I hear some chattering behind me as some figures enter the bathroom. Shutting my eyes, I squeeze my backpack tightly, hoping that they won't notice my back in the window. Unfortunately, I can't see anything from my position; facing outwards. Fear enters me, the thought that they might laugh at my form chilling me to the bone. I shift slightly, thrusting my head into the afternoon air, leaving only my back and butt in the window. From my position, the bushes might as well be a sea of sharks.
The noise suddenly ceases, the chattering halting so suddenly that the air freezes as well. My body stiffens, and I suddenly find it hard to breathe.
There are steps, ones that grow increasingly louder to my unwilling ears. I can tell they are heading my way, sensing the foreboding hiding behind each small movement. Finally, they stop as well, leaving only silence. Dangerous silence. Time seems to pause, even my breath suspended in anxiety.
Light and incredibly thin fingers, hundreds of them, brush across my back as the figure leans close to my ear. The person's hot breath, full of menace, dwindles upon the back of my neck. There is another painful pause, the suspense eating me whole, and then a sound that makes my blood run cold.
"He is mine," a malicious voice whispers. A pair of two soft but strangely strong hands collide with my back, the carefully manicured nails clawing into my skin. The force pushes me forwards, and I start to fly.
Only for a second, though, before gravity takes its course.
The air rushes past me, my backpack serving as a weight to pull me down even faster. I release it, hoping crazily that somehow it will slow me, but that doesn't stop my plummet. I am toppling face down, my view of the deathly bushes absolutely electrifying. Death looms before me once more, a familiar figure I have come to recognize in its previous two visits. I marvel at the fact that Death has come for me three times so far, when the average teenager doesn't even know his face. The ground runs to meet me, and I shut my eyes tightly.
Muscled arms, strong and sinewy, wrap around my form right before the first prickly leaf mars my face. He, for surely these perfect arms must belong to a man, cradles me, embracing my suddenly fiery hot skin. Electricity shocks me in every place that he touches me, a strange, arousing feeling searing through my veins.
I stare into the face of my savior, and grimace. Somehow, I know even before I look that the mysterious man is Lucas.
"Why would you do something stupid like fall out of the bathroom window?" he asks confusedly, his tone a little accusing. Setting me down, away from the thorns, he steps out as well. Streaks of red blood pulsate from his knee down, thorns sticking into his leg. He seems not to notice the demolition of his beautiful calves, continuing on with his "why are you so stupid" talk. "I had to run from the front of the school," he complains, "to you in three seconds flat, and avoid a group of annoying girls along the way! Why were you in the window? I thought you were in the bathroom! And don't they usually keep those windows shut? How could you fall out of a closed window-"
"I was trying to escape, wolfboy. Get it right," I say, without energy or menace. A near-death experience takes a lot out of you.
Lucas looks at me, his eyes wide... and begins to laugh hysterically. I realize now that the fact that I was trying to escape makes me look even stupider than if I had just fallen out of the window. "Ava," he speaks, his voice like melted butter as it slips through his lips, "you can't escape from me."