by Jemma Grey
A Midnight Society Novel
Pretend With Me
Copyright © 2011 Jemma Grey First Printing: 2015 All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reprodu ced o r used in any manner whatsoever without the
express written p ermission of the publisher ex cept for th e use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN: 1511554738 ISBN-13: 978-1511554732 Sometimes you change the way I feel, and sometimes the way I feel
is the darkest place, and sometimes the darkest place is the only place where we could discover something real.
ROBERT. M. DRAKE
Prologue
I stopped outside the bedroom door, hesitating for just a second. Then slowly I raised a shaking hand and pushed the door open, silently praying that by some miracle he would be okay. The door swung open in slow motion and at the same time it filled the room with a loud creaking, ghost-like sound. Instantly the strong scent of blood filled my nose and I choked back the urge to turn and run from the room. My stomach turned as I thought about whose blood it was that I was smelling. I swallowed, forcing my feet to move, to carry me into the room to meet a scene I knew would haunt me.
The moment I saw him, my heart launched off, crashing in my chest violently. I could hear it pounding in my ears and I felt as though my ribcage was going to crack open at any second. Suddenly I could no longer stand there anymore - I couldn’t take it - and I ran to him, collapsing at his side, cradling his head on my lap. Tears streaked down my face, falling onto his head.
My hand flew to my mouth in horror as I took in the sight of all the blood. It seemed to be oozing from every part of his body. I wanted to scream at him - to yell at him for doing this - for getting himself hurt while protecting me.
Suddenly I w as screaming at the top of my lungs. It didn’t make sense, Daren was gone and nothing made sense anymore. I yelled and screamed at the pain exploding inside me. It hurt so much. I just wanted it to stop, but I didn’t know how to make it all go away. My heart was on fire, aching and being twisted and ripped apart. I didn’t know how to deal with him being gone and all I could do was scream. Scream and scream and scream…
How could he leave me? How could he be so stupid and think that, even for a second, I would be okay without him? Daren had left me alone and with nothing. He was gone and I needed him. How could he do that to me? I loved him and he was gone. I would do anything for him; so how could he leave me just like that?
He asked me to trust him and I had. He wanted my love and I gave it to him wholeheartedly, without ever once second-guessing him. When he asked me to marry him, I agreed without thinking twice about it. I would have given him anything he wanted, all he had to do was live - stay alive and be with me. But he was gone. He didn’t fight. Had he held on a few seconds more help would have come. How could he just leave me? Didn't he know that this would break me?
I woke up screaming and to the sound of my mom’s voice as she shook me. My face was wet with tears and, as soon as I realized I was dreaming, I sealed my mouth shut sitting up on the bed.
“Do you want to talk about it?” my mom asked, rubbing the middle of my back, trying to comfort me as she always would every morning I woke up screaming. It never worked; nothing could comfort me.
As always, I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk. It was too painful to talk about. Almost three weeks had passed since that night and I hadn’t talked about it. Not talking was the only way I knew to survive. Not allowing myself to feel the overwhelming ache was the only way I didn’t hang myself from the ceiling or walk in front of a speeding truck or take my dad’s hunting gun and blow a pretty hole through my head. I'd spent hours upon hours
PRETEND WITH ME thinking about all of these things and had I not yet found a way to ease the pain. I knew that I might have done a lot more than just think of these things again.
My mom sighed, squeezing my hand and I knew what her next words would be even before she spoke them; it was the same routine every morning. “Well if you need to talk, I’m here. Remember that, okay?” Silently I nodded. “Breakfast is done, come down when you’re ready.” Again I just nodded without saying anything.
I don’t remember getting ready for school, or even eating breakfast. In fact, I’m not sure I had breakfast, but somehow I found myself standing in front of the school I was now going to.
Just after Daren’s funeral, I had left my West Indian home in Trinidad. I couldn’t live there with my aunt anymore. Everything in Trinidad reminded me of him. Everything there hurt me. My aunt must have seen this because after living with her for ten years, she’d sent me back to my parents without asking questions when I asked to leave.
Without saying anything to anyone I made my way into the school and towards the boys’ lockers. When I reached the correct one and saw that its owner was nowhere around, I took off my bag and sat down in front of the locker, leaning back on its door. I then got out Daren’s iPod and, as I stuck the white earphones in my ears, ‘Pieces’ by a band called ‘Red’ began playing. Leaning my head back on the locker door, I closed my eyes and let the song flow through me.
Not long after Derek - the owner of the locker showed up. “Back for more I see,” he said and I opened my eyes to find him staring down at me with an allknowing look plastered on his face. Derek's dad was a doctor at the local hospital. It put him in a position to successfully stock up on items for his private 'business'.
Without saying anything I stood up and then stepped back, putting a little space between us as I reached into my back pocket, pulling out a handful of crumpled cash. Derek took that as his cue and he stepped toward me, closing the distance I’d put between us. His hand then circled around my waist and pulled my body to him as he bent his head down towards me.
