My Arch Nemesis in my Bed

Three shots of tequila later, I'm on the dance floor dancing with heartless abandon. I dance with a guy from the lacrosse team, then someone else, then someone else. I don't care who they are. I just want to feel something other than this hollow ache in my chest. “Having fun?” Brett from the swim team appears beside me, his hand sliding around my waist as we move to the music. “Tons,” I lie, accepting another drink he presses into my hand. “You look incredible tonight,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my neck. “That asshole Palmer doesn’t know what he just lost.” I should step back. Should know that he’s taking advantage of my vulnerable state. But the alcohol has clouded my judgment, and part of me wants to feel desired after being so thoroughly rejected. “Everyone’s heading to the pool. Come with me.” Before I can fully process what’s happening, he’s leading me through the crowd toward the back patio where a group has gathered around Tyler’s pool. “It’s freezing,” I prote

I don't walk to my last class. I run. My sneakers pound against the linoleum as I sprint down the emptying hallway, earning confused looks from stragglers heading to their final period. I don't care. All I can think about is Ethan's words: three guys waiting for him after school. I burst through the double doors to the parking lot, scanning the rows of cars for Luca's black Jeep. It's not there. My phone is already in my hand, fingers shaking as I pull up his contact. We never text unless it's about household chores or dinner plans, but I tap out a message anyway: Where are you? Three dots appear, then disappear. No response. I call him and it went straight to voicemail. I try again. Same result. Panic rises in my throat as I race back inside, heading for the senior hallway where his last class should be. The door to AP Physics is open, students filing out. I grab Tyler by the arm as he exits. "Have you seen Luca?" He raises an eyebrow. "Aren't you guys not supposed

I stared at my bedroom ceiling, my fingertips still tracing the phantom pressure on my neck. The house had gone quiet after I fled Luca's room, like the air itself was holding its breath. Maybe I was in shock. Maybe I was losing my mind. At that moment, my phone buzzed with a text from Mom. Dad and I wrapped up early. We'll be home tonight instead of tomorrow. Hope you kids didn't burn the house down! Perfect. Just what I needed, our parents walking into whatever supernatural disaster was unfolding under our roof. I launched myself off the bed and into action. There is blood in the entryway. That was priority one. I grabbed cleaning supplies from the hall closet and attacked the dark smears with bleach and paper towels. "Motherfucking werewolf," I muttered, jamming a soaked towel into the bucket. "Couldn't keep his furry ass problems to himself." I moved through the house like a crime scene cleaner, erasing evidence of whatever had happened earlier. The whole time, Luca's d

I stumbled downstairs at seven AM looking like I’d been hit by a truck, which wasn’t far from the truth. The scratches on my door had turned out to be real—four deep gouges in the wood that I’d stared at for an hour before finally accepting they were not stress-induced hallucinations. I traced one with my fingertip, the wood splintered and rough. Whatever had made these marks possessed serious strength—and serious claws. Or whoever. Mom was already at the kitchen island, scrolling through her phone with a cup of coffee in her favorite mug—the one that said “World’s Best Mom” that Luca had gotten her for Mother’s Day last year. “Morning, sweetheart,” she said without looking up. “You look awful.” “Thanks. Really what every girl wants to hear.” I poured myself coffee and added enough sugar to fuel a small aircraft. “Hey, Mom?” “Mmm?” I took a sip, buying time. This conversation was going to go badly no matter how I approached it, but I had to try. I couldn’t spend another ni