by Kayla Krantz
“—and I’m sure David will let me stay over,” Chance rambled on from the desk behind her.
Luna tried her best to block it out, to save her sanity. Only five minutes until lunch. She honestly had no idea what he was even talking about at the moment. She had managed to successfully ignore most of his ramblings. She guessed he would say anything that came to mind, desperate to get a reaction from her.
“Maybe I could even spend the night, who knows,” Chance said, frowning at the back of her head. “Hey, are you listening?”
Four minutes, Luna thought to her herself, squeezing her eyes shut for a long moment. Four lousy, drawn-out minutes.
Chance stared at her, but despite everything, she still ignored him. He picked up his pencil and turned it in his fingers.
Luna bit her lip, not knowing how else to express her frustration. One minute left. One measly minute, but it seemed the longest one yet. Finally, the bell! She grabbed her books and hurried out of the room with Chance right behind her. She wanted to talk to Violet. She had seen surprisingly little of her friend since she and Max had visited her house on Saturday.
Luna got her lunch, and Chance clung to her in the line again. She searched for Violet, but to her surprise she didn’t see her friend. It wasn’t like her to take a day off of school, but maybe she had finally fallen asleep. Crestfallen, Luna sat down at the nearest table and picked at her food with her cheap plastic utensils.
Apparently, Chance sensed the mood change. “Are you okay?”
She ignored him as she put a tiny bite of the cheap food into her mouth. Why bother answering? Her and Chance were alone again.
***
VIOLET CAME TO lunch twenty minutes late, thanks to Ms. Sable. She had yelled at her for her less-than-average grades, which Violet had argued were the best she could do since it had been too many days to count of no sleep. When Violet entered the cafeteria, she noticed Luna and Chance sitting together at a table by themselves.
Luna picked despondently at her food, not bothering to look up. Chance sat close beside her, watching her. He had a tray in front of him as well, but for the time Violet watched, he didn’t seem to eat any. It was creepy, the way he shadowed her; Violet could see that all the way across the room. She wanted to go over there, talk to her best friend, and help her get away from that mental freak.
Violet remembered back to Saturday, when he had threatened her—or rather, had cut her, as her memory carefully reminded her. He may be mentally unstable, but he was also serious. Her cut burned at the memory; she couldn’t image the pain of it being the last thing she’d ever feel.
She stood there, contemplating between sitting with her friend and choosing a table on the other side of the room. A spot where she knew she’d be safe. She took a step toward Luna’s table but stopped again. Besides appearing depressed, her friend seemed otherwise okay. Violet stared at her for a moment longer before she turned away to head to another table.
She was ashamed for once again choosing herself over her friend, but fear made her think that avoidance might be the best choice she had. It was no different than Luna refusing to press charges against Chance.
Sometimes the logical solution didn’t always seem like the best one.
***
LUNA HADN’T WANTED Chance to give her a ride home from school. She insisted on walking home, but he had somehow managed to get her in the truck anyway. She pouted the entire way, hoping maybe he’d get tired of her, but he drove her home despite her foul mood. When they got there, Luna hopped out of the truck before it had even slowed down all the way.
“Hey, wait for me!” he called after her.
She didn’t listen as she ran toward the house. Her father looked at her from his place on the couch as she busted through the door, his forehead crinkling in thought.
“Luna, are you okay?”
“I’m just peachy,” she replied bitterly. He didn’t care either way as long as she followed his orders. No matter what Luna said, her dad would verify it with Chance. Luna didn’t understand why people always seemed more likely to believe something if Chance told them.
She stormed into the kitchen and threw her backpack down on the table. Glancing out the window as she stood there, she watched Chance get out of his truck. He seemed to be taking his time. Luna’s attention wandered to her open door longingly, and she felt for the small flip phone in her pocket. She needed to talk to Max, and she might not have another opportunity to do so.
Without wasting another second of her precious time, she rushed to her room and slammed the door then plucked the phone and dialed the number as quickly as she could manage. She held it to her ear as it rang. Each ring seemed to drag out.
“Hello?” Max finally answered.
“Max,” Luna said, shoulders slumping in relief at the sound of his voice. “I need to tell you—”
Suddenly, a hand ripped the phone out of her own before she could finish her sentence. She spun around to see Chance glaring at her with all of his rage as he held the phone up to his face.
“She can’t talk to you. Don’t ever call her again or I’ll find you,” Chance snarled without moving his eyes off of her. He slammed the phone shut and crammed it into his pocket.
Luna frowned and glared at him, jutting out her chin. “Why’d you do that? Max is my friend. You can’t do this!”
“You know you’re not supposed to be on the phone when you’re grounded…especially with him,” Chance said, and he spat Max’s name as if he were a disease.
“What do you have against Max?” she asked, curling her lip. “He’s my best friend.”
He looked back at her, seemingly unfazed by her anger. “I don’t see why.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“I don’t want you around him anymore,” he stated, matter-of-fact with his chin and eyebrows lifted.
Luna cocked her head to the side, the corner of her lip twitching in irritation. “What, are you my father now? You can’t tell me what to do even if David says otherwise.”