Every part of me stiffened automatically. I didn’t like people touching me - my mom was the only exception sometimes. His lips met mine and instantly guilt and shame flooded me and it wasn’t only because I still felt like I was cheating on Daren even though he was dead.
I felt him slip something small and hard into my back pocket and then he took the money from my hand. As soon as the transfer was complete I pulled away from him and began to walk away. I went directly to the girls’ toilet and the instant I shut and locked the door behind me, I felt my body break apart and shatter.
I was suddenly on the floor dry heaving. My throat was closed up and I couldn’t breathe, air wouldn't enter my body. I still felt the holes in me, throbbing and vibrating with pure agony. Every part of me ached - every cell in my body was alive and pulsing with pain. I pulled my feet up to my chest at the same time that I dug out what Derek had pushed into my back pocket. My hands fiddled with the small white plastic bag as I ripped it open to reveal a tiny clear morphine bottle. In the same second, I dug into my bag and got out a syringe. I then yanked off the cap and pushed the needle into the bottle, filling the barrel with the liquid that would soon save me.
I was tired of pretending. I was exhausted and this was my salvation. The minute I felt it entering my bloodstream, it was like I was in heaven’s comforting embrace. I let the numbness take me over then. I wasn’t hurting or breaking anymore and only that mattered, nothing else.
1
I was sitting at the back of the classroom, not even bothering to appear as if I was paying attention. The teachers here were different from the ones in Trinidad. Here, no one cared what you did as long as you got straight A's and were nothing short of a genius.
I hated it here - the teachers, the other students, the entire fucking school - but I couldn't exactly go back to Trinidad, where there were too many memories I couldn't bear to face and things I was trying so desperately
hard to forget.
Sighing, I turned the volume up on Daren's iPod until it drowned out everything and everyone, only leaving the song playing. That was when I noticed the feeling. It started so mildly that for a while it was almost nonexistent but then it grew and grew until my fingertips began to prickle and tingle as if millions of tiny straw -like needles were being shoved into them.
The feeling seeped throughout my body, running up my arms and along my feet until I could feel it across every inch of me. It was like my entire body was going haywire, on super and hyper alert. My heart was pounding in my chest, my stomach was in tight knots that only clenched tighter as the seconds dragged on and heated shivers racked every part of me. There was a need at the pit of my stomach that kept building and building until suddenly it became something more than a need. The feeling was an intense unsatisfied crave to have something, but I didn't know what. It was painful. Every part of me ached with the strange need pulling me.
Suddenly I couldn't take it anymore and, without saying anything to anyone, I grabbed my bag off the floor, got up and walked out of the classroom. The minute I stood up my head began floating. A thick haze surrounded me and all I could think about was the gripping need clawing at my stomach.
Once in the hallway, I started to walk, blindly following the pulling and tugging on my skin. I felt high - not the numbing morphine high I was used to - this was something different, opposite almost. I walked straight towards the office and pulled open the door, walking dead smack into someone. In the haze and grogginess, I stumbled. But before I could hit the floor two arms shot out towards me, wrapping around my waist and holding me firmly against their owner.
My pores rose at this stranger's touch and the instant his skin met mine the trembling that had so violently shook my body moments ago stopped. Just like switching off a light, the pulling inside of my body vanished and the starving need that had been so intense before subsided.
His arms pulled me closer and tighter to him, making something deep inside me awaken. I could smell him now. Instantly his scent filled my nose and it gave me another dose of whatever drug that had my head spinning.
God, he smelled fucking good. It was like sunshine and sea breeze. Well at least if the sunshine and sea breeze had a scent, they would smell the way he did. At least that was the image that invaded my mind when I breathed him in – midday or early morning at a calm tropical, blue-watered beach, with the breeze wafting gently on your face and through your hair.
Then just like that, I found myself seeing the Mayaro beach in Trinidad. I remembered going there every week with Daren, Kris, and all my other friends - people I couldn't face now - and it was like someone had punched me in the stomach, knocking the breath out of my body. I opened my eyes, not even realizing when I had closed them and the sight before me made me suck in a sharp breath. He was absolutely beautiful. It was like a dream or dying and meeting an archangel.
The first thing I noticed about him was his eyes. He had the most intense and piercing blue eyes that I’d ever seen. It made me think he was looking straight into my soul. Black hair fell from his head messily, but it didn't make him look untidy, just hot. He also had sharp and strong features, perfectly chiseled lips, a sculpted jaw line and a straight nose. This close to my eyes, his skin was flawless. Not a dark spot, scar or blemish tainted his skin and I began to wonder if all his life he'd been covered in bubble wrap. He was around my age - twenty at the very most. His arms were firm on my waist, holding me to him, and strangely enough it didn't feel threatening or harsh or make me flinch like I usually did whenever someone touched me. Instead, his touch was warm and gentle, hard and strong, yet still somehow comforting.
“Um,” he began and a deep frown pierced his face. Hearing his voice was like being wrapped in the most expensive silk that existed and at the sound of it I wanted to melt at his feet.
