Page 301 of Ominous: Part 1
Eden is staring at the cement, water still slicing a trail down her shirt, dripping off the back of her denim jacket.
“Eden, baby.” I drop my hand to my side and curl it into a fist.
She doesn’t look up.
“Let’s go up, okay?” I step closer, and Luna sucks in a breath, but I ignore her. My focus is wholly on Eden. “Come on. I’ll help you get back to our room, let’s lie down together.” My face still stings, but I see tiny halfmoons by her eyes, from my hand on hers when I held her under.
We’re even.
I watch the slender column of her throat roll as she swallows. Then, slowly, she nods. “Okay,” she whispers.
I step closer.
She tips her head up, her blue eyes on mine. “Okay.” Her brows pull together, and I think she’s going to cry.
I reach for her, pulling her to my chest.
She flinches, but she lets me, and though she doesn’t hug me back, she sobs against my heart.
I know what she’s thinking. It’s the same thing I’m thinking.
We’ll probably kill each other before this is all over.
47
Eden
Sebastian’s room is a mess,and from the television speakers, the theme song forHarry Potterplays.
I kick aside a haphazard pile of laundry—probably dirty, based on the state of things—and he presses play, slunk down in the bean bag chair in the far corner of his room.
It smells faintly of weed in here, but I don’t care. He texted me to come watch a movie with him, and twenty-four hours after fighting with Eli in the pool in Virginia, I don’t want to be alone.
Janelle dropped me off this morning after a silent, too-long ride. Mom waved at Luna, in the front seat. Luna didn’t get out, still hungover, maybe a little afraid of me. But that single wave from Luna back to Mom bought me more time to lie to my parents.
I just don’t know if I want to anymore. I can still feel Eli’s nail marks in my skin, and I wore makeup to cover them.
“You can take the bed.” Seb’s smile is wide, and as the TV flickers over his features, I see his eyes kind of look weird. Not red, like he’s high. Something else. I don’t know.
I cross his room in my Slytherin socks and grab a folded-up blanket from the foot of his bed as I settle against his pillows.
“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve watched Potty.” He starts laughing at his own joke. As I pull the beige blanket up to my chin, I’m laughing, too, but it doesn’t feel real.
The movie starts, from the very beginning, and I’m grateful. The first two Harry Potter books and movies are child’s play. Easy watching. Then the rest are like a downward plunge into hell or something, and I don’t want anything heavy. It’s hard for me to watch scary movies, or emotional ones. Sometimes I even avoid books like that. It seems to trigger my anxiety.
I try to focus onThe Sorcerer’s Stoneeven though my phone lights up under the blanket with texts from Janelle, Luna, and Amanda every so often. Janelle asked if I was okay and sent me a video I haven’t watched, probably something funny. Luna asked if I needed a Xanax. Amanda allegedly wants to see me again.
But I feel exhausted just thinking of trying to open up to them, and Seb has his eyes glued to the screen and out of some sort of respect, I keep mine there, too. It’s nice spending time with him like this.
But it doesn’t last long.
When Harry’s getting put on the spot by Snape in Potions, Sebastian seems to sort of… jump, in his chair. I hear theswooshof the beans, and I startle a little as I turn to face him.
My blood runs cold.
He’s staring straight up at the ceiling, the column of his throat exposed, his fingers digging into the sides of his chair.
It takes me a minute to catch my breath, to feel brave enough to speak in the dark. “Seb?”
