Sunsweet Community College was dark and empty when the boy pulled Dreya along through the covered walkway. Her giggle echoed off the stone walls

  “Are you sure about this?” Her raspy voice hissed as he swung them around a corner. “This is where you wanted to take me?”

  “Absolutely positive.” He grinned confidently over his shoulder, an arrogant lift to his high brow.

  The boy came to a stop beneath another covered walkway, where a water fountain hummed against the wall and ivy crawled across the stone.

  “Do you go to school here?” She asked, her big, blue eyes wide and curious.

  He smiled, “Not anymore.” He didn’t mention that he’d dropped out last year, that his parents were infuriated, and that this little outing had been a way to clear his mind.

  “It’s a beautiful campus,” she turned her head with interest, touching the rough, stone walls.

  The college had once been a national park, filled with fountains and museums. It had been turned into a high school after, and now it was a college, the classes taking place in the same buildings that mummified corpses and stuffed mammoths in their glass coffins had once resided.

  “There’s a secret path that’ll get us to the roof of the main office,” said the boy, slowly easing himself up to her, until they were so close that he could smell the rose perfume behind her ears. “You’ll love it,” he promised.

  It was far enough into summer that the evenings were sticky and humid, but when he placed his hands on the girl’s arms, her skin was cool and dry. She allowed him to back her up against the wall, to slide his hand beneath the skirt of her black dress, which he was oh-so-eager to remove.

  “I don’t like heights,” she purred. “Can’t we just stay down here?” Dreya looped her arms around his neck and fluttered her long, curling eyelashes at him.

  “If you like,” he eagerly agreed, because one of her hands was now sliding down his chest, inching enticingly closer to his belt.

  He watched its progression with heavy lidded eyes, until a sound – like a shoe scuffing the ground – drew the girl’s attention, and she froze, her eyes blowing wide.

  “What was that!?” she hissed anxiously.

  The boy smiled. She was cute when she was afraid; big blue eyes wide, succulent lips parted. For a moment, he let her be terrified – after all, in his experience, fear could be a powerful lubricator.

  Only when it seemed as if she might push him away did he try and comfort her, saying, “Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” as he curled a strand of her straight, black hair around his finger. “Probably just another couple doing exactly what we’re doing.”

  She turned back to him, lifting her thin eyebrows. “And what, exactly, are we doing?” She teased.

  It was like flipping a switch, how she went right back to being flirtatious, her pretty mouth curved into a smirk, her blue eyes twinkling playfully. He’d chosen her because of her low-cut dress and ballet flats, for the way she was standing all alone with a single glass of sprite in her hand at the back of the club. He’d hardly expected the lusty, all-too-willing bombshell that had followed him onto a college campus after hours.

  “Let me show you,” he flirted playfully, leaning in to capture her lips in a kiss.

  She moaned, allowing him to part her lips with the tip of his tongue.

  Another abrupt, unwanted sound broke the moment; this one was louder, as if someone had kicked an aluminum can, or a trash bin. His date tore her mouth away from his with a startled gasp and shoved at him with her small, delicate hands.

  “There’s someone there!” she hissed.

  The boy fought the urge to roll his eyes, growing a touch impatient with the constant interruption. “There’s dorms a few blocks away,” he confessed. “Someone’s probably just taking a walk. Calm down, would you?” He caged her against the wall, one hand beside her head while the other caressed her bare arm as he promised, “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  He leaned in to kiss her, but footsteps crunched from somewhere nearby, and she turned her head, chewing at her lower lip.

  “What if it’s not a student?” She whispered anxiously. “What if it’s… a monster?”

  He did laugh then, a short and abrupt sound of surprise. Sunsweet, California was drenched with rumors of cryptids and monsters that walked the night and preyed on young, unsuspecting flesh, but believing in them was like believing in the Loch Ness Monster, or Big Foot.

  “You aren’t afraid of the boogeyman, are you?” He taunted.

  She scowled at him, lower lip protruding in an absolutely adorable pout.

  “Not the boogeyman,” she replied querulously, “But maybe something else… something that eats handsome, young men like you.”

  He lifted his eyebrows, amused, “Like what?”

  Just then, a flutter of movement caught his eye, and he turned his head to the left. Standing at the end of the covered walkway was the tallest man the boy had ever seen, his shoulders so wide and broad that they blocked out much of the light from the lampposts situated beyond the mouth of the hall.

  The boy scowled, opening his mouth to tell the guy to get lost, when his date’s soft, rasping voice caught his attention.

  “Like vampires,” she replied belatedly.

