"How was the project?" my dad asks as he scoops a large portion of lasagna onto his plate.

After Seth dropped me off I rushed up to my room and did the rest of my homework. While I completed each of those boring tasks my mind was swarmed with the rollercoaster of an afternoon I spent with Seth and his bipolar-like mood swings. When my parents eventually got home I helped my mom make some lasagna which I've secretly been craving.

"It went alright. We managed to finish the whole thing but there might be a few kinks we... I'll need to fix," I say after I've swallowed a bite of my food.

My parents look at each other, anger prominent in their eyes.

"Why do you have to fix the mistakes?" my mom asks.

I sigh. "Because my partner is bipolar, or at least pretends he is. Honestly, his mood swings are all over the place. He's worse than a teenage girl on her period!" I yell, my frustration and need to rant fully taking over me.

"Please use different comparisons while we're eating," my dad mumbles and puts the fork full of pasta back into his bowl.

"Not the time, Tim," my mom snaps at him. She turns to me and puts her hand on my arm, "I'm sorry you got such a horrible partner. But seriously don't let him put all the work on you. It's not only your project, make him do some work."

Looking up into my mother's soulful green eyes a smile breaks across my lips.

"Thanks, Mom," I whisper before I place my large fork full of lasagna into my mouth. My taste buds sing as the mixture of mince, pasta, cheese, and a light layer of chili flakes mix and slide down my throat.

"You see, honey, this is what happens when you get partnered with guys. Correction teenage boys, they're highly unreliable, not to mention total scum bags, sometimes," my dad says and then takes a few gulps of water from his glass.

I look down at the table and think long and hard about my dad's comment. Sure Seth drove me insane today but I wouldn't call him a scum bag. Even after everything he's done. But I'm not going to argue with him about this.

"Yeah, I suppose they can be."

My mom sighs and shakes her head. "Tim, don't try and corrupt her like that." She turns to me, "Sweetie, don't listen to your dad, not all teenage boys are bad."

"Honey, what are you doing?" my dad snaps, he looks at my mom as if she's just committed a mortal sin and now I'm just confused.

"Just because you and—"

"We can discuss this later," he snaps.

And just like that, our dinner continues in awkward silence.

As soon as dinner is over I rush to my room and text Rose and Lola about my day with Seth, especially how he snapped at me at the end. Almost immediately, I got a response.

RomcomRose: What a jerk!!!!!!! Like seriously who does he think he is the motherfucking king? 😤😡😠😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

LabRatLola: Say the word and this Seth dude might just disappear 😏🤔

RomComRose: Yeah, we can go all Jersey on his ass 👊

I laugh at the messages and give silent thanks to God that I have friends like this. I only wish they were here in person and not so far away. I bring up my keyboard and type back my response.

Me: That is so sweet of you guys but I don't need either of you to do anything. I can handle him on my own. ❤👊

LabRatLola: Fine 😧

RomComRose: But if you change your mind we are here for you. 😊

Me: Thanks, guys ❤ Anyway, I need some sleep. Chat later. 👋

RomComRose: Night 😴😴😴

LabRatLola: 😪😪😪

Turning off my phone I quickly put on my PJs and race into my bed. The second my head hits my pillow I'm out like a light.

Sleep decides to illude me. Apparently, she thinks I'm not worthy of her time and won't allow me to stay asleep for longer than half an hour at a time.

Right now as I lay on my aching back I stare long and hard at my ceiling as sharp chills slice at me from within. Each time a wave comes rushing in, I have to cover my mouth with either my hand or, even better, my pillow to muffle my screams.

They've never been this bad. I still don't know what they mean but I know it can't be good.

After writhing in pain for going on over an hour I decide to head downstairs to fetch a glass of water. As I take shaky steps toward the staircase I hear muffled voices echoing from my parent's bedroom. Unable to keep my curiosity at bay I quietly walk toward their door and gently press my ear to it. Their voices are slightly muffled but I can still make them out.

