The drive home was a blur of shapes and colors. I barely saw anything and I couldn’t pay attention. My mind was still back in the parking lot where I thought I saw the lights.

  My hands were sweating disgustingly as I grasped the steering wheel tightly. I was edgy and jumpy and constantly checking in the rearview mirror for any trace of yellow lights in the shape of eyes.

  I wasn’t exactly sure what I had seen in the foggy parking lot, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. If my nightmares had crossed over into real life, then I was going to have to keep myself on high alert.

  I parked my car in the driveway, jumped out, and dashed inside the house, dead bolting the door behind me. I could hear the TV humming in the living room. Marco and Sophia were home, which made me feel slightly safer. I went up to my room and locked my door. Then I sank to the floor.

  This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream. How could it not be? To find out if I was dreaming or not, I did the only thing I could think. I pinched my arm hard. It stung and a pink welt formed on my skin.

  Well, that was a great idea.

  I sighed, getting to my feet. I had two options here and neither one of them was appealing. The first, and my least favorite: wait it out; see what happens. The second option I wasn’t too fond of either: tell Marco and Sophia. This meant risking looking like I was a total nut job. But getting killed seemed worse. So with a million knots tying their way into my stomach, I headed downstairs.

  You know that feeling you get when you walk into a room and the air feels thick and heavy and you know you were just being talked about? Well, that’s what happened when I found Marco and Sophia, huddled together at the kitchen table, talking quietly. I instantly got the impression they were talking about me. And by the horrified expressions on their faces when they saw me, I assumed my impression was right.

  Sophia leaned back in the chair and smoothed out her grey skirt. “Do you need something, Gemma?”

  I eyed her over suspiciously. “I’m not sure.” Something felt off, and my insides were screaming at me to keep my mouth shut.

  Marco swiped a magazine up from the table and fumbled to open it, mumbling incoherently underneath his breath.

  “Well, if you don’t need anything…” Sophia drifted out of her chair and roamed over to the cupboards.

  I stood in the doorway, watching her closely as she moved over to the pantry, grabbed a can of tomato sauce, and fought to get the lid off.

  I glanced at the clock: 4:30. A little too early to be making dinner. Yet there she was, making dinner. I turned my attention to Marco. He shook the magazine out, and then turned his back to me.

  What in the world had I been thinking? I should have known better than to believe I could talk to them. I didn’t even know them. Not really. I mean, for all I knew the real reason I have been living with them for the last seventeen years was because they kidnapped me. Yeah, I really didn’t think that was true or anything, but until I could prove it wasn’t true, I wasn’t going to disregard the theory.

  The next day at school, I felt like a walking zombie. I slept like crap the night before because of my nightmares. Of course, I had no trouble sleeping during biology. When the bell rang, it woke me up, and scared the crap out of me, causing me to leap from my seat and bang my knee on the desk. Not to mention my cheek had been resting on my arm, right where my studded bracelet was fastened, so now there was a sequence of dots indented into the side of my face. Which in no way made me look like a bigger dork, let me tell you. Add the humiliation factor with the giant bruise on my knee, and I felt awesome.

  My next stop was astronomy. I arrived early and the classroom was empty. The emptiness immediately made me uneasy. Goose bumps sprouted all over my skin as I hung my messenger bag on the back of the chair and sat down. God, I was so tired. I needed a nap.

  As soon as the first person entered, I rested my head on the table and let my eyelids slip shut. But moments later, a warm tingly sensation shot up my arms and reverberated down my back.

  “Tired?” Alex remarked. I heard a chair slide out and then something landed on the table not too far from my head. His backpack, I assumed.

  I didn’t say anything. Nor did I look at him. I just wasn’t in the mood to deal with him.

  He didn’t say anything else to me, and I didn’t raise my head until class started. That was when I realized Aislin’s chair was vacant.

  “She’s not here today,” he said, noticing the direction of my gaze. He was wearing a black shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He looked good. He always looked good. Too bad he was such a jerk. “She has the flu,” he added.

  “Oh.” I frowned. So it was just him and me? Well, today ought to be fun. About as fun as watching a two hour special on fungi growth (and yeah, I’ve actually had to do that before). Aislin acted as our mediator. With her gone, I could only imagine how well the next forty-five minutes was going to go.

