Page 11 of When Darkness Calls

I’d never been afraid to fear. I actually kind of enjoy being scared. I love creepy things, horror movies, paranormal and occult stuff. I mean, come on, self-appointed spooky bitch #1 here. I wasn’t someone who would shy away from the dark, or the monsters they tell us are lurking in the shadows. But things have changed.

It didn’t start last year, like Liz and I’m sure Cade probably thinks. It wasn’t Halloween that had altered pieces of myself in such a way that I no longer recognized who I am. I mean, did it have me feeling paranoid as fuck anytime I’m alone? Yes. But, no. I’ve been different long before that. Four years and I still don’t feel like the old me.

Liz stands, throwing her bag over her shoulder and grabbing the remnants of her lunch. “I have to go. Math’s next.” She fakes a sob. “Pray for me?”

“Godspeed, soldier.” I give her a mock salute which she returns.

“We’ll talk more later, okay? I’m supposed to be off by eight, but you know Bobby. He’ll come up with a crazy plan to rearrange all the diner booths or something equally stupid ten minutes before my shift ends. But I’ll text you,” she points my way, “and I’ll see you tonight.” Then she leans forward, placing a quick kiss on Issac’s cheek. He nods, muttering an “I love you” and attempting to take another slurp from the empty milkshake in his hand.

I watch him bewildered as Liz does the same.

“You think he even realizes?” I murmur to her as she comes to my side.

“Definitely not.” She tugs my hair in good-bye and turns trudging up the sidewalk to Corvin Hall.

With a small sweep across the plaza, I search for the ever-present eyes on me. Everyone seems to be doing their own things. Studying. Eating. Laughing. Issac is still completely oblivious to the world around him. With a sigh I stand, grabbing my things, and beginning my own walk to class…nearly an hour too early.

A small breeze finally falls across campus shifting the tall branches covering the path overhead. A squirrel bounces around the base of one tree, flitting left and right as another chases after.

Overall, it’s been a pretty good first day of school. The nerves and anxiety of my first day of college fell away hours ago, now it feels like I’ve been here for years. It probably helps that I’ve hung around West View University more than most people my age. It pays off having a brother and his childhood friends being years older than you. A couple who are still “technically” students too.

The heavy door to the art building closes behind me. A rush of cool air blankets me as the quiet thuds of my steps echo around the empty hall. A small smile pulls at my face as I inhale.

God, I love this place.

It’s been quite some time since I’ve been inside, but it feels like it was yesterday I was roaming the hallways looking for Grayson holed up in one of the workrooms.

The doorway to the lecture hall is open but the whole room is empty. Low lights line the aisles bracketing the half-moon tables. It looks more like a small auditorium sans stage than a typical classroom.

“Oh, well I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here so soon. Hello!” A man’s cheery tone rings through the air from the top of the lecture hall. His quick steps reverberate off the marble tile, drawing him nearer. A short beard spattered with gray adorns his slightly tanned face, a bright smile highlighting the wrinkles around his kind eyes. The heat of the day must have gotten to him too because the sleeves of his dark green dress shirt have been rolled up and a suit jacket hangs off his arm.

Excitement lights me up from the inside out. He passes me throwing his jacket and leather bag on the large table at the front of the room which houses a computer and what looks like a projector.

The man claps, rounding on me again with an outstretched hand.

“It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m—”

“Professor Logan,” I finished with a broad grin, shaking his hand eagerly. “Sir, can I just say it is an honor and a privilege to be in your class. My name is Danielle Beckett, but please, call me Dani.”

He nods, patting my hand before releasing it. “Ah, yes, of course! From my understanding, we will become quite acquainted over the next few years, not just in classes, but also in advising sessions. You are still pursuing Film Studies, correct?”

“Yes, sir. Though I am considering adding a second major, I haven’t decided yet,” I say sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about that too much. You have plenty of time. I look forward to working with you, Miss Beckett.”

Professor Logan turns back to the table and I turn to find myself a place to sit. The minutes quickly pass by as I set out my notebook, a pen, and a couple highlighters and more and more people filter into the large room to take their places among the tables.

A few minutes before class is set to begin, I’m bent over near the aisle, digging around for a piece of gum in my bag, when someone bumps into me.

“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?”

I nod, finally grasping the pack of mint gum shoved in the bottom of my bag, muttering, “Don’t worry about it.” The guy mumbles another quick apology as he continues up to the table where Professor Logan has been typing away at the computer. Biting into a piece, the stale mint coats my tongue as I catch a glance of him.

He seems like just your average dude. Sandy brown hair, average height, maybe a little bit stockier than most, probably a football player or hockey or something like that.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, sir. They have already begun blocking off the streets for the Fest and there seemed to have been an accident or something that had—”

“Not a problem, my boy.” Professor Logan claps him on the back. “Let’s get started, shall we?”