Make Them Scream

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"Stop biting your nails."

I snapped my hand away from my mouth, curling my fingers into my palm. How did Liz know I was doing it? She wasn't even looking at me.

"Sorry," I said.

She tilted her head to the side, cracking her neck loudly. We sat on the bench behind the small, plastic dining table. Her leg was so close to mine, I could almost feel the contact. My entire body was on edge—all of my muscles tensed.

"I don't know if it's a good idea for Jake to be out there by himself," I said.

"He's a grown ass man, Alex." She turned to me. "He can take care of himself."

"I know." I glanced around the bus uneasily, gripping the worn vinyl of the seat. Everything was still the same as before, just tilted about ten degrees from normal. It was like I was in a pretend world—one that looked identical to the one I knew, except the force of gravity had been tugged a hair out of whack. The sense that something wasn't right—that something was watching us—clung to the back of my mind. I couldn't shake it.

"What are you worried is going to happen to him out there?" Liz leaned forward, running her hands down her designer ripped jeans. Her fingers almost brushed against my leg, but she shifted to avoid the contact. Instead, she rested one elbow on the table, holding her chin in her hand.

"I don't know. He could get attacked by bears, maybe. Wolves."

"Wolves?" Liz forced a laugh, and then she actually laughed. "Really, Alex?" She shoved my shoulder playfully. "You've been hanging out with Wolfpack too much." She paused for a second as she chuckled. "I swear, their drummer, Beck, actually thinks he's a werewolf. Every time we drink with them, he goes on and on to me about it."

I smirked at her. "He's just telling you that to make himself seem interesting because he wants to get in your pants."

Liz rolled her eyes.

"You know I'm right. Can't blame the guy, though. You're hot as hell, Liz."

Her face blushed pink, and she tried to hide the fact that she was smiling. She tugged her lips down over her teeth.

"Have you gotten with him yet?" I asked.

"No," she responded immediately. "I mean . . . what? This is a really awkward conversation, Alex."

"It's okay, I know. Take your time getting over me, Liz." I pretended to yawn. "I've been told I can be a tough act to follow. Beck should already know that, though, considering we open every show for them." I grinned at her.

"Oh my God." Liz put her hand to her forehead and covered her face. Her body shook as she held in a laugh. "That is one of the worst jokes you've ever told, Alex."

"But it still made you laugh."

Liz turned to me, her lips pressed together in a soft smile. "I'm going to make something to eat. Do you want anything?"

"I'm all right," I said. My head was still aching, killing any appetite I might have had.

Liz nodded and pushed herself to her feet.

I leaned back, my eyes getting heavy. As my energy dipped, a chill ran over me. I stood, trying to get my blood going again.

How long had Jake been outside? I turned around and peeled back the blinds, but the night was black as ink. I squinted out the window toward the road, but it was pointless. The dim light from the interior of the bus glared off the glass, and I couldn't see a thing.

The sound of a thousand tiny stones tumbling echoed through the bus.

I glanced over my shoulder. Liz was pouring a bowl of cereal.