Struggling to get my head out of the clouds, I blinked a few times trying to dispel the haze. Luckily it worked somewhat and my first thoughts were to thank this kind and lovely stranger for saving me and never see him again. “Um, you can... let me go now,” I said awkwardly, yet didn't move away from him. I didn't really want to.
I couldn't stand people touching me. It reminded me of that night, when my entire life and world went to absolute shit. Sometimes I couldn't help flinching from my own mom, yet I didn't want to leave the arms of this stranger. He almost made me feel comforted and like I was going to survive this - live through the crushing pain and guilt.
The most breathtaking and dazzling smile lit his face and eyes as he straightened himself, dropped his hands at his side, releasing me. For a moment, all I could manage to do was stand there, staring at him completely dazed .
“I think you mean ‘Thank you for saving me from dying of utter humiliation?’” he smirked with a voice that sounded like liquid fire and smooth silk wrapped into one.
“Yes,” I began, smoothing out my clothes and taking another step away from him. “Well thanks,” I muttered and began to walk past him, not sure where I was going or what I was even doing in the office. I had only taken a few steps when he caught my hand, preventing me from going any further.
Immediately I turned around, a mixture of anger and fear coursing through me. My breaths got uneven and rough as his fingers tightened around my wrist. It wasn't painful or forceful, just tight, yet I felt as though he was about to break me. I couldn't do anything, just stand there, barely breathing like a deer in headlights as my heart pounded in my chest.
“I didn’t get your name,” he grinned in overconfidence as though he expected me to fall at his feet. He was used to being chased by girls and I could see why.
“I didn’t give it,” I replied masking the fear with annoyance, as I pulled my hand free, taking a step back. My eyes never left him. I was so confused. I didn't know what these feelings were and how to react to them. One second his touch was comforting and the next it was like everyone else's - threatening.
“Why?” he questioned, smirking.
“I don’t see the point of you knowing my name, we’re never going to see each other again but considering the fact that you saved me from ‘utter humiliation’ and all that, my name ...”
“Jenifer, you can come in now,” another voice said, cutting me off and I turned to the find the secretary waving me forward.
“You – you’re Jen? Your name is Jenifer Carson?” he asked slowly, his frown deepening by the second. I turned back towards him shrugging carelessly.
“Whoa,” he muttered as the half-smirk-half-smile died instantly, replaced by total confusion. Before I could do anything, he opened his chiseled lips, but nothing came out. Finally, after a full minute of him standing there, silently gaping at me he said, “This is guaranteed to be interesting. You’re nothing like I thought…”
My eyebrows rose at this and deciding that he wasn't worth the trouble, I turned away from him and went to the secretary.
“I'll see you in the parking lot,” he called after me.
“Fuck off,” I muttered just low enough for him to hear.
“Hello Miss Carson,” the secretary smiled at me. She was a short, chubby lady, around fifty-five and smelled strongly of cinnamon. “I was just about to page you. Did your mom call you?” My only response was a slight shake of my head. “Oh, well your mom called and she wants you home.”
“Um... did she say why?” I asked in a small voice, silently hoping that nothing bad had happened. There was only so much pain and heartache a person could take, surely by now I had reached my limit.
“No, but she did say it was an emergency and she sent a lovely young man to get you - he just walked out of the office,” she smiled. I nodded and turned around already knowing exactly who the ‘lovely young man’ was.
“Thanks,” I muttered and started for the main entrance of the office that led directly to the front of the school and visitors' parking lot.
Without thinking, I pushed open the doors and the blinding sunlight
bathed me. Instantly I felt a headache flare to life as my eyes threatened to burst into flames and instinctively I got out my sunglasses and flipped them on.
My eyesight was better than the average human’s and therefore much more sensitive. In fact, all my senses were and this was scientifically proven. Doctors were stunned when they did the tests. They couldn’t understand why I could sense things that most other people couldn’t, and this wasn’t the only time I had baffled them either. When I was born, I was really sick and weak. I was given only days to live, but despite everything my parents were told and against the odds, I survived.
Finding the guy wasn't hard. He was leaning at the side of one of the most amazing and expensive cars in the car park and like an idiot, I stood there gawking at it. Another one of his amused smiles lit up his face when he saw me and instantly I snapped the blank mask back on my face. He walked over to the passenger’s side and opened the door for me. I got in and then seconds later he did the same and pulled out of the school's car park.
“Who are you?” I asked, turning to face him.
“Eric Wilson,” he smiled triumphantly, looking as though he won something.
I had so many questions. How did he know my parents? Why had my mom sent him and not my dad, and then there was his reaction when he heard my name. But more than that, I needed to know that my parents were okay or nothing bad had happened to my friends in Trinidad. Instantly my mind went back to that night and holding Daren in my arms, watching him die, the room that smelled of his blood, and the tightening in my throat returned with vengeance.
“You’re staring at me,” Eric noted without as much as glancing my way.
“No,” I muttered. “I’m looking at you... continuously.”
“Well stop. It’s stalker-ish,” he commanded bored, expecting me to obey.
“Eric...” I hesitated, my voice going soft and unsure. “When I get home... I won’t find police cars or an ambulance, would I?”
