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But when I look up to find Dmitry, I deflate.
“Hello, Willow. Do you have a minute?”
“Uh, sure.”
From what I can tell, Dmitry is kind-hearted, and he took all of Johanna’s vitriol in stride during our last dance rehearsal. He’s the tallest kid in class, with a lanky figure and warm eyes.
He sits down at the vacated desk beside me, alleviating the need to crane my neck.
“What is Texas like?” he asks, his accent a little thicker than the other students.
“You want to know about… Texas?”
“Yes, I am applying to colleges in America, and there are a couple in Texas I’m interested in. And I saw on social media you’re from there.”
“You stalked me online?”
His face falls. “I apologize. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”
I laugh. “I’m just teasing you. What do you want to know?”
We spend a few minutes talking about Houston, the closest hub to Conroe, and other parts of Texas. He’s disappointed I’m not from a cattle farm, but when I assure him I know how to two-step, he gets excited.
“Will you teach me?”
It’s hard to say no when he lights up like a Christmas tree. “Yeah, I can do that.”
His skin is quite fair, so the blush creeping to his cheeks is more pronounced. “Thank you. Would you like to exchange phone numbers so we can make plans?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Once I give him my number, he sends me a text with his name and a smiley face emoji.
“There, now you have mine, too,” he says with a wide grin. “I will call you.”
“Sounds good.”
He gives me a wave before gathering his things and leaving the classroom. Shouldering my bookbag, I exit into the hallway and shoot a text to Ivan to pick me up.
I pop into the third-floor restroom before heading downstairs. My eyes catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and even with my blazer on, I can still make out the faint line of pink on my bra.
It’s a miracle I didn’t get dress-coded today.
The door opens as another student walks in, but when it shuts, the click of the lock echoes against the tile.
A moment later, Alek steps into my field of view in the mirror. With a gasp, I spin around to face him.
“Jesus, you scared me,” I exclaim. “This is the women’s restroom, you know. Or can you not read?”
Without a word, he stalks toward me, and I shrink back beneath his intense stare. He steps into my space, and I bump into the sink behind me, gripping the edge of the counter.
His arm reaches for the mirror, supporting his weight as he leans in, trapping me. “When will you grow bored of these childish games, malishka?”
“What are you talking about?”
My voice is more of a squeak. He’s formidable, and if I tried to run, I’d be no match for him. He’s lean but deadly, his muscles packed tight into one lethal body.
And his darkness envelops me, sucking me in until I can’t breathe.
