I gasped back to reality, plummeting from the dream world and returning to my body. Within my hysteria, I fell off the bed and landed in a pile on the floor where Deshawn once rested. Where was he? What was that?
"Now you know why I hate Marco," Deshawn admitted. I saw that he was sitting on the edge of my bed, a longing look plastered to his face as he looked down on me but I knew he was thinking about his ex-best friend.
Both of my wrists each had the name, Reniella De Vega written on it. Perfectly centered and readable, not dreaming.
"I need to talk to him then," I stated. Marco had an obvious dislike towards Deshawn, a dislike I needed to explore.
 
"Now?" I asked quietly. My throat felt scratchy."Why not?""Because I know Ross, I've known him forever. It's weird."He shrugged.I stared at Deshawn for longer. The Zobel College uniform that he wore looked just as perfect now as when I first saw him. Freshly washed and perfectly pressed. He was the poster boy for Zobel College.I reluctantly rose from my huddle of blankets on the bed and to the wardrobe where I changed into my outfit of the day.Then, I grabbed my phone and left the house, making my way to the bus stop. I'd given the keys to Ross's brother's car back t
"Seriously, Ross? Weed? It's like 11 am," I asked incredulously. He chuckled before blowing the smoke out once again, attempting to make shapes with his mouth. "I'm only using up the last ones in the tray, don't worry about it, Bambi." "You're a mess." "I can quit," he snapped. "If I wanted to, I could stop it all. I just don't feel like it." I rolled my eyes and turned the newspaper page while smoke swirled in the air and mingled with the sweet sun glow. "I didn't say that," I mumbled.
I stared at myself in the mirror. The sparkling purple fabric of Ross's sister's dress clung to my upper body before cascading beautifully right down to my feet. It fit nicely, maybe not as flattering on my chest area as I'd hoped but it was all I had to work with. I'd curled my dark brown hair so that it fell behind my shoulders appropriately and my makeup was light and magic. I felt like an imposter. Like some rich boy's housewife to be. My heart clasped shut and it temporarily stopped beating as Deshawn appeared behind me. Even with my heels, he was taller. The ghost inspected me with an unreadable expression. "What?" I turned around to him in question. "Nothing." He shrugged. "
His thick eyebrows were furrowed and a deep crease buried between the two. His suit was perfectly fitted and made him look charming. Ross's hair, for once, had been tamed by gell that flattened the mess and his black bow tie was cute.I shivered against the cold and my eyes searched for Deshawn. What he'd told me earlier about not understanding himself had intrigued me. Maybe I was too focused on my own issues to sympathize with him. Maybe that was wrong."Let's get you inside." Ross smiled and threw an arm around my shoulders, rubbing the skin to rid me of goosebumps.We didn't make a grand entrance. The two of us had entered from the back doors, passing the well-kept gardens, and slipped into the grand hall from there. Even though we were su
"Marco is in one of the rooms upstairs," a voice whispered beside me. I flinched from the sound but softened when I saw it was Deshawn. He sat on the chair beside me with a sympathetic smile."One thing I don't miss after dying is this bullshit." He laughed bitterly."It seems that everyone here hates going," I commented. "So why keep doing it? Why keep hosting, attending, and feeding into this stupid thing?"He shrugged. "Did you want to catch Marco before he leaves? I saw him run into one of the rooms around the corner and it might be your last chance."I looked down at my wrist to see the writing. I was nervous that people might have noticed the words on my arm but I was fool
I snapped my head to Deshawn and silently begged for him to do something. I was done for at this point. If Marco Arandia thought of me as a threat, he could destroy me. He had enough money and status to bury me alive in lies.Deshawn looked back at me with an equal amount of desperation as he opened and closed his mouth like a blubbering fish. It was clear then that Deshawn didn't know Marco as much as he'd once thought.Suddenly, the sound of Marco's pacing stopped and he paused to glare holes straight through me. He moved slowly my way, like a deadly snake with its prey, and crouched to meet my eyes."Who the fuck do you think you are?" He exploded. Marco's face contorted cruelly, corrupting the child-like features. "I don't know what the bl
He snapped his body around eerily and it looked like he'd lost all restraint. It was as if he was a puppet whose strings were being pulled sadistically. He growled and pulled at the strands of his blonde hair in frustration. The dim light of the lamp-lit shadows on his face and emphasized the dark circles under his eyes and the flared nostrils like a bull.As if the strings had been let go of, he practically fell into my lap and landed a sucker punch to my nose. He was a dirty fighter.Pain shot through my face and a squeak escaped my lips. The hot, crimson blood trickled from my nose as Marco tried to straddle my body, keeping me down. He was crazy. As the blood dripped from my face and onto the poor carpets below, it brought me back to that night. Deshawn's lifeless body, the ambulance screeching, an
Parker wasn't anywhere near, luckily. We seemed to be in the all-clear.We raced down the steps and I needed to find Ross, we had to go home. With a force that I reserved for emergencies, I pushed past people only to see Ross in the same spot I'd left him.A few lingering eyes spotted the tear in my dress and how messy my hair had become. The blood had dried and my eyes were wide with alarm and adrenaline."You look like shit," he commented, amusement written across his face when I approached."Ross, we have to go," I pleaded. Crouching down to his level I noticed how dilated his pupils were and how disheveled he'd become in only a few minutes.