"Tim, I think this is getting out of control."

"Don't be ridiculous, honey, I've got everything completely under control. Everything is going according to plan... well mostly. He says it might take a bit more time, but we'll be done on schedule."

I can hear my mom laugh," Do you even hear yourself? Schedules, plans, you're talking about our child. You're letting this man get into your head."

Fear and curiosity fill me. What's happening with me and why does my mom sound so upset about it?

"No, I'm not," my dad protests.

"Yes, Tim you are! How can we be sure what he's telling us is true?"

"It just is. You need to have a little faith. This is the leader of one of the greatest nations we are talking about."

There's a moment of silence and even though I can't see inside the room I know my mom is probably pacing back and forth.

"I still don't think what we agreed to was right. She's still so young."

"We are doing what's best for our survival. More importantly, it's what's best for her."

Unable to listen to any more of the conversation I rush back to my room where I try to push past the pain and go to sleep.

There are no words to describe how relieved I felt when I woke up and the chills were gone. I even took my temperature just to be extra sure that they perhaps weren't still there and I just wasn't feeling them. Much to my pleasure the thermometer beeped and showed a normal temperature.

Thanks to the lack of sleep I got last night I look like a zombie. Dark bags are hanging under my eyes which look lifeless. I look like someone about to drop dead at any minute.

As I lazily shuffle down the stairs and hear my parents playfully bickering about the difference between the multiple types of coffee I think back to the strange conversation I overheard last night. The one about me, some plan, and a man they were not naming. Honestly, it all sounds very concerning and if I weren't so damn tired I would be thinking about it more. But right now all my brain wants is a good night's rest.

I didn't want them to worry about me and my current state, or maybe it's just because I didn't want to face them after hearing that conversation. So I sneak out of the house without even saying goodbye and begin my slow walk to school.

Like every single morning, when I get to school, the hallways are as quiet as a ghost town. Normally this would make me feel lonely and I would wander the halls waiting for my brain to shut down from boredom. But sometimes I relish the loneliness, the silence, the peace because it is exactly what an artist like me needs to do her work. And to wake up.

After packing the books I need for the first few periods of the day I rush out to the area just before the school field. I look for a bench that isn't nearly as damp as the others I take a seat and pull out the spare sketchbook I keep in the front of my bag. It's the one I take out when I have spare time in class.

I plug my earphones into my phone and after popping the soft buds into my ears I hit shuffle on my playlist titled Inspiration. And while I get lost in the songs all ranging from sad songs, and love songs to things I want to dance to I allow my hand and pencil to drift across the paper.

As I drew my mind raced between all of the things that were bothering me. Seth's attitude toward me, Chris and the highly inappropriate way he acts around me, the mysterious chills that have returned worse than ever before, and last but certainly not least the conversation I overheard last night.

What did I have to do with my family's survival? Who is this supposed leader of a great nation? What did a great nation even mean? Is it a cult or something? Too many scenarios and none of them were good.

Suddenly I feel a hand firmly grasp my left shoulder quickly followed by a masculine voice saying, "Hey!"

The shock of their sudden appearance made me scream and I almost threw my phone and book to the floor. I quickly remove my earphones and look up at the person who interrupted me. Much to my surprise—it's Seth.

I glare at him as he casually stands next to me, dressed in his usual all-black outfit and carrying a packet and a coffee from the cafe we went to after we were finished with our project.

"What do you want?" I ask, trying my best to remain calm and regain my composure.

He doesn't answer me, instead, he looks over my shoulder at my open sketchbook. His eyes scan over the picture that I've drawn.

"You are really talented," he says as he points to the picture.

I look down and marvel at my recent creation. It's a woman sitting on a window sill in what appears to be a tower of a castle. She's wearing a long and flowy dress and is twirling her long dark curls with her finger. Her eyes are filled with despair and longing and she appears to be looking for someone. However, the thing that caught my eye was the gentle and delicate snowflakes that were floating from the fingers on her free hand. It almost looks as if she's controlling them.

