Free Evernight by Claudia Gray Page B

dawn. Groaning,
I sat up and resigned myself to being awake. I could've fetched the comforter
and tried to snatch a few more hours of sleep, but I needed to get in some work
on my English paper on Dracula or face yet more of the wrath of Mrs.
Bethany. So I slipped into my robe and tiptoed past Patrice, who slept soundly,
as if the cold couldn't penetrate the thin sheet over her.

Evernight's bathrooms had been built in an earlier era, one in which students
were probably so grateful to have an indoor toilet that they weren't picky
about things like plumbing. Too few stalls, no conveniences like electrical
outlets or even mirrors, and separate faucets for hot and cold water in the
tiny sinks—I'd hated them from the start. At least by now I had learned to
scoop a handful of icy water in my palm before letting the steaming-hot water
pour into that. This way, I could wash my face without scalding my fingers. The
tile was so chilly against my bare feet that I made a mental note to wear socks
to bed until spring.

As soon as I turned off the faucets, I heard something else—crying, soft and
quiet. I patted my face dry with my washcloth as I walked toward the sound.
"Hello? Is somebody there?"

The sniffling stopped. Just when I thought I was intruding, Raquel's face
peeked out of one of the stalls. She wore pajamas and the tan-leather braided
bracelet that she always seemed to have on. Her eyes were red.
"Bianca?" she whispered.

"Yeah. Are you okay?"

She shook her head and wiped at her cheeks. "I'm freaking out. I can't
sleep."

"It got cold all of a sudden, didn't it?" I felt stupid even saying
that. I knew as well as Raquel did that she wasn't sobbing in the bathroom at
dawn because the weather was frosty.

"I have to tell you something." Raquel's hand closed over my wrist,
her grip stronger than I would've thought. Her face was pale, her nose reddened
from crying. "I need you to tell me if you think I'm going insane."

This is a weird question to be asked, no matter who's asking, no matter when or
where or how. Carefully, I asked, "Do you think you're going
insane?"

"Maybe?" Raquel laughed unevenly, and that reassured me. If she could
see the funny side of this, then probably she was basically okay.

I glanced around behind us, but the bathroom was empty. At that hour, we were
sure to have the place to ourselves for quite a while. "Are you having bad
dreams or something?"

"Vampires. Black capes, fangs, the works." She tried to laugh.
"You wouldn't think anybody out of kindergarten could still be scared of
vampires, but in my dreams—Bianca, they're terrible."

"I had a nightmare about a dying flower the night before classes
started," I said. I wanted to distract her from her own nightmares; maybe
sharing mine would help, even if I did feel sort of stupid talking about it out
loud. "An orchid or a lily or something, wilting in the middle of a storm.
It scared me so badly I couldn't shake it from my mind the whole next
day."

"I can't get them out of my head, though. These dead hands, grabbing at me—"

"You're only thinking about that because of the Dracula assignment," I said. "We'll be done with Bram Stoker in another week.
You'll see."

"I know that; I'm not stupid. But the nightmares will just change into
something else. I don't ever feel safe. It's like there's this person—this
presence—someone, something that's getting too close. Something
terrible." Raquel leaned closer and whispered, "Don't you ever feel
like there's something at this school that's…evil?"

"Courtney, sometimes." I tried to turn it into a joke.

"Not that kind of evil. Real evil." Her voice shook. "Do you
believe in real evil?"

Nobody had ever asked me that, but I knew the answer. "Yeah. I do."

Raquel swallowed so hard I could hear it, and we stared at each other for a few
moments, unsure what to say next. I knew that I ought to keep reassuring her,
but the intensity of her fear forced me to listen.

"I always feel like I'm being watched