2. Ava

2

AVA

H ave you ever woken up from a nightmare and your breathing was jagged, but as soon as you opened your eyes, you realized everything was okay, that it was just a bad dream, and nothing was real?

Well, that was how I felt every morning when I woke up, except that relief never came. Over the last year, I had become very good at lying to myself. If you did it long enough, it got to the point where you started to believe your own bullshit.

Two minutes later, my alarm went off. I didn't know why I even bothered to put it on anymore. I was lucky to sleep six hours on a good night. The first thing I did after washing my face was put on my makeup. I had two hours of practice if I hurried before the hockey players started their drills.

My father was already gone by the time I left the house. The first few days of my new normal were the worst. I felt like I was being watched. A sick paranoia followed me around.

Last year was an isolating year. Then, after the events of the lake, it was like instead of pushing me closer to my friends, it pulled me away from them.

I was lucky that skating was a solitary sport because what little energy I still had in me went into the game. If I were going to be lost inside of my head, then I would use it to my advantage and try to be the best at this damn school.

There was something beautiful about being out on the ice. As I glided, it was akin to flying. When it was me in the rink, that was when I felt free. I couldn't think about anything else because if I did, then there went my career. Skating was how I was able to be free from the monsters that haunted me at night—even if I had made myself believe they were not real.

One day, I would regret how loud my headphones were blasting in my ears. I needed loud music because there was something about the quiet that made me feel like I was drowning.

I furiously glided across the rink. If my coaches could see me now, they would be scolding me. There was nothing graceful about the way I was skating. Knowing my playlist was coming to an end, I knew it was time to call it quits. Slowing down my pace, I ended my practice with a double Lutz.

My chest was rising and falling rapidly. It felt like I was tasting fire for a moment, and I almost smiled. I loved feeling the ways I could push my body to the brink as a reminder that I was real and I was here. A reminder that I had things left to do, and I couldn't let myself go for a what-if.

I pulled the headphones down so they could rest on my neck when I heard some cheering.

"If you ever need some one-on-one lessons on the ice, Ava, I'm game."

Great.

I usually timed my practices so I didn't have to interact with the hockey squad.

Not like I could say anything. This was their domain, and I was lucky enough the school let me use it to practice—as long as it never interfered with their precious boys.

They used to have a skating program, but somehow solo sports didn't matter. I was stuck here with these buffoons while the cheer squad had to share with the football team. I knew for a fact I could out-skate half of the team.

When I looked up, I fought the urge to groan. Great, everyone was here.

Lucky me.

I could feel their eyes on me. You'd think a girl with leggings, a long sleeve, and leg warmers was something new and riveting.

Maybe it was the fact that I hadn't touched anyone on that team that made me some prized possession to those pricks. No matter how many times they had seen me, I could still feel the way their eyes roamed over my body.

With my chin raised high, I gracefully made my way to where I had left my duffel bag. I grabbed the guards for my blades and then removed them. My phone had been left on the bench with the screen facing up. The light lit up with a message from an unknown number.

I immediately picked it up as I slung my duffel over one of my shoulders.

Unknown:

1…2…3…4

I know something you don't know.

The phone fell from my hands as if it were on fire. The taste of copper was on my tongue. I blinked a few times and realized that I had torn through my lip, biting it. I bent down to get my phone, and sure enough, the text message was there.

It was like being trapped in a nightmare, but waking up was the problem here. The hand that I had sworn I had never seen flashed in my mind like a damn neon sign saying I was guilty. I clutched the phone to my chest, and when I looked up, my eyes immediately landed on Grayson's. His brows were raised in amusement.

My nostrils flared.

Was he behind this?

Making sure everything was secure, I took off toward the exit. I wasn't running, but it was close enough.

"We scared her off, guys!" someone snickered.

I was too rattled to be annoyed by their remarks. Just as I pushed the door open, I ran straight into someone. My phone went flying again. I heard the thud it made as it hit the ground.

Ignoring the person whom I had bumped into, I immediately went to search for my phone. When I crouched down, I noticed that the guy I had collided with was already handing me back my cell.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"You're welcome, Ava."

His voice was soft, almost like he didn't want to speak too loud for fear that I might disappear. My head snapped up, and sure enough, Micah was right there. His brows scrunched in confusion.

Without saying more, I quickly got up and walked away. This was not happening today.

"There's nothing there," Grayson stated after a few seconds.

Both Micah and I blankly looked at him.

"It was just a rock. We hit a rock. This is Blackwell Lake, not some fucking Netflix show."

Micah was the first to move, and he took a second before going to peer back down at the water. I saw his shoulders slump in relief.

"He's right. There's nothing there," he confirmed, and I felt like I was able to breathe properly again.

" Let's go back," I said, but it sounded more like a plea.

The three of us huddled together, ignoring Miller as he was still passed out on the floor. Someone draped a windbreaker over my shoulders. When I looked up, I noticed Grayson had taken off his. He didn't have to tell me tonight had shaken him up. The usual air of cockiness that surrounded him was missing, and I found I quite liked this version of him better.

