6.Anne Jacobs

What the actual fuck was that crazy shit?

What higher power did I offend? Who did I piss off in a past life to deserve Victor Blackwell deciding we were suddenly soulmates?

I'm ruined. Ruined.

Goodbye peaceful life. Goodbye flying under the radar. Goodbye anonymity. I don't even know how that psycho convinced himself I was giving him a chance, but he did—like I hadn't literally tried to fight him in public a few days ago. Like I hadn't told him repeatedly to go away.

And then he dropped it casually: that he's been watching me for years.

Years.

He said it like it was romantic, like I was supposed to swoon. Instead, I was calculating the nearest exit and wondering if I'd get detention again for punching him in the face. He said he thought I could read minds.

Which means he's been watching me very closely for a while.

Maybe it was just a throwaway comment. He didn't seem too focused on it—he was too busy professing his undying devotion like some obsessed character from a badly written anime. But still... he noticed. What happens if he proves it?

I've seen enough movies to know what comes next. Lab coats. Needles. A basement full of computers and men with no necks.

I don't want to be a government experiment.

God, I'm so fucked.

I can't believe I attracted a psycho.

***

When the lunch bell rang, I made a mad dash for the one place I knew he wouldn't think to look—the nurse's office. It was quiet. Private. Safe.

Or... it should have been.

Unfortunately, Victor was already there.

Sitting. Smiling. Waiting.

'What a cutie. I should let her get used to my presence a bit so she'll be less nervous. Lucky I got the nurse to leave for the whole lunch period. Those restaurant vouchers were worth it.'

WHAT THE FUCK.

"Hey, I brought lunch for both of us!" Victor said brightly.

And sure enough, the tray beside him was stacked high with food. The most expensive things from the cafeteria menu, all arranged like a romantic picnic from hell.

I sat down.

Only because of the food. I mean, come on. No point in wasting a free meal. I wasn't going to let my stomach suffer just because the person offering it was a walking red flag.

'Even sexier eating up close.'

I nearly threw the sandwich at his head.

"Why are you staring at me?" I hissed.

"I was wondering if we can start hanging out and being closer since you're giving me a chance?" he asked like that was a normal thing to say.

I blinked. "What did you just say?"

Victor took my hand.

He took my fucking hand.

"Are your hands usually this cold?" he asked. "You have a digestive disorder, and I heard cold hands and feet are a common side effect."

My entire body froze.

Why is he touching me?

Why does he know that?

'She's blushing. Almost there.'

No, I'm not blushing, I'm panicking. There's a difference.

"Are you okay, Anne?" Victor leaned closer until our foreheads touched. "Your face is red. Is it a fever? No... your temperature seems pretty normal to me."

'So beautiful. I should be the only one who knows about it.'

Why was he so close? Why was I still here? Why hadn't I run screaming yet?

"Go ahead and eat," he said sweetly, pulling back just enough to still be too close.

Like a psycho.

Outside, I heard a familiar voice.

Not spoken—but thought.

Lara.

The most popular girl in school.

'Victor actually went to eat in here with this loser? What's going on here? How could he turn down lunch with me to hang out with her? And why were they just kissing? I'll get that freak!'

Great.

Just fantastic.

She must've seen him leaning close when he touched my forehead and completely misread the situation. Now she thinks we're kissing and cuddling in secret like some twisted Romeo and Juliet scenario.

And that meant I was now officially public enemy number one to every girl in school.

Victor was ruining my life in real time.

"What's wrong?" Victor asked, tugging my attention back like he hadn't just detonated my entire social invisibility. "Give me some attention too."

"Let go of my hand," I muttered, trying to pull free.

Instead, he laced our fingers together.

"What do you think of our first lunch together as a couple?" he asked.

I choked.

"What?"

Did I black out? When the fuck did we become a couple?

Was it because I didn't scream at him earlier? Did he really take my stunned silence as acceptance?

"Do you like the lunch?" Victor smiled innocently. "I got all your favorites. Even your favorite snack."

"You got all the expensive shit. I usually just get—"

"One expensive main and cheap or free sides," he finished for me. "If it's for you, I've got the money for you to not have to choose, Anne."

"You're not some ATM, you know that Victor," I said, trying to talk some sense into him. God, why did I say his name? That always made stalkers worse.

He just beamed like I kissed him.

"How could I not want to spoil you? And on our first day—I have to impress you with what I have," Victor said. "Don't look so scared."

I couldn't help it.

Because I was scared.

And just when I thought it couldn't get worse—

'That's it! That loser is done!' Lara's voice thundered in my mind from outside the door.

She was still there. Still watching.

And I was so screwed.

Victor wasn't just ruining my peace.