“I’m your supervisor, remember? As long as you’re grounded, my word is your law,” he taunted. “If you don’t want to listen to me, then David will tell you to do the exact same thing that I do. You know how easy it would be to get him to forbid you from talking to Max? All I have to do is tell him he’s the reason you started drinking.”
“You wouldn’t dare do that to me.”
“You know damn well I would. Now, hear me out, and we won’t have any more problems. As long as you’re grounded, you’re forbidden to talk to Max.”
Luna looked up at him and scowled. He could try to change her whole life, but he couldn’t get her to stop talking to Max forever. He may have won this time, but she’d win the next round.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Chance snorted as he looked down at her. His voice softened, if only slightly. “You can talk to me about anything that’s bothering you. You don’t need him.”
She sighed and turned away. His words had been meant as kind, but they filled her with anger. She needed to talk to Max, not this arrogant, crazy piece of work! Without Max, she couldn’t think of a way to stop Chance’s miserable, haunting dreams. There was no way she could talk to Chance about them. He wouldn’t help her take himself down.
“No, I can’t talk to you,” Luna said bluntly.
Another thought crossed her mind. Did the dream dog still roam their land, free? If it did, it still hunted Max. He’d still be in danger no matter where he went. She remembered the nasty gash he had shown her yesterday. Did Chance want her to stay away from Max so his dogs could kill him?
Or was it already too late to save Max from sharing Kate and Susan’s fate?
***
MAX STARED AT the phone, which had gone dead in his hand. That voice…that cruel, malicious voice…had sounded a lot like Chance. Could it be? Could he have gotten to Luna in the time he had left them alone? Max frowned, wondering what had happened to his friend when he left. H
e decided maybe he didn’t want to know; whatever happened was nothing good.
He found himself wishing with all his might that his tiny friend would be okay. If not, well, then he would have to fight Chance on his own and one-on-one against Chance, he didn’t have a prayer.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
TWO DAYS HAD passed since the voice on the other end of the line had disconnected Max from Luna. He had called every hour, hoping Luna would answer, but she didn’t. Something was wrong. The past few days, he had watched the news for signs of a missing girl, a familiar girl. But to his relief, there was nothing new. The Susan girl was still missing, but he expected it. Max picked up the phone again. He didn’t dial Luna’s number but rather stared at the phone.
Am I really doing this again? he thought to himself. Then, almost hesitantly, he decided. Yes.
He dialed her number and held the phone to his ear. It rang and rang, six times at least; he finally just hung it up. She obviously wasn’t going to answer again.
He had a thought. For a minute, he considered calling Violet but shot it down for two blaringly obvious problems—he didn’t know Violet’s number, and she hadn’t been involved in that stuff.
Only one option remained. If he wanted to know whether Luna was truly alright, he’d have to go see for himself. He hadn’t gone outside since he had been at Luna’s, when Chance had showed up. He needed to face his fears, his demons—which in this case meant the Rottweiler he had pulled from DreamWorld.
He shuddered at the thought of it but headed toward the door despite himself. He had to know if Luna was okay—he had to. If the situation were reversed, Luna wouldn’t be too scared to seek him out. He would do the same for her; they had to stick together.
He opened the front door and peered nervously up and down the street. Then, he kicked himself. Dream version or not, all dogs could smell fear. He knew he must be emitting it the way the old comic strips drew green lines from something that stunk. Max “manned himself up”—as Luna would’ve called it—and headed outside. The heavy door closing behind him seemed to reassure him he couldn’t go back. He walked as calmly as he could toward the bus stop. It was a long walk—and an even longer ride—but not impossible. He tucked his hands in his pockets and kept walking.
About a mile from his house, he heard it. The deathly, haunting howl of the dream dog. It sounded far away, but that didn’t matter. It knew he wasn’t safe, tucked away in his house. Max clenched his hands into fists in his pockets to try and calm himself.
The howl sounded again…was it closer? Clench, unclench, clench, unclench. Max found himself walking faster, but there were no stores he could run into to hide, no houses for protection, only one long road with seemingly no cars and only woods to surround it. Cold, unwelcoming woods.
The eerie howl sounded again, accompanied by a bush rustling nearby. The dog had found him, and Max’s attempt at calming techniques couldn’t keep the fear at bay anymore. He began to trot—Hell, full out run—away from the sound, though it would do him no good. When he ran, the bushes on the edge of the trees across the road exploded as the large, mangy dog jumped through them. Max didn’t have to look at it to know it was there, to know from the moment it had seen him in DreamWorld that it wanted nothing more than to tear his flesh right off of his bones.
Max tried speeding up, but the dog already nipped at his heels. It lunged, clamping onto the back of his thigh to injure the leg he depended on. Max winced in pain. He was angry at himself that he had allowed the dog to bite him twice. The weight of the unrelenting hound knocked him off of his feet.