  “You don’t need to look so upset about it.” A smirk threatened at his lips. “I’m not that bad to be around, am I?”

  Afraid of what might come out of my mouth, I kept it shut.

  Ten minutes into class, Mr. Sterling received a phone call. After he hung up, he made an announcement that there was something urgent that needed his attention, and he was going to take the class to the library so we could get started on our projects.

  I considered ditching. Going home and taking a nap. But I couldn’t muster up enough courage to go through with it. Mark Scholy and Dean Edwards did. They ducked out as soon as Mrs. Bakerly stepped away from her desk. But they didn’t have to worry about a group of freaky yellow-eyed monsters showing up to kill them.

  “So what do you want to work on first?” Alex asked me after we picked out a table.

  I hung my messenger bag on the back of a chair. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

  He took his cell phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Well, it doesn’t matter to me either.”

  We both stood there, mulling over what to do next, and I caught him staring at my eyes. Not into my eyes—at my eyes. Typically when people stared at them, they were awestruck by the shocking color of violet, which bugged me. However, the way Alex was looking at them erased my normal ping of annoyance, and made my insides melt like hot butter.

  Then, of course, he had to open his mouth and ruin everything. “Maybe you should go home and get some sleep. You look tired.”

  He might as well have told me I looked like hell.

  I shot him a scowl, turned my back on him, and marched off toward the bookshelves. Not necessarily to look for a book, but to get away from him.

  He followed after me. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I was just suggesting that maybe you should get some more sleep.”

  “That would be nice if it were possible.” I stopped in front of a shelf and skimmed the titles of the books. Realizing I was in the romance section—the last place I wanted to be—I rounded the corner to the fiction section, with Alex trailing at my heels.

  “Are you having nightmares or something?” His eyes met mine, and I momentarily spaced out.

  “Yes.” I blinked and shook my head. “I mean no.”

  His smile was mocking. “Which one is it? Yes or no?”

  “Yes, I had a nightmare,” I snapped. “But what does it matter to you?”

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t.”

  I bit down on my tongue to stop myself from sticking it out like a three-year-old. Don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him get to you. “You know, I could just write the report for us,” I said. “And then you and Aislin could put the galaxy map together. That way you and I wouldn’t have to work together.”

  “What are you trying to do, get rid of me or something?” he teased.

  “No,” I answered mechanically. Wait. Where did that come from?

  He grinned haughtily.

  “Oh, would you just go away?” I yanked a random book from the shelf and fixed
my attention on reading the back cover.

  Before he could say another snide remark—because I’m almost positive he had one ready—his phone rang from inside his pocket. Instead of answering it, he silenced it. “Actually, I was thinking about cutting out early.”

  I should have been relieved, but for some reason I developed a nauseated feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Okay, go ahead. I won’t say anything.”

  “Oh, I know you won’t.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “I was just telling you in case you wanted to come along.”

  I gaped at him. “You have got to be kidding.”

  “Nope,” he said. “You really look like you could use a break.”

  I had no idea what to say. Although, I knew what my heart was telling me to do—go with him. But he hated me. I knew that. He had to be teasing me. Playing his little Alex mind games.

  He ambled over to the end of the aisle and glanced over his shoulder, flashing me a taunting smile. “That is unless you are too scared.”

  I should have been—after what he just said. But for a split second—a very crucial, decision making second—I conveniently forgot about everything. How he repeatedly treated me like crap. And I magically shoved the electric feeling right out of my mind, along with the conversation I overheard between him and Aislin.

  Alex disappeared around the corner of the shelf and headed back to our table. I followed after him, Kelsey Merritt and her clones throwing me dirty looks as I passed by them.

  “So where exactly are you going?” I asked him.

  “It’s a surprise,” he said, shoving his books into his bag.

  Don’t go, my inner conscious screamed at me. “Okay, I’m in.”

  He swung his bag over his shoulder, and I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “Let’s go then.”

  I hesitated, suddenly unsure. Was I out of my mind? Going off with him—after everything that had happened between us?

  But then he dazzled me with the most beautiful, heart-melting smile—the kind of smile I have wanted him to give me since the first day I laid eyes on him—and that was that. The rational part of my brain quit working. Without a second thought, I grabbed my bag and followed him out the door.

  Chapter 7