He was dismantling my whole life.

***

I was just trying to get back to class after that nightmare lunch when they cornered me.

Lara and her empty-headed posse.

Perfect. Just what I needed.

This was all his fault. That delusional, obsessive stalker had officially made me the most hated girl in school.

If looks could kill, I'd be buried six feet under in three different places. Lara stood in front like a queen bee in a bad teen drama. The girl next to her looked seconds away from falling asleep, and the last one? Her eyes were glazed over and her head was full of pop music lyrics. Literally. That's all she was thinking about.

Lara folded her arms like I was some kind of threat. "You need to stay away from Victor or else life is going to get real uncomfortable and miserable for you around here."

Ugh.

"And honestly, it's not like you even have a chance anyway. Look at you."

The pop music one jumped in eagerly, like she'd been waiting for the chance to bully someone. "Yeah like, what is up with that eye thing? It's freaky."

I stared at them, already calculating how to get out of this without throwing hands or setting off another chain reaction.

That's when I heard it.

The perfect thought.

"You know," I said slowly, making sure my voice carried, "the reason your boyfriend hasn't been picking up the phone after school? It's because she's been blowing him in his car."

I looked right at Pop Music Girl as I said it.

"Every day. For the past two months."

She blinked. Once. Twice. Then turned toward the sleepy girl, who suddenly didn't look sleepy anymore.

"What the actual fuck, Jackie?!" she snapped.

"You're seriously believing her?!"

"Are you kidding me?! You knew why he was acting weird this whole time!"

Like gasoline on a bonfire, the two of them exploded into a full-on yelling match right in the middle of the hallway. Every head turned.

Beautiful chaos.

I smiled and looked back at Lara. With her backup disintegrating in a very public scene, she didn't have much bite left. Her face had gone tight, like she wanted to scream but couldn't figure out how to salvage the moment.

"You win," I said with a sweet smile. "You can have Victor. I refuse to be part of your little circus act anyway."

That should've been the end of it.

But then Victor's thoughts hit me like a brick wall.

'I'll rip that filthy bitch's throat out. How dare she talk to my sweet Anne like that. How dare that filthy whore look at him? I'll smash her disgusting face against the floor until she apologizes to her! I won't stop until I see blood over her whole fucking face!'

I stiffened.

I'd never heard him think something that dark before. He usually reserved his mental space for awkward flirting and possessive or sexual fantasies—not murder.

That's when he rounded the corner.

Eyes locked on me. Calm smile.

Too calm.

And beneath it?

'I'll break her fucking nose. I'll rip her big fucking mouth open so she can never talk shit to her again! I'll kill her.'

Victor's smile didn't move an inch. The same fake, perfect smile that made teachers adore him and classmates want to be him. He stepped up beside me like nothing was wrong. Like he belonged next to me.

Way too close.

Lara's lips twitched as she forced a smile, trying not to flinch. Her thoughts were spinning.

This had become fake-on-fake violence.

"Everything good over here, Anne?" Victor asked lightly.

"Yeah, we were just talking," Lara said, laughing too quickly. She was wondering if he'd heard what she said earlier. She was more worried about her image than her life.

Victor's mind didn't slow down.

'I'll break her wrists so she'll never be able to use them again. Slam her against the locker until something cracks. Then she'll understand not to touch what's mine.'

I swallowed hard.

"You sure you weren't being bothered, Anne?" Victor asked, eyebrow raised.

I couldn't react too much. Couldn't flinch or pull back. If I did, he'd get suspicious—about my mind-reading. And worse, he'd think I was afraid. Then he'd really start trying to "fix" things.

Talk about being stuck between a rock and a psycho.

"I wasn't being bothered," I said as evenly as I could manage. "We were just talking."

I glanced at Lara, who looked like she wanted to teleport out of her own body. "Sometimes we bump into each other and joke around."

"Exactly," Lara added quickly, her voice higher than usual.

Victor chuckled, a soft sound.

'Now Anne's trying to save her. As expected of my little angel. I should still make her bleed just for approaching her. I'm going to kill this bitch. I'll kill her.'

"Good," he said aloud, then casually threw his arm around my shoulder like we were the best of friends.

"Come on, Anne. There's no need to be a lady to her," he said as he steered me down the hallway.

He hummed softly beside me like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't just fantasized about smearing Lara's blood across every locker in the school.

And maybe I was giving his thoughts too much credit. Maybe he wouldn't actually kill someone.

...But Victor was the type to act on his thoughts.

He already had. With me.

And if he ever snapped in the wrong place, at the wrong time? I didn't think I could stop it.

Which scared me in a whole different way.

This was getting a lot more complicated than I thought.