  He turned back to her.

  And screamed.

  In the place of the beautiful, raven haired girl was a monster; her pupils were gigantic and glassy, her mouth stretched wide across her face, lips parted in a gruesome leer. And her nose – it was the wide, fleshy nose of a bat, starting above her upper lip and stretching to a point below her brows.

  “What the fuck are you!?” He screamed, taking a startled step backwards–only to bump up against a hard, solid body.

  “What’s wrong, boy?” said the man from the end of the hall.

  The man gripped his upper arms, bending down so that the air he breathed caressed the shell of his ear.

  “Please,” he rasped.

  “Come now,” said the man, smiling, “You don’t believe in monsters, do you?” He shoved him forward, back towards Dreya, who caught him, and yanked him closer with a fistful of his t-shirt.

  Pain shot through him. He screamed, but there was a meaty hand over his mouth, cool fingers to muffle the sound of his agony as the girl in the black dress tore into him with her long, sharp teeth.

  ***

  In a three bedroom house in Sunsweet, California, Josie Powers slept, and not soundly.

  She was dreaming again–if you could call the nightmares that played through her subconscious a dream. It was more like fast forwarding some home video someone had made a decade ago, only with unnerving images of pools of blood and fire instead of laughing babies and little league games.

  Underground. The walls were packed, the ceiling a gnarled mouth of stalactites. The air smelled dank, like a basement, and hundreds of candles flickered from various heights, making the shadows dance, pools of water turned red by the reflection of their flames.

  A roof top. The city spinning around Josie’s head, the lights from all the buildings like falling stars. Otherlanders tore through the streets, snatching mortals from their safety, sucking them dry and leaving behind the husks. And again and again she saw the gnarled face of Evil, watching her, waiting for her to notice, waiting for her to…

  Josie woke up with a start. As always, the images receded from her, slippery, refusing to sit still. All she could recall was dark water and a face: pale, gnarled, hideously deformed, with the glowing eyes of a predator.

  “Josie!”

  The sound of her mother’s voice had the effect of breaking a spell, yanking Josie from the troubled cocoon that sleep had left behind.

  Sitting up in bed, she rubbed the crust from her eyes, shouting back, “I’m up, mom!” just so Gillian didn’t bother coming up the stairs to collect her.

  “You better get a move on, kiddo!” Gillian’s voice returned, adding, “You don’t want to be late for your first day!”

  Josie made no reply, instead swinging her bare legs over the edge of the bed as she considered what one should wear to their first day at community college. She’d spent the entire week leading up to today trying not to think about it, and now she’d run out of time to procrastinate.

  “Yeah,” she mumbled to herself, pulling open the drawers of her dresser in search of a bra. “Wouldn’t want to be late to my first day of slacker hell.”

  ***

  Gillian drove her to school in her big purple Jeep.

  “Okay, babe,” she said as Josie got out of the car. “Have a great day, okay? And think positive!” She gave Josie a very enthusiastic thumbs-up, with a big grin to match.

  Not at all enthused, Josie managed only a wavering smile as she slipped out of the car. “Thanks, mom.”

  “Have fun!”

  Gillian drove off, leaving Josie surrounded by skateboarders, girls in low-rise jeans sipping iced coffee, a constant flow of back-and-forth. For a moment, Josie hovered at the curb, as if by stalling the moment she stepped onto campus, she could somehow make herself more prepared.

  It was a beautiful campus, dotted with eucalyptus and palm trees and stone fountains with ceramic tile bottoms. Josie knew from reading the pamphlet she’d found stuffed in her mailbox that the space had once been a cultural center, featuring museums and botanical gardens. Now the Spanish Colonial buildings held classes on herbology and photography, Roman poetry, and a veritable ton of other classes that were sure to keep her busy and fitting in.

  Josie took a breath. Well, she thought, here goes nothin’. May as well see where they keep the coffee.

  Josie passed a few vending machines, darting past a bunch of tie-dye wearing skateboarders as they sailed down stair rails and shot over the short staircases throughout. Finally, she came upon a coffee cart, and was too relieved to care that a paper cup of coffee cost her $0.75cents more than what she could have gotten from the little, familiar shop by her old apartment.

  Okay, maybe she cared a little.

  After about two cups and some double-backing, Josie found her way to the Administration building. She’d just finished collecting her rented text books for that semester and was rounding a corner when she slammed into a tall, lanky body, and everything in her arms crashed to the ground.