He rolled onto his side in the grass as the dog let go of his thigh. Max could see it sniffing at him. It was the dream dog all right. The freshly-made scars and missing hair from the shards of his window glass impaling it made him sure of that. The creature searched for his throat to deliver the death bite. Max’s eyes widened in panic. He wouldn’t let himself be taken out—not like this. His heart pounded in his chest, rushing the blood so quickly through his veins that he could hear it pulsing in his ears. This was a real life-or-death situation, and he intended to come out on top.
As the dog neared him, Max swung out, his hand close enough to strike the dog’s nose. What should have felt like warm, furry flesh beneath his hand turned out to be nothing. He watched, horrified, as his hand swung through the nose, and the dog’s whole face shifted like it was made of mist.
Max stared at it; in all of his knowledge of DreamWorld he had never seen something like that happen before. Once the dog’s face re-adjusted, and the mangy black fur realigned properly, Max was stunned to see the murderous gleam in its eyes so like its master; pets were like their owners, it seemed.
The dog lunged at his throat and he had no way to protect himself from its razor sharp teeth.
***
LUNA SAT ON her bed, untangling her wet hair with her fingers as she decided what she would wear. Saturday morning had come once again, and a whole week of being grounded had passed. It had been the hardest week of her life. After that, she felt like she could survive anything.
She had heard the front door close ten minutes ago while she had been in the shower. Chance was already present. She frowned; she’d have to deal with him all day since school didn’t exist today to keep them apart. Luna stayed in her room until her father made her confront Chance. She didn’t know how she’d handle an entire day of him.
She got up and moved over to her closet with the fluffy towel clutched around her. She wanted to throw something on before Chance decided to come and check on her. She pawed through the clothes hanging in her closet and eventually settled on a blue t-shirt and light gray pants. She pulled them on quickly, dropping the towel to the floor.
“Luna!” She recognized her dad’s voice call from the other room.
She sighed and hopped off her bed to cross the room. Had Chance made up another story about her being bad? Luna opened the door and went into the kitchen. Like before, her father stood there with Chance sitting in a chair beside him. Déjà vu hit her like a truck, and she didn’t care for it.
“Yeah, Dad?” she asked, glaring at Chance.
He smiled at her sweetly in response, and she rolled her eyes. She forgot when he was around her father he became a ‘good boy.’
“I talked to Chance, and I’ve decided you’ve been grounded long enough,” he said, and a scrunch of his eyebrows showed a lingering touch of concern.
Momentarily, her face brightened. She hoped he wasn’t lying. “Really?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows as she felt the tension leave her body.
“Don’t look so eager,” Luna heard Chance mutter. He stared down at the table.
Her dad nodded. “But if I ever catch you with alcohol again, you’ll be on a one-way plane to Egypt.”
She took a moment of mental preparation to push away the irritation but flashed him a fake grin anyway. She didn’t want to say something that would end up making him change his mind.
“Of course, Dad.”
“Good.”
Chance stared at her through narrowed eyes. It worried him, not having the ability to monitor her every movement. He probably worried she would try to get in contact with Max again, which was exactly what she planned to do.
Luna looked at her dad and noticed him looking at Chance as well. She held her hand out to him and, grudgingly, he dug in his pocket to hand her back her phone. She couldn’t keep her pride out of her gaze as she clutched it tight.
“Luna, don’t you have something to say to Chance?” her father asked before she made it out of the room.
She winced at the question. It didn’t matter what her father would think of her answer because she had to deal with Chance, not him. His blue eyes stared at her as he leaned back in his seat, his eyebrows raised as he watched her. Obviously, he thought she would thank him for looking after her. Gazing at him now, she felt no gratitude. Only one thought came to mind. She had wanted to say it ever since he had shown up “drunk.”<
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“You can go home now,” she said happily and turned to leave the room.
***
HOURS HAD PASSED since Luna had been ungrounded, but she still didn’t feel quite free. Not yet, anyway. She sat in her room, staring out the window as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky. To her annoyance, Chance hadn’t left. He still sat in the living room, talking to her dad, she guessed as a way to stall.
She wanted to call Max, but Chance had drained the minutes on her cell phone. She knew he had done that on purpose. Her thoughts focused on the landline in the kitchen. Although she was allowed to use it, Chance would surely find a way to make her hang up again. So, she had to bide her time and wait for him to leave. She felt like a prisoner with one shackle still stuck to the wall.
So close…but so far away.
Chance knew what she wanted to do, and she guessed he planned to stall time as long as he could. He had to go home sometime, though, even if he didn’t want to. She tapped her fingers on the desk as her patience wore thin, and in the other room, she heard the springs in the armchair as Chance stood up.
“See you later, Chance,” she heard her dad say, followed by the sound of the front door.
Luna smiled—the coast was clear. She stood up, crossed the room to the door, and peered into the living room. Her father still sat on the couch, watching TV—no surprise there—and Chance was nowhere in sight. She walked through the kitchen to where the phone sat, a forlorn shape on the wall. She picked it up and quickly dialed Max’s number.
The last thing Chance had said to him still rang in her head, and she felt horrible that she hadn’t been able to apologize for it. What did Max think? Did he think Luna felt that way about him or did he know better?
The phone rang twice before she recognized Max’s mother’s voice on the other end of the line.
