. Then I thought of Sam and the way Seline had reduced him to a begging heap of pain. It was horrible watching him suffer, but I didn't want to imagine what could have happened if Seline hadn't been there.
As I stared blindly at the strip of morning sunlight on the ceiling, I found myself wondering if Sam had woken up yet. Seline had assured me he'd be fine, but I doubted anyone could be fine after that kind of torture. All the same, I'd come home and tried to take comfort in the knowledge that she knew him far better than I did. She had explained the very least to me; she was trying to help Sam. I'd asked her what kind of help, but she'd simply smiled. I knew that meant I had to wait. Sam needed to be ready to tell me.
Shaking off the residual nervous energy still pent up inside me, I climbed out of bed and got my things ready for college. I needed to get up and get going if I was to make it through today. I just hoped my lessons would be enough to distract me so that the day wouldn't feel like a year. Who was I trying to kid? Nothing would tear my mind from thinking about Sam. I needed to see him, but I knew that was unlikely to happen today. If he had any recollection of last night, he was sure to avoid me so he didn't have to answer any questions. So I made a promise with myself, that if I did see him today, I wouldn't ask him any questions. Seline had assured me that he would tell me when he thought it necessary, and I believed her. Perhaps he'd feel inclined to tell me a little quicker if I feigned disinterest. Reverse psychology: a phenomenon that my mum used to use to great effect on me, that was until I learnt about it at school.
An hour later, I pulled my car through the college gates and parked beside the sports hall, reminding me of the night Zac had died—the night Sam had told me how he felt. A pang of guilt sprung up inside me. What was I supposed to do with that memory? Was it a happy one or a sad one? Pushing the memory from my mind, I gathered up my things and climbed out of the car into the chilly carpark. I had maths first, but it didn't start for another hour. I thought I might as well go to the library and work on that biology essay I'd been avoiding. At least then I could pretend I was doing something productive, even if all I did was mull over every tiny moment I'd had with Sam in the past few months. I knew I should probably try to find Louisa and share with her what I'd found out. She'd want to know. If Blake was the same as Sam, she deserved to know, but selfishly, I wanted to keep this to myself for the moment. If Sam found out I'd been sharing secrets with Louisa, I was sure he wouldn't trust me enough to say more. My gut instinct was not to utter a word more about this.
It was still early as I entered the library and it was deadly quiet, apart from one other student returning books before class. Relieved, I made my way towards the steps and climbed up to the third floor. The third floor was very rarely used and just held a collection of very old anthologies and encyclopedias, so I knew if there was anywhere to hide away, it would be here. I found a quiet spot near the back of the building behind a row of dusty bookshelves with books that clearly hadn't been touched in years. Although tucked away in a dimly lit corner, I could still glimpse the world outside, from my hiding place. A small vertical window stretched from floor to ceiling and looked out over the grassy common. I watched as students and teachers bustled off in different directions oblivious to my eyes on them. I should have been here to do work, but as soon as I slumped down in a chair, I knew that wasn't going to happen. It was the perfect place to think, away from any prying eyes. There was no pressure to put on a mask of calm, which was good as my mind was racing.
I was attempting to process everything. As I pictured Sam and the look in his eyes last night, a thousand feelings stirred inside me. The most dominant was disappointment; disappointment that I probably wouldn't see him for weeks on end now. I'd wondered whether or not I actually wanted to see him, but I still couldn't forget the way he'd kissed me. There had been something so hesitant, almost shy, about the way he'd pulled me close and brushed his lips against mine. It was almost as if he'd expected me to run at any moment.
Picking up my pen, I began to write the title of my essay, but a rough cough sounded behind me and I jumped. I whipped around, and Sam was standing directly behind me, looking at me wearily. An unexpected terror ignited my insides as I stared into the same face that had growled my name into the night, but his eyes were drained and apologetic, and his posture showed his fatigue.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
I swallowed nervously. His eyes were black, but not unnaturally black and he looked tired.
"You're working hard, I see," he tried. I stared back at my blank page, embarrassed. "Can I sit?" he said cautiously, pointing to the chair on my other side. I nodded and watched as he slumped next to me. He usually held an air of power, but today, it struck me how grey and ill he looked. I remembered I'd promised myself I wouldn't ask any questions, even though a million of them immediately fluttered to the forefront of my mind. Forcing myself to look away, I began doodling absently in the margin of my paper.
"Seline told me what I did," came Sam's gruff voice.
I glanced back at him briefly before turning back to my doodles. I didn't know what he wanted me to say, but then his warm hand crept up my arm and fixed on my wrist. I turned to him, wide eyed.
"Do I scare you?" he spoke, darkness clouding his vision. I became aware of my breath hitching, and I was torn between pulling my arm away and keeping it in Sam's grip. I shook my head imperceptibly, looking down at my trapped wrist.
"Sorry. You probably want me to get the hell away from you," he said, his hand snaking away from me.
"No," I offered quietly with a small shake of my head. I chewed on my bottom lip awkwardly.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You're right—maybe I don't know you as well as I think I do." I knew we were both thinking of the night we'd met and how far we'd come, but that just presented more questions, so I turned away and gazed out the window, afraid if I opened my mouth to talk, questions would come tumbling out. I could sense Sam staring at me, waiting for me to say something. He gave in and spoke first.
"You don't want to talk about it?" he questioned.
I faced him. "I'm not asking questions today," I said, watching the look of apprehension on Sam's face turn slowly to amusement.
"Are you saying that...I act like a complete raving lunatic and you don't have questions?" he asked incredulously. I realised how ridiculous it all sounded and I looked sidelong at him and gave him a wry smile.