  “Shit,” Josie grumbled as she dropped to her knees and started shoving books and fallen papers into her arms haphazardly. “Sorry, I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

  The guy she slammed into dropped into a crouch to help her gather her fallen items, indifferent to the students parting around them, as if they were two rocks jamming up the flow of a river.

  “Hey,” said the stranger, “No worries, man. First day jitters, and all.”

  Josie looked up for the first time and their eyes met.

  He was kind of cute, in a grunge band sort of way, with curly brown hair and big brown eyes. Even crouching, she could tell he was taller than the average guy, broad shouldered and thin, made thinner by the over-sized flannel and baggy jeans he wore.

  The lop-sided smile the boy wore evened out as it spread across his face. “I’m Andrew, by the way.”

  Josie got to her feet, Andrew echoing the motion as he handed her the last of her text books. “Josie,” she introduced, shuffling the load in her arms. “Uhm, thanks again. For, you know.” She gestured with the books in her arms.

  “Maybe I’ll see you around, since we go to school together,” said Andrew.

  “Uh…” Josie grinned. “Sure. Totally. That would be great. Well, later!”

  And she left, waving over her shoulder.

  Josie’s first class was only an hour, but it was, of course, the one class she hadn’t procured a textbook for yet, as the last rental had been scooped out from under her.

  Luckily, a girl sitting next to her agreed to share hers, and after class was over, she introduced herself as Libby.

  She was gorgeous; narrow-faced, with well-groomed, thin eyebrows and long eyelashes that bordered big doe eyes, a full mouth with a natural pout. Her skin had a golden sheen underneath it, and her long, dark brown hair fell in waves to her narrow waist.

  “Sometimes the library ends up with extra text books,” Libby told her as they traversed the halls. “You could take a look. But the best place to study is the city library next door.”

  Josie turned an arched brow in Libby’s direction. “Not the campus library?” The pamphlet quoted the space was being gigantic and airy, with study nooks and a fireplace. Josie hadn’t even known there was a city library next door.

  “Oh God!” Libby’s nose wrinkled as she giggled. “No way, girl! The librarian doesn’t have a clue how to run the place, so people are always going into the stacks to makeout,everyone eats in there, and the selection sucks.” She made a face, half disapproving, half disgust. “Come on, I’ll show you where to go.”

  On the way, Libby talked enough for the both of them, eventually stating, “I haven’t seen you around. You’re new, right?”

  “Did you grow up here?” asked Josie.

  Libby grinned. Her smile was bright and white, her teeth all perfect and straight. “I did, yeah! I love this city, don’t you?”

  Josie had only been in Sunsweet for a handful of weeks, but she had to admit that the vibe was a lot more peaceful than what she was used to, which was kind of nice.

  “I’m from L.A.,” she confessed.

  “Oh my god!” Libby clapped her hands together, her eyes bright with excitement. “For real? That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to go. What’s it like? I just know the shopping must be amazing.”

  “You haven’t ever been?”

  It was unusual to meet someone in southern California who hadn’t at least stopped by on the way to somewhere else.

  Libby rolled her eyes. “Daddy says Los Angeles is a cesspool.” She giggled, tossing her dark hair as the wind blew it into her face.

  Josie snickered. She didn’t exactly disagree with Libby’s father, but she missed the city; the companionable noise, the all night restaurants and music venues.

  “Well, the thrift stores are seriously cool,” said Josie, thinking of the one she herself used to work at, with the murals on the walls and the vinyl section, where you could find ACxDC and Sixousie Sioux and The Gogos, three for $10.

  “Thrift store? Like, other people’s used clothing?” Libby’s nose wrinkled, that look of disgust back on her face. “Gross. Tell me about the malls, girl!” She nudged Josie in the ribs with her elbow.

  Josie glanced down at her outfit. Almost everything she was wearing had come from a thrift store, or a box buried in someone’s attic, or the back of a friend’s closet. The black velvet mini-skirt, the white tank top with a teddy bear on it, that matched the backpack she had slung over one shoulder, and a pair of black and white striped tights that ended in her favorite chunky heeled sandals, with the little ankle strap that had hearts dangling from the small gold buckles.

  “Uh… I didn’t spend a lot of time at the malls, actually. Not since I was like, seventeen.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Seventeen, the year that things had all changed, and hang-outs at the mall became something other girls did. Normal girls.

  “Oh.” said Libby. “Cool…”

  Josie stowed those thoughts away and reached up to tuck a strand of her pale hair behind her ear, just to have something to do in the silence that stretched awkwardly between her and the other girl.

