Page 56 of Like A Moth To A Flame

I didn’t mean to scream. Really, I didn’t. She stopped, her lips sucked into her mouth and bitten closed, and her eyes swimming with tears. Now, I felt shame for a different reason.

“S-sorry,” I said, reaching up to wipe a tear off of my cheek. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.

“It’s okay,” she sighed, reaching over and squeezing my knee lovingly. Truly, I knew she was coming from a place of caring and concern. I knew she was simply worried about my safety, and I was so glad for that.

“Come on,” she said, flipping the car off and pulling the keys out of the ignition. “Let’s go watch a damn movie.”

I gave her a grateful smile, and she stopped me when I reached to grab the door handle.

“Just promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Promise me there isn’t gonna be another Harper funeral for a while.”

“I promise,” I said, but my stomach fell.

Was that a promise I could keep?

I let her convince me to walk across the street to the theater. For some reason, even as we crossed the street, I felt like every single eye in the town was on me. I felt like I was wearing my own little scarlet letter. I should not have let her watch that video in public. That was a mistake.

I felt like everyone had seen it now.

I let Amelia pick the movie, and maybe that was a mistake, too. It was some predictable slasher flick, and while normally I would be into it, now I was way too on edge for this. We sat near the front—again, Amelia’s idea. She liked to see everything. Personally, I didn’t want people sitting behind me, but I was a people pleaser, and Amelia was an only child.

Together, we were a match made in hell, but somehow, it worked.

As soon as the lights faded and we were left in shadows, I was nervous. I picked at my popcorn and bloated myself with a soda, trying and failing to keep track of what was happening on the screen. A group of friends had gone back home to visit their small-town families and encountered a cult on the road. It would have been interesting if I wasn’t so damn distracted.

Not twenty minutes into the movie, my phone vibrated in my purse, and immediately my heart was racing. Reaching into my purse, I plucked it out and holding it low to be the least bit distracting as possible, I flipped it on and made sure to turn the brightness all the way down before I checked my notifications.

It was the black heart emoji from last night. When I saw it, my saliva went dry and tacky in my throat.

You look so beautiful. If it was just the two of us, I’d bend you over right here in this theater.

A massive jolt slammed through me, and I jerked my head up, looking around. He was here. He was here right now.

Unfortunately, so were half a dozen other people.

Where are you?

I’m everywhere, Moth.

I looked around again, squinting through the darkness as I fought to see a single damned thing. He’d answered so quickly, yet there was not a single other phone light shining.

Again, another text came through, and the vibration made me jump.

You look so good when you’re scared.

I darkened my phone and slid it back into my pocket. Amelia was looking at me, her eyes narrowed and accusatory.

“The hell is wrong with you?” she whispered.

“Later,” I bit back.

I stole another peek around the theater, trying to identify who was there with us. I could see a gaggle of teenagers, one of my old teachers, and one of the new rookie cops. None of the suspects that I had on a list in the back of my mind.

Just as I turned back to the screen, my phone buzzed again, and I whipped it out of my pocket as if it were on fire. It was anothernotification—this one from Facebook. I barely used it. What could it possibly be? A status comment.

---