Free From a Dream: Darkly Dreaming Part I by C. J. Valles, Alessa James Page A

everyone else was. Staring at the face in the mirror, I barely recognized the person looking back. Before leaving the house I had put on eye shadow, a light dusting of blush and lip-gloss. It felt like I was playing a game of dress-up.
    A loud knock from outside startled me, and I opened the door, quickly stepping aside as a guy raced past me and into the bathroom beyond the powder room. His face was green, and I heard retching noises behind me. Suddenly, I felt a wave of relief that I had poured out my nuclear-green drink. Retreating into the hallway and away from the sound of heaving, I entered the sea of people and felt my headache ratchet up a notch as I moved toward the stairs. Then I heard someone shouting over the music. I kept walking, but the voice continued to get louder until it was right behind me.
    “ Hey ! Girlie! Wait up.”
    Girlie ? I didn’t turn toward the voice, but then a meaty hand shot out, taking hold of my wrist before I made it to the stairs. A bad feeling slithered through me, like a snake had just wrapped itself around my wrist. Reluctantly, I turned and saw that the hand belonged to Scott Adams—Jason’s friend from my U.S. History class. I frowned. Neither one of them had so much as looked at me, much less said hello, until tonight.
    Like Jason, Scott was good-looking in a boring, beefy-yet-boyish sort of way, with wavy brown hair, a slightly ruddy skin tone, and hazel eyes, which were heavy-lidded and added to his overall look of arrogance. Something in his expression—the permanent smirk maybe—told me he was used to getting what he wanted. And his reputation had preceded him. According to Sean, Scott had dated half the cheerleaders, most of the girls’ volleyball team, and occasionally he swooped down on a bewildered freshman. One of the girls in my English class had a crush on him, though I couldn’t understand why. Girls’ reports varied from unrepentant jerk to charming, but I assumed he could easily be both. His smile made me think of the stereotype of a used car salesman. Slick and untrustworthy.
    “Mind if I have my arm back?” I said plainly.
    “No problem.” He dropped my wrist and smiled. “I’m Scott.”
    He held out his hand, swaying a little where he stood. I nodded, but didn’t take his hand.
    “Nice to meet you,” I said dryly.
    I didn’t offer my name, and suddenly uneasy with the way he was staring at me, I turned and started to walk away when his hand clamped around my wrist again.
    “Hold up. I want to show you something.”
    I twisted my arm as a jolt of panic surged through me. When I couldn’t break free of his grip, I looked around. There were hundreds of partygoers around, and it wasn’t like he was going to murder me in the middle of a crowded room. Still, where was Sean?
    As my gaze swept across the downstairs, my eyes locked onto Will Kincaid, who was framed in the open front door, staring in my direction with a venomous expression. He wasn’t looking at me—he was looking at Scott. My heart thudded in my chest, and I yanked at my arm, digging my heels into the carpet. Despite my efforts, Scott easily began towing me down the hallway.
    I looked into the crowd one last time before he shoved open a door and pulled me in after him. I blinked. Inside, the room was illuminated entirely by black lights, casting our surroundings in a strange purplish glow that made Scott’s teeth appear abnormally white and his eyes a creepy, milky white. He looked like a ghoul. A little early for Halloween was all I could think.
    “See, isn’t this cool?” Scott asked.
    I hadn’t noticed before with the blaring music, but his words were beginning to slur together.
    “It’s great, but I need to go find my friend, Sean. He’s giving me a ride home,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and authoritative.
    My palms began to sweat and my knees felt weak. Something’s wrong here , I thought with a sick feeling. I took a step back. Across the room, I could see