I look back up at Seth and give him a small smile. "Thanks, now what do you want?" I ask as I close my book and pack it into my bag along with my phone and earphones.

He reaches out his hands almost thrusting the coffee and bag of mystery goods into my hands.

"This is for you. It's a hot chocolate and a little treat. Not a cream doughnut, I promise," he says with a smirk.

I look up at him confused. "Why?" I ask, sceptical of his sudden nice demeanour and tone.

"Cause I wanna be nice," he says while shrugging.

"Why?" I ask again, pure scepticism coursing through my veins. And I just want to fuck with him, it's the least he deserves.

"What's wrong, can't I be nice to you?" 

"Nope," I say, popping the 'p'.

He chuckles and shakes his head. "I'm starting to think you have trust issues."

I cross my arms. "Well, the last time you were this nice to me was because you were trying to sleep with me. So little trust issues are warranted."

He purses his lips in a pout before they turn into a smile. "Touche, but I promise this is only a peace offering." He tries to hand the hot chocolate and bag of doughnuts to me again.

"I don't believe you," I say and resist the overwhelming urge to take the so-called 'peace offering because I am hungry and a doughnut sounds nice.

It seems that he's not finding me entertaining any more and he says with a bit more force, "Just take the damn coffee and doughnuts."

"Doughnuts?" I ask, remembering that he had said he only got me a treat, which normally means only one.

"I didn't know what flavour you actually like so I got you a chocolate one, a vanilla one and a cinnamon and sugar one."

I giggle. "So when you said you got me a treat you mean you got me one of each."

"Isn't that what it means?" he asks in a playful tone.

"You're weird you know that?"

"Says the girl who's refusing free coffee and doughnuts."

Rolling my eyes I reach my hands out and accept the treats. I bring the cup up to my lips and enthusiastically take a long sip of the much-needed hot chocolate.

"Can I take a seat?" he asks as he gestures to the bench.

Reaching into the bag and taking a bite of the chocolate-glazed doughnut I nod my head. With a small smile tugging on his lips, he sits down next to me and leans against the brick wall behind us.

"So, what do you want?" I ask noticing how nervous he suddenly looks.

"I just... Vega, I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I shouldn't have acted like an asshole you didn't deserve that and I am very very sorry."

Looking into his eyes that are shining with pure, yes pure, guilt I smile at him and nod. "Apology accepted," I mumble as I swallow the bite of the doughnut I took. 

His eyes widen in surprise. "Wait, really?" he asks with a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips, but it disappears very quickly, almost as if he doesn't want to get ahead of himself.

"I just said I accepted your apology so just take it and shut up," I playfully snap.

His smile widens. "Sorry," he laughed and before I knew it I was joining him.

As I take another sip of my hot chocolate I hear a familiar voice call out, "Seth!"

The two of us turn and watch as Carla stands off in the distance, her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her lips.

I look between her and Seth, who is looking between me and her.

"Listen, Vega—"

"Seth!" Carla yells again, this time with a lot more force in her voice.

I look back at Seth who is looking down at the floor.

"Seth—"

"I have to go. Enjoy your leave offering," he says. With his eyes still trained to the floor he slings his bag straps over his shoulder and walks away.

"Bye," I mumble even though I know for a fact he can't hear me.

Eating my doughnut and taking the occasional sip of the hot chocolate I watch Seth lazily walk over to Carla. The second he's within arm's distance she forcefully loops her arm around his and pulls him up the path back into the school.

Before I could even blink the bell signalling the end of the day was ringing, which I was quite grateful for as the day was extremely tedious without Jade, Nicci, and Kim who all coincidentally did not come to school today.

One of them being absent makes sense, but all three of them, and on the same day. I wanted to be angry about it, but I figured there must be a good reason.

Besides that, I also noticed that Seth wasn't around for... most of the day. He bunked all the classes I had with him which was only two. My plan to give him work to do on our project failed so before I left school I shot him a quick text telling him that I would fix any errors and that he owed me big time. Of course, he didn't reason in his normal quick fashion, he's probably busy doing God knows what with Carla. Not that I care.

