Crave (Harlequin Teen)

later.”
    I carefully avoided direct eye contact with any of the Warty Boys, as Anne had called them. But looking at their noses still let me indirectly search their expressions for the dark, crazed obsession from yesterday.
    And what I found was…only confused frowns, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. They didn’t even look at me, ignoring me just like they used to.
    Had the gaze daze, as Anne had called it, worn off overnight?
    I stopped shielding and allowed myself to sense their emotions, bracing myself for that churning, black turmoil from yesterday. And instead found only more confusion from them.
    Maybe the gaze daze was just a temporary effect.
    As Anne continued to chat with them about our latest algebra homework assignment, something dangerously close to hope filled me, and I took a deep breath. If the gaze daze-effect on guys was temporary, then maybe everything would be okay, after all. I just had to be sure I never, ever made eye contact with a boy again. Simple, right?
    Yeah, sure.
     
    The algebra boys didn’t bother me anymore, so I could actually focus on prepping for my studio’s dance recital at the end of the week. Not that I needed as much practice as before, now that my dancing was quickly improving. Still, I wanted to be sure I did the best I could at the recital. If I could blow away my family with my dancing, maybe they’d quit watching me all the time when they thought I didn’t notice. If I could be good at something for a change, then maybe it would show them that I was normal, after all. Not a freak. Just a regular teen doing something she really had fun doing.
    The only thing that continued to bug me was Greg. I couldn’t tell if I’d gaze dazed him, too, or not. He hadn’t spoken to me again since Monday. And the few times I saw him in the cafeteria later in the week, he always looked away with a frown.
    Boys were just plain weird.
    Including Tristan, because he’d started acting differently all week, too. It was like the wall that separated us in my frequent dreams about him had stretched out to divide us in my waking life, as well. Even with my senses wide-open, I couldn’t feel his magnetic tug anymore when we were in algebra class together. And while I’d never thought it possible before, I missed having his legs and feet at either side of me now that he’d started to keep them folded under his desk. I also missed the way he used to whistle Nutcracker music to annoy me. And the way he used to stare at me in the cafeteria. Lately, he’d started skipping lunch, choosing to stand outside against a tree near the picnic tables instead. I caught myself searching for him in his new spot as my friends and I left the cafeteria each day. Some crazy part of me yearned to make eye contact with him, to see if he could be gaze dazed, too. But he always kept his eyes closed. My head said that was a good thing. My heart said something else.
    And then there were all the other little things that added up to make the hours at school long and lonely. I still had my friends, but not being able to make eye contact with anyone made me feel like I was cut off from the world around me. Even weirder was the Red Sea effect that happened every time I walked through the halls. It was subtle, but people moved away from me as if I had something contagious they didn’t want to catch. Worse, they didn’t even seem aware that they were doing it.
    But why? I didn’t feel that different from before I got sick.
    The one good thing that came out of it all was my continued progress in dance. Because of those improvements, dancing had become my one relief. When the music played, I got lost in it. For a few precious minutes, I could forget the craziness, the family secrets, all the weirdness that set me apart from everyone around me. When I danced, not only was I no longer a freak or an embarrassment, but I was actually good at something. And getting better at it every day.
    So deciding to try out for the Charmers Dance/Drill Team was sort of natural. Where else would I ever fit in at this school, unless it was among other dancers? If I became a Charmer, I wouldn’t be a freak anymore. The Charmers were like mini celebrities, not just at our school but in Jacksonville, too, because of all the awards they won every winter at dance competitions. Every time they brought home another trophy, they were featured on the front page of the Jacksonville Daily News, earning our school’s and entire