  The rest of the short walk commenced in silence. Josie and Libby stood on a red painted curb, peeking down one side of the street and then the other, and then they crossed over onto the side where Josie could already see a sign that read: Sunsweet City Library. Libby led the way around the side of the building, passing a lush green lawn. Josie could see a staircase in the back, and wondered where it led. She was about to ask, but they’d come to the front, where five long, low steps were set into the ground, ascending to the front of the Sunsweet City library, where a bronze door frame glinted in the afternoon sun.

  “Now there’s someone who definitely shops at a thrift store,” Libby stage-whispered, pointing towards a girl sitting on the steps furthest from where they stood.

  The girl in question seemed to flinch, and though she didn’t look their way, Josie knew that she’d definitely heard Libby. Her hair was bright red, gleaming in the sunlight, and her pale face was dotted with an obscene amount of dark brown freckles. She was wearing a pair of denim bell bottoms with fabric flowers sewn into the legs, and a fuzzy mint green sweater, with a slouchy messenger bag open at her side, text books and novels spilling out onto the step at her side.

  “Take a long look,” said Libby, mistaking Josie’s silence for agreement. “I went to high school with that girl – she’s a total loser and always has been. Don’t be that girl.”

  Winking, Libby turned to go, gesturing vaguely over her shoulder in the direction of the building, “I’ve gotta jet, kay? But you should definitely check out the library!”

  Then she was gone, crossing the street in her high heeled sandals, a mini vinyl backpack smacking against the middle of her back.

  Josie began mounting the steps, striding past the girl with an awkward feeling churning in her stomach. She crushed the urge to say something like ‘I’m not really with her’ or ‘sorry about that girl’, choosing instead to keep silent. But it was the girl who spoke, surprising Josie with her soft voice.

  “They’ve changed the librarian,” she said without looking at Josie. “Ms. Hunter retired.”

  “Oh,” said Josie, uncertain of how to respond. “Uh… Well, I’m not really from here, anyway.”

  The girl didn’t say anything, so Josie kept going up the stairs, stopping in front of the door. It was a nice building – sandstone bricks, a glass window fit into the burnished front door. A bell jingled when Josie pushed the door open, as if it were a bookstore and not a library at all.

  It was shockingly cozy inside. Small, round tables occupied much of the space, with mismatched chairs gathered around them. Gleaming, dark wood staircases on either side of the room – one close to Josie, the other on the other side – led to a second floor, separated from the first by gleaming rails only. There, Josie could see rows and rows of tall, wide bookshelves draped in shadow. The bottom floor, too, sported shelves of towering heights, reaching for the ceiling, around which a string of tiny bulbs had been strung.

  Libby hadn’t been exaggerating; there was no one in the room. No heads bent over books, no sound of titles behind shoved back into place. If Josie were the studying type, it would be the perfect place to hunker down and take notes for hours.

  She walked further into the room, quite nearly forgetting what she’d come for. There were potted plants that hung in the windows, shelves that lined the top border of some of the walls and were occupied by strange objects; golden plates painted with hieroglyphics, rocks that looked like clumps of sugar piled atop each other, crystals that blinked in the natural light that poured in. There were jewel-toned curtains pushed back from the windows, bringing to mind Josie’s own living room, and a large, wooden desk that occupied much of one back wall.

  There was a man standing behind the desk, his fingers steepled together as he watched her. Josie started, bumping into a wooden chair with a crescent moon painted on the back, a gasp sticking in her throat.

  Why hadn’t she noticed him looking at her earlier? Concern niggled in the back of her mind, whispering that her instincts had grown dull with disuse.

  Behind the desk, half of the wall was occupied by small, cubby-like shelves, holding yet more strange objects, and beside that was a sort of cage. An iron gate, painted a shade of purple bordering on eggplant, that stood open. Inside, Josie could see crates and boxes, statues with horns and too many eyes, busts of Egyptian deities covered in goldleaf and gemstones.

  Josie frowned, that same niggling feeling making her turn her gaze on the man who must be the librarian.

  “Hi,” she said, and then nothing else as she searched for something more.

  The man merely inclined his head in greeting, but he continued to track her movements as she strode towards the desk, her eyes darting over the cubby holes behind him, the strange things floating in jars, the too-real looking skulls stuffed into cages.

  Then her gaze fell, landing on a book that sat on the counter, beside a cup of pens and a small porcelain Jackalope statue. It was an unusual book to see in a library; long and wide, browning pages, with a heavy cover wrapped in metallic carving. Josie’s heart took to stomping, adrenaline narrowing her focus. Something about it was familiar, calling to memory a past she’d long buried.

