Page 107 of Tempted By Poison

***

Ipull up to the homeI built; it’s deep in the woods behind the school, tucked between the vines and loose leaves left on the branches. You won’t notice it much since GenCre and the trees block it out.

I exit my truck, the dead leaves crunching and cracking under my shoes. The frigid air burns my cheeks from the slap of the wind. I slam the door shut and make way up the steps, leaving my bags. It's a place I rarely come to because it was intended to be an escape, but I felt more at home when I was at the academy than I did when I was here.

It’s visibly dark when looking at the glass, but once the lights are on you can see clearly into the house—unless the black-out blinds are closed. I prefer either way, but tonight it’ll be open. It’ll be cathartic, absolutely incredible, fucking her under the dark skies and burning stars.

Once inside, I prepare everything because I intend for tonight to be a night she never forgets. She says she's never had this kind of experience, and I’m here to be her first, her first date, her first real, passionate but chaotic kiss. The one to place the rose on her neck because I've never done this either.

Which is why I’m hoping she didn't run off from me.

As I’m grabbing the gift I got for her off my dresser, my phone vibrates to see a message from Mal.

Mal: It turned out great! No blood was spilled. And the lights are ready for you.

I take note of a photo of her beaming halfway into the camera and the background showing the view of the Christmas tree and wonderland set up.

I nod.Good. Because that’s all for them. My students, who so desperately crave a piece of normalcy.

Before I make my way out the house, I walk over past the living room to the table set up and fix the vase, then I place the gift on the edge of the square table. My heart pumps a little harder than normal and a small amount of sweat forms in my hands. I review it, as my bones rattles a tiny bit under my skin.

I’m not a romantic, hell no. But for her, I can try to be. In my own type of way. It's not like I had any example of a loving couple in my childhood, so I have to do whatI thinkshe would like.

I shift on my heels, ignoring my palpitating heart, and head on the trail to the academy. I click on the lanterns as I stroll, remembering to thank Mal when I see her.

It’s a good walking distance and despite the cold ass air, which is numbing my fingertips, the breeze actually chills down my jumpy bones.

I’m not nervous.

She probably left.

That thought has me fear creeping in, and texting Mal quickly.

Me: Have you seen Anita?

Mal: No, I haven't seen her since yesterday. Ask Bedford.

––––––––

That doesn't help meat all. Not one fucking bit. I breathe in the cold air to mask the troubling beat in my heart, but it continues to rise. If she left.

I’ll track her down expeditiously and force her to come back. She's not leaving me. I'm too far gone when it comes to her.

Now my mind is still as I open the double doors at the back of the academy, the music echoes annoyingly in my ears and lights from the decorations radiate the squared windows. The back entrance has an arch of black and white balloons, ornament chandeliers and strings are attached to the ceiling and hanging into the space. The normally dark brown woods transform into shining fairy lights trailing along the baseboard and alcove leading to the main area.

Music thumps louder in my ears, the noise growing louder and louder. The moment I walk into the open area of the ballroom, I'm hit with a wave of teens dancing and other teachers standing around supervising. The large black Christmas tree is set against the wall, tall, broad, and almost as high as the ceiling. Presents of all sizes sit tucked under its limbs, wrapped in only black silver or white.

I walk further in with my hand clasped behind my back scanning the room to see if I find a black angel standing in the shadows somewhere.

“Headmaster Ronan,” Dean Cabale chimes skipping up beside me. I look at her out of respect, but I want to keep looking forher. Cabale’s eyes are wide, and her lips spread with an overly bright cheer. Her coil hair brushes up against her cheeks and forehead as her head shakes from excitement.

“You have done a great job, sir. Thank you, it turned out superb.”

Don’t thank me, thank the one person that convinced me and also the designers. They probably won’t be coming back after I had specified for each other to be blindfolded on the way here and back and only allowed in one area.

“It was for the kids. But thank Ms. Velz she was the one who made it happen,” I say, directing my gaze away, and I continue scanning the room hoping she pops up.

Nothing.

---