"Let's get out of here," he said as he looked at me.

He began to steer the boat away, when a crunching noise went through the propeller. I screamed and covered my face, but Grayson just drove toward the shore even faster. None of us made a comment. It wasn't until we got to shore and all of us stood on the dock that I finally spoke.

"Should we tell someone?" I whispered.

"Nothing happened tonight," Grayson pointed a finger at Micah and me. "It's late and we're all tipsy. We open our mouths, and there goes our upcoming junior year. My career, and your skating."

I looked at Micah because all Grayson cared about was himself.

"He's right, Ava. It was probably nothing."

"Right."

Micah walked next to me as we rejoined the bonfire. Neither of us spoke. Everyone was still singing and dancing, but I couldn't muster the energy to celebrate with them.

"I'm going home," I said, since Micah had not left me alone.

He nodded and silently walked me to my car.

"Goodbye, Ava."

That was the last time I had spoken to him. That summer had been one of the worst ones ever, and I had never felt more isolated. When we came back to school, Grayson seemed fine, Micah was still helping the hockey team, and as for me, I was telling myself that everything was okay and nothing had happened. I was on my way to believing it as well, but the message on my phone said otherwise.

I had been lying to myself so much I had almost believed what we had told ourselves that night. Now, every time my cell phone pinged, I jumped up as if it were a bomb waiting to go off.

I was in my last class of the day, and I couldn't wait to get home. I had convinced myself that if I was away from campus and I didn't look at my phone that somehow the events that haunted me were not real.

In my delirium, I began to think that I felt eyes on me. My skin burned as if someone was watching me. I kept my eyes locked on my philosophy professor until the bell rang, and I was the first to jump up. Just as I was putting my stuff in my backpack, my phone pinged, and I felt my breath get caught in my throat.

My hand shook as I reached for it. The relief I felt once my hand touched the screen to read the message was palpable. It was just from my dad letting me know he wouldn't be making it home for dinner. Not that it was all that surprising, but today it would have been nice to have him there.

Shaking my head, I put my phone away. When I looked up, I found myself locked in a dark gaze. Brown eyes so dark that they looked black belonged to Cruz Martinez. In the last year, I'd not seen much of him. Sure, I'd heard of him. Grayson was king of campus, but Cruz ruled the streets.

Thanks to his drag racing, his car always needed some type of work, and because of this, he saw my father probably more than I did at this point.

We weren't friends, and after what happened the other summer, he continued to ignore me like he always had. But now he was looking at me differently. His eyes were on my face, and his brow was furrowed.

I could see he was debating whether or not to talk to me. Before he could make up his mind, I grabbed my stuff and all but ran back to my car. I ignored the way my heart was beating, or how shallow my breathing got. It wasn't because I was out of shape—I was an athlete, damn it. I'd been denying it for months, but I knew I was having panic attacks. None of them had ever felt like this.

This was my junior year. There was just one year left after this one, and then I could leave all the bullshit behind.

I was passing the bushes by the athletic center where I had parked my car when a hand pulled me by the elbow. My first instinct was to scream. My mouth opened, but before a word could get out, someone was behind me, putting their hand over the lower part of my face.

My heartbeat stopped in that second. A thousand different thoughts ran rampant through my mind.

"Calm down, Ava."

I heard the words, but my eyes were too blurry to make out the face in front of me. This was not the person holding on to me.

That's when I realized there were two people who had me. My mind decided it had short-circuited for long enough, because something in me told me to run. I began to struggle, trying to get away from my assailant.

"Ava, calm down."

The command was whispered in my ear. While one of their hands was covering my mouth, the other was rubbing my arm soothingly.

I blinked away the moisture from my eyes and that's when I noticed that in front of me was Micah. Relief and confusion washed over me. I felt my body sag into the body behind me.

"I've got you," the person behind me said.

I turned my head, only to come face to face with Grayson. We were so close that I could taste the mintiness of his breath.

My eyes widened, and he seemed to know that I wasn't going to keep on screaming because he removed his hand from my mouth.

"What the hell?" I screeched as I took a step away from him.

Unfortunately, this brought me closer to Micah.

"You got one too, right?" He cut to the chase. I felt a shiver spread down my spine at his words. I looked at both of them, hoping I could see humor in their faces. That this was some sort of ill joke. However, that wasn't the case.

"Got what?" I whispered.

Micah moved, and I jumped at the sudden movement. He gave me an apologetic look before he showed me his phone.

Unknown:

1…2…3…4

How long until bones dissolve?

My throat constricted, and I had a hard time trying to swallow.

"M-m-mine is different," I told them as I pulled out my phone and showed them.

"So is mine," Grayson added, pulling out his phone.

Unknown:

1…2…3…4

How long until the cops are knocking on your door?

I was going to be sick.

My eyes locked with Micah's, and I noticed how uneasy he looked. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, while his arms seemed like they were almost vibrating.

"Someone knows," I whispered.

Grayson and Micah looked at each other and then at me.

"It's Cruz Martinez."