Weeping Angel: Malvada (Book 1 of the Weeping Angel Series)

Chapter XI

On Monday morning, Clarice decided to drive me to school on her way to "university," as she told me, but I knew she was going somewhere else. I could see it on her face; my nightmare and the strange disappearance of the hand-print around my neck were running through our minds, which was why we didn't get enough sleep last night.

Clarice told me on our way to my school that she was going to skip today's classes and go to the local library in our town. She wanted to conduct some research on whatever the hell she thought about the angel statue. I tried talking her out of doing this or something stupid because we didn't know what we were experiencing. Clarice reluctantly agreed with me but said that I wasn't allowed to stop her from figuring out the reason behind the strange disappearance of the hand-print around my neck. I rolled my eyes and promised her I wouldn't interfere in her business.

I would've volunteered to help Clarice, but it sounded stupid to even think about it. How would we even begin to find an explanation for last night and everything happening with the angel statue?

Clarice drops me off at school before speeding out the parking lot and onto the road. I drag myself inside the building and up the stairs to my locker. I open it and store my bag and notebooks inside, leaving me with my laptop, English notebook, and pencil case. I tuck my phone in my jeans pocket and adjust my belongings in my arms. Just as I shut my locker and turn around, I see Mason and Ethan walking towards my direction. They smile when they see me, and I smile back as I walk over to the boys.

As I get closer to them, Mason's smile drops, his lips curving into a frown as he studies my face. The two boys stop in their tracks, and Ethan cocks his head to the side. "You look like a pretty zombie."

I choke out a laugh, and Mason rolls his eyes at Ethan but then turns to look at me with concern in his eyes. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

Shit. I probably didn't cover my eye bags properly with my concealer. "Um, yeah. I just had a bad dream."

Ethan suddenly lets out a dramatic gasp, pointing his index finger at me with wide eyes. "You watched Teletubbies last night, didn't you? Mason and I raise an amused eyebrow at Ethan.

"E, only you would get freaked out by Teletubbies." Mason asserts as we start walking to English class.

Ethan looked like someone told him Santa Claus wasn't real. "Those alien things are hideous, Mason!" Mason and I simply roll our eyes, shaking our heads in disbelief and amusement, ignoring Ethan.

Mason grows serious again, "What happened last night?" The way he was asking me, it sounded like he was expecting or dreading for something to happen, and I didn't like the sound of that.

The three of us turn the corner of the English department and stop near our class. I notice a tall, muscular guy leaning against one of the lockers not too far from us, his back facing us. Assuming he was some random classmate scrolling through his phone, I ignore him and divert my gaze to look at Mason and Ethan, who were silently prompting me to tell them the truth.

I explain to the boys about everything that went down with the angel statue so far, from the first time we saw it moving and doing weird things with the lights to my horribly real nightmare from last night, including the strange, red hand-print on my neck. As I told my story, I noticed how Mason grew tense by the second, exchanging knowing glances with a very serious Ethan. That's how I knew there was something wrong.

I also notice that the guy behind Mason, whose back was still facing us, was standing straight, his body rigid, the muscles underneath his fitted shirt tense.

Mason steps closer to me, his brown eyes filling up with worry and fear. "Was that all that happened so far?" I nod, narrowing my green eyes at him.