Popping in my earphones I start a slow walk back home. I try to focus on my music and the road ahead of me but I can't as the overwhelming sense of being followed. Briefly peering over my right shoulder I notice a dark car slowly driving just behind me.

Pretending not to notice I take out my earphones and swipe to the emergency call buttons. Hovering my finger over my dad's number I start to walk faster. Taking this as some sort of signal the car starts to drive faster so that it matches up with me. 

As I'm about to press on my dad's number I hear a window roll down.

"Vega!" the man in the car yells—it is Chris.

I stop dead in my tracks and slowly turn around and watch as Chris pulls up beside me. 

I nervously laugh. "Sorry, I thought you were a pervert following me." I'm not that far off.

"Yeah well me following you in my car with tinted windows wasn't exactly helping," he laughs while half hanging out of his window.

"Yeah," I laugh.

An awkward moment of silence settles between us, but it seems he didn't want it to last long.

"Anyway I was on my way to your house to visit your dad and I saw you walking here and I was wondering if you want a ride?"

I look at him silently as I weigh my options. Eventually, I decided that a ride home sounds a lot better than walking.

"That would be great thanks."

With a beaming smile, he unlocks the passenger side door and I quickly get inside.

As we drive down the quiet street I keep my eyes trained on my phone to see if Seth has responded or even looked at my message. He hasn't.

"Demon From Hell, that's a unique name for someone." 

Looking up at Chris I chuckle before looking back down at my phone.

"Yeah, it's my English partner," I sigh.

His hands tighten around the steering wheel and the air around me starts to feel colder.

"The boy you were at the coffee shop with?" he asks through gritted teeth.

I want to question him on this sudden anger, but I chose not to, just in case I really didn't want to hear the answer.

"Yeah, Seth."

He says silent for a minute or so.

"Why did you name him Demon From Hell?" he asks.

I sigh and shake my head. "It is a long story," I say leaning my head back against the cool leather seat.

"Well we have time and I'm interested in hearing the story."

I look down at my phone, silently pondering if I should expose the story to someone who might tell my father. As my eyes land on the screen I see a message finally come through.

Cool.

My blood starts to boil. Cool! That's all he can say. Cool!

I look back up at Chris and tell the story, "Well, he invited me to go to this party with him and I said yes mainly because I've never been asked out before and I wanted to know what a party was like or whatever. When we got there I found out that he was only being nice to me and asking me out because he and some other guy were competing to see who would sleep with me first. So I now call him Demon from Hell. But not to his face."

The air around me gets colder to the point it's almost unbearable.

"You didn't deserve any of that," he hisses and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. 

"You're only saying that because you are my dad's friend," I mumble as I shake my head.

"No, I mean it. You are a brilliant, beautiful, and talented woman, and no man should treat you like that. Hell, I certainly wouldn't treat you like that. I would invite you to a party because I want to spend time with you. I would treat you right the way any woman should be treated."

I suppose most women would be flattered by someone saying these things. It would make them feel heard, appreciated, and whatever else they want to feel. As appreciated as I want to feel I can't because the words were coming out in a tone that just didn't sit right with me. My sense of uneasiness was only strengthened by him placing his hand on my left thigh and looking into my eyes with love or lust shining in his.

"Please look back at the road. I don't feel like dying in a car crash," I say as forcefully as I can.

Thankfully he does as I say and turns his attention back to the road and removes his hand from my thigh.

Eventually, we reach my house and the second he stops the car I unclick my seat belt and jump out with my bag. I run to the door and ignoring my father and Chris I run up to my room and slam the door shut behind me.

Panting I lean my back against the closed door behind me. "My dad's friend is such a creep," I whisper to myself.

I've put up with his creepy looks and the creepy way he talks to me for far too long. I need to get this thing sorted out, and quickly.