Oh yeah, I was definitely pathetic.
This weekend was going to be different though. I was going out. Charisse had made me promise to hit some parties. I dreaded it, but I’d already agreed in a moment of weakness.
I snorted. Who was I kidding? All of my moments felt like moments of weakness.
Social situations like that were my Achilles’ heel.
I would just have to grin and bear it. Besides, I owed Charisse. She’d done so much for me over the past month, even making me bingewatch Netflix with her to cheer me up.
So, I would go and try not to look too miserable.
It wouldn't be easy, but I was getting better at it. I could just pretend I was back in high school, and pin a smile on my face. Though the truth was, I had never even gone to a keg party back home. Not one.
Just blend in. Hide in plain sight.
Be invisible.
Fade away.
Chapter 23
Dean
I dreamed about her that night. That was nothing new. I felt like I’d spent half my life dreaming about her.
But this time it was different. This time I had a purpose, and as soon as I knew I was in the dream, I did something I’d never dared to do before.
This time I went to her.
Like the other dreams, I was lucid. I didn’t wake up in chains. I woke in my own bed, in the athlete housing complex. Before I knew it, I was outside, walking through campus.
Well, ‘walking’ was relative.
My steps were so broad that each one traversed fifteen feet or more. I felt strong, invincible even. I felt like I was somehow more than.
Something bigger than myself. Stronger. Braver.
And I was searching for the one person who would see it.
I might be cursed, but Krista knew me. She would understand. I hoped she would anyway.
My feet carried me inevitably toward her dorm. I didn't even have to think about which way to go. She drew me, almost as if she was a magnet. As if I were an animal on the hunt who had caught her scent. But not to kill her.
To be with her.
It was more than just an animal attraction. I felt driven to be as close to her as possible. To combine with her, on a spiritual level. To conjoin.
To absorb and be absorbed.
I stared up to a window on the third floor, sensing that she was inside. I blinked and I was inside her room, staring down at her delicate body, twisted in a homemade quilt.
I wondered briefly if dream sex would be as fun as real sex. Or even more fun.
Either way, I was definitely wanting to crawl into that bed with her. Not until she was aware of my presence though. I already felt a bit like a creeper.
A dreamcreeper. Nice, Dean.
I smiled tenderly at the picture she made. She slept in the same white nightgown that I remembered from before. She looked delicious, her face softened in sleep, her long legs tangled up in her mismatched sheets.
This time it was me who reached out and pressed my hand against her chest.
Immediately her eyes opened, looking adorably surprised. She wasn't frightened though. She smiled when she saw who it was.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
I took her hand and pulled her into my arms. She felt warm and soft and alluring as hell. I brushed her hair back and kissed her.
Her soft lips parted underneath mine. I pulled her even closer, my arms holding her tightly against me.
She kissed me back, then pulled away. She looked worried. I didn’t want to let her out of my arms.
“Let me kiss you. I’m sorry. For everything.”
“It’s not that.”
“What then?”
“I have to tell you something, Dean. Something I never seem to remember when I wake up.”
“What?”
“They’re after—”
In an instant I was back in my own bed, covered in sweat. Her cut off words started to fade from my memory. I could remember almost every other detail about the dream, from the warm feeling of her skin underneath my palm, to the lack of decorations on her side of her dorm room, to the feeling of the cool night air on my skin as I travelled across the campus.
I also understood something new.
The feeling I had in the dream was still with me, but stronger than before.
Touching her in the dream had changed me. Again. It felt like another door had been unlocked inside me, and God only knew what was rushing through.
Raw power. Anger. Need.
I felt powerful, more alive than ever before. I felt something inside me surging. Heat, vitality, desire.
At practice that morning, I was unstoppable. I ran circles around my teammates until they started to look at me differently. I saw fear and respect in their eyes. Coach pulled me aside and said that if I kept it up, I’d be starting.
The first Freshman starting quarterback in the league.
Ever.
Old Dean would have been thrilled. Honored. Humbled.
But new Dean wasn't like that. I just took it as my due. I knew without a doubt that I deserved it. The new Dean wasn't just top dog. I was the top dog.
I was the Alpha.
Chapter 24
Krista
"Excuse me."
I scooted backwards as a group of girls moved past me down the hallway. I watched them go, feeling like I was on a nature special. The girls at this party all seemed to move in packs, like wild dogs.
Pedigreed dogs with diamond collars and chips embedded under their sleek fur.
Speaking of dogs… a group of guys in backward baseball caps seemed to trail after the girls. I overheard a few of the things they were saying. Mostly the word 'hot' and 'ass.' One of them said he wanted to 'git some.'
Ew.
So this was a frat party.
What the heck was I doing here again?
I sighed, staring at the rows of blonde girls that seemed to line the walls. I felt more out of place than ever. Apparently, Charisse was thinking about joining a sorority, and this was an open invitational.
