Chapter 62

Andy

Peering out into the hallway, it's just a dark, empty corridor that stretches on beyond my sight. I don't recall my house being this big, all that space leading nowhere. The other rooms no longer exist, Gabby's, my parents, the bathroom and even the spare room across from me are all gone, and my mind rationalises that this is how my house always appeared, just one solitary room on the upper level. I turn my head in the opposite direction and notice that the stairs are now missing. Dad used them to start a fire in the backyard, I recall, although I never saw the fire

I pull myself in from the hallway and close my bedroom door, turning the lock to keep intruders out. I feel safer now. Bright lights fill the small space, illuminating the walls that appear to sparkle. I look around the room, but nothing is how I remember it, yet it still holds the familiarity of being mine.

"Drew." Claire's angelic voice echoes through my head, calling out to me. "Drew, I'm waiting for you, baby."

I dropped her home after the meeting, I know I did, yet I can see her, naked and sprawled across my bed, beckoning me in between her legs. As I stalk towards her, I become aware of the fact that I, too, am naked. I swear I had clothes on out in the hall, but now they've vanished completely.

She spreads her legs open, inviting me in, and I waste no time, encasing her tight walls around my cock and pushing myself deep within her. She is the image of absolute perfection, from her dark brunette hair that glistens in the light, her plump, pink lips that she bites down on, her flawlessly rounded tits that bounce with every thrust I give her and her rose-tinted nipples appearing like frosted icing peaks, begging to be sucked. There is no one that compares to the beauty of my Cupcake.

"Baby, I didn't put on a condom," I tell her, not stopping even though I know I should. I can't, if I pull out of her, she may disappear. "We're not protected."

"You're my protection, Drew." She breathless moans, and it's the only explanation I need to keep going.

She doesn't feel like I imagined unprotected sex would, although her grip around me is tight, there's the absence of moisture, surrounding my dick, causing the friction to be rough. Maybe she wasn't wet enough before I entered her? I peer down to where we are moulded together, her wetness sparkles like a rainbow across my dick, the colours so alluring and spectacular.

The bed bangs against the wall in front of us as I slam into her and she cries out, begging me to go harder. I'm giving her my all, and I'm not even tired. This is amazing, I could keep this going all night.

She looks past me and smiles, and when I turn my body, I see that we're not alone, Clint is in the corner, watching us fuck. He's dressed in the Claremont High uniform and holding a bottle of wine. He twists the bottle around, and I catch a glimpse of the label. It's the same wine that Jupiter left in Claire's fridge after the party, the one that belonged to Sebastian.

"What the hell? Get out!" I scream at him, but he ignores me and begins to move in closer until he's standing right behind me, breathing down my neck as he gawks at Claire.

"Would you like to join us?" Claire asks him, not even consulting with me first. What the hell is she thinking? She is disgusted by Clint. Why would she invite him to join us?

"Baby, no, he's killing my boner," I scream, but little good it does because Clint begins taking off his clothes, starting with his shirt. The bottle of wine drops from his hand, hitting the wooden floor with a blasting alarm that rips right through me, tearing me from the nightmare I was stuck in.

I wake to discover my hand is deep within my boxers, clutching my limp dick. I reach across my bed and shut my alarm clock off, silencing the room. It was all a dream, a very scary, hellish dream brought on by my sub concision, manifesting my deepest desire, to fuck my girlfriend because it's now been almost an entire week since we last were intimate and she's all I can think about, then there's Clint, the boy who could be responsible for the attacks, the one who has been under my nose this entire time and it's been playing on my mind since the meeting yesterday afternoon. My stupid brain mashes my two problems together and creates that nightmare.

Stepping outside my bedroom and into the hallway, I'm grateful to see the upstairs part of my house is exactly how it has always been. The bathroom door clicks open, and Gabby wanders out, ever so casually, not a care in the world. Her strawberry blonde hair is damp, and she's dressed in a white blouse and black jeans.

"You look like shit." She comments when she sees me. I guess the nightmare left me more rattled than I thought it did.

"Bad night's sleep," I tell her, opening the linen cupboard next to the bathroom and grabbing a freshly cleaned towel. "I've been thinking a lot about this plan to try and entrap Clint and Elijah, it could get dangerous, and I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you to take part in this, I don't want to put you at risk, Gabs."

"I wouldn't have agreed to the plan if I didn't want to take part, Andy." She points out, using her own towel to wring the moisture from her hair. "Clint is easy to play with, too; he's so desperate for female attention, it's like he has no idea how to talk to women at all."

"I know, it's almost like he has a point to prove." I laugh, thinking of Clint's multiple attempts to pick up women and his growing failures, but he never allows it to set him back; he just keeps going with the same lines.

"Are you picking Claire up this morning, or is she collecting you?" Gabby asks, knowing Claire and I have been taking it in turns to drive to school, just to save on fuel.

"Neither actually, I have soccer practice after school and I didn't want to keep Claire and Heath waiting around the extra hour," I explain, switching the exhaust fan on in the bathroom to clear some of the steam. Gabby is notorious for not turning on the fan, claiming it cools her down too fast when she gets out of the shower. What she doesn't understand is that there are three other people who use the bathroom each morning, and they like not stepping into a sauna.

"I can't believe you're still choosing to play on that team," Gabby says, looking at me like I'm an idiot.

"It's the only way I can keep an eye on Nate and Kyle," I explain. ducking into the bathroom to hang my towel up. "I better get a move on, I don't want to leave Claire on her own, not with those two lurking around."