Crave (Harlequin Teen)

couldn’t look at her as we walked up the steps to the catwalk. I peeked behind me, but he was nowhere in sight. “Okay, thanks for walking with me. See you tomorrow.”
    “Promise you’ll call if you need me?”
    I nodded, the lump in my throat keeping me from speaking as I hurried off to class.
    But I might as well have skipped history today for all that I heard in there. The only thing I could focus on was Greg’s ring. I couldn’t stand the feel of it against my skin, so I took it out of my shirt. And remembered how easily he’d held me captive outside my house after the homecoming dance.
    He’ll snap out of it, I tried to reassure myself. This is Greg, after all.
    Not anymore. Only one direct look from my eyes, and I’d turned him into someone else. Something else.
    A little more time, more space, it’ll be fine, I thought again, needing to believe it, to believe that I still had it all under control. That this would turn out to be just a bad memory soon. Because this could not be a permanent change I’d created. If it was…
    If this was a permanent change, it would be all my fault.
    Deep down, though, I knew this was already my fault. Even if the effect eventually wore off and Greg went back to his normal, sweet self, I wasn’t sure I could ever forget feeling like this. Even those boys from algebra last year hadn’t actually touched me, and they’d been scary enough without the physical contact. I had the proof on my wrist today to show just how far Greg had been willing to go in a crowded cafeteria. What might he have done if we’d been somewhere alone together?
    Would I ever be able to go on a date with him again without some part of me being afraid?
     
    At the end of the day, I found a note from Greg in my locker, full of rambling apologies and promises that he wouldn’t be rude to me or his friends like that again. I read the letter then folded it up and put it back in my locker. I wasn’t sure what I should do yet. But I knew I wasn’t ready to talk to him.
    He called that night, but I pretended to be asleep when Nanna checked so I wouldn’t have to speak to him. When I was sure she had ended the call, I snuck out, grabbed the cordless extension and began to dial my father’s phone number. Then stopped.
    What would my father do if he found out I’d gaze dazed my boyfriend? What would the vampire council do? They’d already threatened my entire family just to get me to stop dancing. If they found out I had vampire eyes and could sense others’ emotions around me…
    I remembered Mom’s words from last year, about how both sides feared I would become a secret weapon for their enemies to use against them. If I told my father that I’d gaze dazed someone, would the council demand that I side with them against the Clann? Would they take me away from Nanna and Mom?
    No, that could not happen. I couldn’t risk anyone knowing about this. I would just have to find a way to deal with it on my own, like I had before.
    Besides, it would all be fine soon. Greg would recover and go back to his ordinary, sweet self. He had to. Because if he didn’t, I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do.
     
    The next day, I stopped by the girls’ bathroom before lunch. Greg would be waiting for me in the cafeteria. What if he wasn’t recovered yet, or was in the process of recovering, and seeing me again set him back somehow?
    The only safe option was to stay away from him and hope that a little more time and distance would help the effects wear off faster.
    I didn’t look in my locker that day, not wanting to find any more borderline-insane letters from Greg. When I got home after Charmers practice, the first words out of my mouth to Nanna were to tell anyone who called for me that I was sleeping. Thankfully she didn’t press for an explanation, though the look in her eyes promised she would soon if the problem continued. The sound of the phone ringing an hour later made me want to throw up.
    On Wednesday at lunch, I peeked through the narrow windows of the cafeteria doors, took one look at Greg’s wild hand gestures and wide eyes at my friends’ table, and my feet steered me right back to the nearest girls’ bathroom.
    I leaned against the long counter and stared at my reflection in the mirror. How could such ordinary, boring-looking eyes like mine cause so much trouble? This was ridiculous. I couldn’t keep spending my lunch breaks in the bathroom. If Greg didn’t recover soon, I would