The girl who had greeted us at the door had explained it all, making it seem like we were lucky to be there. Usually it was Greeks only. I sipped my tepid beer and resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
'Open invitational' apparently meant bad beer and a vile punch that I wouldn't even get close to. This wasn’t a party. It was my worst nightmare.
Charisse on the other hand seemed to be entirely in her element. She was smiling and laughing, making friends so quickly it made my head spin. My roommate knew this world and wanted to be part of it. Even if that meant dragging me along with her.
Apparently, I was her wing-woman.
She'd even dressed me up. Charisse gave me a pair of stretch jeans that she said she couldn't fill out well enough. A ruffly silk top in dark green completed the look.
The whole outfit was a gift, just cast off clothes that Charisse thought would look better on me. She said it like it was no big deal. As if designer clothes grew on trees.
Who knows? Maybe in Charisse's world, they did.
To be honest, I was not sure what to make of my roommate most of the time.
Charisse was superficial and overly concerned with fitting in, but she was also smart as a whip. She got good grades seemingly without trying. And she seemed to know everything about everything.
She was exceedingly generous with me, doling out clothes and makeup and unsolicited advice left and right. She had made it her personal mission to draw me out of my shell.
The crazy part was that I didn’t mind. I even appreciated it. I knew Charisse meant well and had a big heart, despite my first impressions.
But Charisse was also part of this world, and it was time for me to make my exit. There was no point in staying here and torturing myself. My roomie was fine.
My wing-woman duties had been fulfilled.
I knew I would never be comfortable here, no matter how much flat beer I drank. E
veryone either stared at me or ignored me completely, as if I were a part of the wallpaper.
Speaking of which…
Two frat guys who had been staring at me came over with a six pack of imported beer. One of them was pretty cute. His friend was tall and thin and gawkish. The cute one wore a baseball cap, facing forward thankfully.
I reminded myself not to judge people based on appearance. After all, I hated it when people did that to me.
And they always did.
"Hey, you look lonely over here all by yourself."
I raised an eyebrow.
"You mean out of place?"
They were staring at me like I was a bug on the wall. I was about to excuse myself when I caught my roommate smiling and giving me a thumbs up. I sighed, finally realizing what the term ‘taking one for the team’ meant.
Besides, I really shouldn’t leave her here alone. Not to mention the text messages I was trying to ignore that had been showing up all day. Dean had decided to talk to me again, just like that.
Well, I wasn’t having it.
The cute one offered me a beer and I took it, removing the top myself. I wasn't stupid. Bottled beer was safer at a college party. It was smart to keep an eye on your own drink, and your friend’s. All the time.
Everyone knew that.
Baseball cap guy looked a little dazed as he leaned against the wall.
"No, man. You're gorgeous."
The other guy nodded, still staring at me.
"Yeah man. Different.”
I cringed. That was the one word that people always used to describe me. For once I would like someone to call me ‘smart’ or even ‘pretty’ without qualifying it.
I.e. ‘You seem pretty smart for a hick.’
"I'm a typical college freshman. Not exactly exotic.”
"Yeah. Cool."
He nodded at me like an idiot but the cute one wasn't as stupid. Baseball cap guy elbowed him. Hard.
"Shut up Harry. You sound like an idiot."
He grinned at me, holding out his hand.
"I'm Luke. This is Harrison. Harrison, go get us some more beer."
Harrison did as he asked while Luke explained the frat hierarchy. Harrison was an underclassman. Luke was a senior. So he got to order him around.
Luke turned out to be smarter than he looked. Polite even. He sent Harrison to get a couple of folding chairs for us to sit in. He even took off his baseball cap, like a true gentleman.
I was well aware that I was getting hit on. But he wasn't trying to get me drunk or drag me off to his room. It seemed harmless, pleasant even.
So I let it happen. Why not, right?
Got to go with the flow, Krista.
Luke wasn't Dean. Not even close. But he was easier to talk to than I’d expected. And I was flattered by his obvious interest.
So when he offered me another beer I shrugged and said something I probably shouldn't have.
"Why not?"
Chapter 25
Dean
Where was she?
I’d been texting Krista since I got up. So far she hadn’t responded. But I knew she had read them. It was stupid of her to ignore me like this.
She had no idea that she was poking a bear.
I sat at the kitchen table, eating my takeout wings and drinking a beer. Somehow there was always beer in the fridge. It seemed like I was always drinking lately. And eating. I seemed to burn through the calories twice as fast as before.
New Dean needed more fuel. Plus, if I got drunk enough, maybe I could sleep deeply. Maybe I would not dream.
‘Dream.’ What a joke. What a safe, nice little word. And so far from the truth.
I hadn’t dreamwalked in days. Now every night I spent hours being torn apart and put back together as someone else.
Something else.
Dream was too nice a word for what had been happening lately. I’d been having increasingly horrific nightmares.