"It's not that I don't have questions," I muttered, checking that we were still alone. "It's just that I've decided to let you off for today. I'm turning over a new leaf; going with the flow."
He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a grunt of relief before slipping further into his chair and plucking a book off a nearby bookcase. He flicked through the pages, pausing to read chapter titles. "Although, I hope you realise that this doesn't change the fact that I have a question for you," he said.
I braced myself.
"What were you doing at my house so late last night?" He eyed me darkly, making me blush and avoid his eyes.
He'd caught me off guard and I didn't have an answer. I couldn't very well say I was spying on him because I thought he regretted the kiss and that I thought there was a possibility he might be involved in a murderous cult. My heart rate accelerated and I thought quickly.
"You don't answer any of my questions, so..." I said with what I hoped was a nonchalant shrug.
He laughed bleakly. "So that's how you want to play it..."
"Yep," I said smugly, turning to him with an air of confidence.
He stared back into my eyes, his jaw set, before letting his gaze travel to my lips and back. "Okay..." he began thoughtfully, "What if I answer one of your questions?"
I reminded myself once more of my promise, but this was too good an offer to pass up. Sam reached to massage the back of his neck, letting his sleeve slip down his wrist a little. I could just see the edge of his tattoo. It was still a vibrant black. His complexion was pale though and as he moved his head from side to side, I wondered if he was still in pain from Seline's onslaught.
"Fine. It's a deal," I said, trying not to let my feeling get the better of me. I needed a clear head to think of a good question.
"I thought that might sound like a tempting offer to you," he murmured, his smile sly.
I took a deep breath and levelled his gaze. "Why were you talking to Mr Jenson the other night?"
Sam considered the question for a moment. If he'd been shocked that I knew this, he hid it well.
"I was helping him get people out of the hall," he stated simply, keeping his expression blank.
"No, before I saw you. I heard you talking to him outside. Louisa and I heard everything." The blood drained from Sam's face in realisation. The light-hearted Sam that had been there moments before disappeared in an instant.
"How much did you hear?" There was an edge to his voice.
"I heard a lot about risk taking..." Sam stared back at me, not giving anything away. "And I heard you say, 'Ava doesn't suspect a thing...'"
Sam was quiet, his eyes fixed on my face, then he took a deep rattling breath. "Yes," he stated simply through gritted teeth, not giving me anymore.
"What aren't you telling me?"
"I can't say." His tone was clipped as he straightened up in the chair and braced his hands on the desk.
"Why?"
"Because it would put both of us in a lot of danger." Sam's softer demeanour had vanished completely now, replaced by a cold outer shell and in an instant, he was on his feet. "I have to go."
"Did one of them have something to do with Zac?" I asked, getting to my feet too.
"Ava—" he said warningly, glancing down the corridor of books, "you need to be careful what you say."
"Did Blake do it?"
"Ava—" The fear was evident in his face now.
"Did Jules?"
Sam said nothing and continued to stare at me uncertainly. He was hiding something, and I was beginning to feel frustrated. Zac had died. "Tell me."
"No," he said brusquely, brushing past me to leave.
"Sam, please. I need to know. What aren't you telling me?" I implored, gripping his arm and pulling him back.
"I can't say," he muttered, staring down at my hand.
"Yes, you can—you just won't!"
He stared at me defiantly and the black in his eyes whirled like storms, but then he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and when he opened his eyes again, the storm had gone. He looked exhausted.
"Please don't force me to say things I'm bound by law not to tell," he said. He took my hand and lowered it gently to my side. "I need to go. I have to meet the others." With that, he turned and walked away from me.
Seeing him walk away so calmly snapped something inside me. Frustration bubbled up inside me like molten lava and I didn't care who heard anymore. Enough was enough.
"Why are you protecting them?" I shouted, just as he turned the corner. My breathing was ragged, and I thought for a moment he'd gone, then footsteps thudded as he marched back towards me, his face full of fury.
"Will you keep your voice down?" he hissed, as he reached me. "I'm not protecting them. I'm trying to protect you!" I was so confused. Why did I need protecting? As if reading my thoughts, he gazed at me imploringly. "Yes—you, Ava," he stated.
I was unsure of what to say and my voice shook as I spoke. "I don't understand. Why do you need to protect me from them?"
He was angry but as he continued to gaze into my eyes I could see him begin to calm down. "You don't need to understand," he said, keeping his voice quiet and willing me to accept what he said. I knew I should leave it, but so much had happened. I needed to know. I looked into his blazing black eyes with resolve.
"Why is Blake angry with you?"
Sam ran a hand through his hair. "Let it go, Ava."
"I can't," I said, shaking my head. "I'm already missing half the story with my mum's death. I don't want more holes."
"That's different," Sam stated, turning away from me, walking to the wall and plucking another book off the shelf.
"What do you mean? How is it different?"
"I don't know. It just is," he said. He placed the book back on a shelf and faced me. There was something so sad in his expression. "You're never going to let this go, are you?"
"I can't," I said with a shrug. "Too much has happened for me to let it be water under the bridge, Sam. I need the truth, no matter how awful it is."
He looked at me shocked, but I could still see it there: sorrow that stretched beyond anything I'd ever felt before. I wanted him to tell me what was wrong, but I knew that he wouldn't. He seemed determined to go this alone. He reached out and ran his fingers down through the ends of my hair as his eyes flicked down to my lips. I knew in that moment that he wanted to kiss me, but he didn't. An invisible wall had been built between us casting great, terrifying shadows over us both. Only time would tell who would emerge from the dark depths first.
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Thanks for reading Ava and Sam's story! Xx