I was lucid for every torturous moment of the transformation that came over me. My bones lengthening, my skin changing, my mouth morphing forward into the shape of an animal's muzzle lined with viciously sharp teeth.
My keen awareness that only one person could help me. The one person who I’d chased away.
And I was too afraid she might never take me back.
"Come on man, let's go out. My bro is having a party."
I shrugged and pushed my food away, following Chuck out of the suite. I had been avoiding the guys and the party atmosphere. Tonight, it was quiet though.
Everyone had found someplace else to get their jollies.
It probably had something to do with me. I hadn’t said a word. But they could tell I wanted to tear their heads off. Not metaphorically.
Literally.
But a party? Why the hell not. Just another place to get drunk. To blot out the painful reality that was tearing me apart.
It was starting to rain as we walked through campus to the row of frat houses just beyond. Random dudes were not welcome at these parties, but as athletes, we were invited just about everywhere.
I stood outside the house with my beer, letting the water soak me to the bone.
"Your beer is getting watery."
A cute redhead was smiling at me, ignoring the fact that her top was getting wet.
Actually, maybe that was deliberate.
"Come inside, silly. I’ll help you get dry.”
I brushed by her, and went inside the crowded frat house. I ignored the redhead who was sticking to me like static cling. I grabbed a bottle of booze off the bar and started drinking straight from it.
No one complained. Even if they had, I didn’t care. Nothing mattered. I was numb to it all.
Until I saw her.
I stood there, dripping water all over the floor. I could hardly believe my eyes.
She was here.
Krista was here.
I’d been worried about her, thinking she was sad and angry. Thinking she missed me. But no. She was at a freaking frat party.
Getting hit on, no less.
Krista was sitting in a lawn chair on the landing halfway up the stairs. She was laughing at something a bro with wavy blond hair was saying to her. She was lit up, looking even prettier than usual, which was saying a lot.
The flirtatious look on her face was like a knife in my gut.
I knew, I knew that she had every right to move on. I’d been the one who started the conversation that ended things. But that was a rational voice. My other voice was much, much louder.
The voice that spoke in grunts and growls.
That voice wanted to tear this guy's throat out.
I was across the room and up the stairs in two shakes, staring down at them.
"What are you doing here?"
She looked surprised to see me at first. Almost happy. Then her expression changed to one of hurt. In a split second, her face had shuttered.
Closed for business.
At least, for me.
Yeah, I’d blown it with her. Maybe for good. But that didn’t mean I was going to let some swine take a crack at her.
Not on my watch.
I stepped closer, until my knees were practically touching hers.
"You don't belong here, Krista."
She wouldn't look at me. She looked embarrassed. I hated seeing her look upset. But it was even worse to see her trying to disappear into her lifted shoulders. She looked humiliated.
Dammit.
The imbecile next to her stood up.
"Hey man, back off. She's my guest."
I didn't recognize my own voice as I turned to face the guy. I was filled with visions of him touching her. Kissing her.
More.
“Did you touch her?”
The guy looked taken aback by my tone of voice. Then he stood up straighter like he thought he stood a chance. All frat boy swagger.
Oh boy did he have another thing coming.
“You need to back off, man.”
; I stepped closer until we were almost chest to chest. He flinched. I didn’t.
“Says who?”
“My name is Luke and I live here. Who the hell are you?"
People were gathering around us, eager for a fight. Chuck tried to step between us, but I shouldered him away. I wanted to fight. I wanted to do more than that.
The darkness inside me threatened to spill over and swallow me up.
"Come on Dean, it's not worth it. Plenty of fish in the sea, remember?"
"It? You mean 'her.' She's a freaking human being. And she's mine."
Chuck shut up when he saw the look on my face. I knew I was snarling. I had a very, very thin hold on my self-control. I had a feeling it was about to snap.
"Hey man, it's a free country. She can talk to whoever she wants to."
The idiot actually grinned at me. Like this was a game.
"And she wants to talk to me."
Even Krista tried to talk some sense into the guy.
"Luke, don't. I'll go. Okay, Dean?"
I gave her a dark look and she paled. I was breathing heavily, trying to decide if I should throw the little pissant down the stairs or just choke him where he stood. I remembered the way Krista had smiled at Luke and the decision was made.
Choking. Definitely choking.
I reached out and grabbed Luke's throat, lifting him off his feet. People tried to pull my hands away but I was too strong. It was like dusting ants off a blanket at a picnic.
Easier.
I snarled at the surprised look on the frat boy's face. He clawed at my hand on his throat. Everyone was shouting at once. Chuck was screaming into my ear but I barely heard him.
"Come on man, you are going to get benched for fighting."
“Does it look like I’m fighting?”
I wasn’t, I was just taking out the trash. I was on the verge of tossing him across the landing when I felt it.
A soft hand on my shoulder. Her voice penetrated the haze of red over my vision. I felt a strange calmness settle over me, washing away the unchecked rage.
Original Witch (Dreamshifters Book 1) Page 7