  She shot the librarian a look, but he was just an ordinary man: late thirties, sandy blonde hair that tickled the back of his neck and his cheek bones, a square chin and eyes like the blue waters of certain islands. He had a heavy brow and a long, broad nose with a bump in the center that bespoke of it having once been broken. There was some grey in the hair coating his jaw and around his mouth.

  “Something interesting to you?” he asked her after a moment, as if he’d been waiting for her to look her fill.

  She frowned at him, “Wha–” but broke off when he inclined his head toward the strange book.

  A shiver of dread slithered down her spine, the backs of her arms. Josie shook her head. “No.” she said resolutely. “I came for a textbook.”

  “Title?” asked the man, his tone conveying a dull sense of boredom that Josie didn’t quite buy.

  “Uh…” For a moment, she couldn’t remember the title, too thrown by the strange vibe circulating. It came to her as the man lifted his eyebrows. “J. Finnigan’s History of Medieval Poetry.”

  A grunt as the man took a couple of steps back from the desk, searching underneath, the contents of which Josie couldn’t see from her vantage point. After a few seconds, he removed a navy blue textbook with a seriously cracked spine and hefted it across the desk to her.

  “Go ahead n’ keep that,” said the man. “You may as well. I’ll be turning this place into a bookstore soon enough.”

  “Oh, uhm, thanks.” She tucked the book under her arm, frowning, and let herself think out loud. “But… A bookstore? Why?”

  The man’s lips thinned but turned up at the corners in an amalgamation of a smile. “I find I’m ill-suited to serving the public in that way.”

  Josie snickered. He did seem like an anti-social sort of guy. A bookstore would definitely have far less foot traffic than a city library.

  “In addition,” said the man, drawing Josie’s attention once more. “My duties keep me rather… busy. Bookstore owner gives me some…” He waved a hand, circling his wrist, “flexibility.”

  Josie froze, her gaze darting over the man’s face once more as apprehension coiled in her belly. “Duties…” She repeated, jaw hardening, the word flexing in her mind while the stranger behind the counter stared at her with his clear blue eyes.

  It couldn’t be, she thought, desperation mounting, clawing at her very bones. The Guild had left her alone – more or less – for two years. Sure, she’d had to dodge the occasional pesky phone call, and that first year she’d had to change apartments at least twice, breaking her lease the first time before she’d learned her lesson on the merits of short term rentals, but to send someone to her school? No, Josie shook her head, refusing to give in to paranoia, even as it drummed its fingers on her brain.

  “I’m sure you know what I mean,” said the man.

  Josie’s head snapped up. She blinked, hoping to clear the emotion flickering behind her eyes, and said, “Hmm?” feeling as if she’d lost the thread of small talk.

  “Duties,” the man repeated. “Responsibility. Destiny.”

  This time, Josie took a step backwards, and brought the book up against her chest, as if it might shield her from his words.

  “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” she asked, hushed.

  The man didn’t say anything, and his expression was carefully neutral, not giving anything away.

  Another step back, Josie swallowing hard. Maybe she was imagining things, going a little funny behind the ears. But, even as she rushed out of the library, shoving the door open with the flats of her hands, she wondered if the Guild had finally found her, and the tug-of-war that had become her life would begin again.

  As she practically flew down the stone steps outside, she could feel the red head’s eyes following her.

  ***

  Josie left campus immediately, unable to prevent apprehension from dictating her every move. Her mind kept circling back to the strange librarian, the unnerving way he’d stared at her, and the strange things he’d said.

  Duties. Responsibility. Destiny.

  Words Josie never wanted to hear again, and especially not in the context of demon-hunting.

  She chewed on her nails as she wandered through the park, spitting chips of sparkly purple nail polish. What would she do if they had found her? She’d spent two years hiding out in Los Angeles, refusing her ‘destiny,’ living like a normal girl, and Josie wasn’t in any hurry to give that up.

  I never should have come here.

  College was something normal girls did. Girls with futures. Girls who weren’t spending all of their energy on ducking a mission from the Gods.

  Though she didn’t return to Sunsweet Community, Josie didn’t go home, either. Something about her little normal bedroom in her moms ordinary three bedroom house filled her with foreboding, as if it were only a matter of time before they found her there, too.

  Instead, she wandered through Sunsweet until the light turned to honey, and her shadow stretched thin across the sidewalk. Then she ducked into a coffee shop she’d passed at least three times.

  Coffee After Dark – it had a big, black sign with old fashioned lightbulbs stuck inside the letters, and the moment the glass door eased shut behind her, Josie felt herself unclench, at least a fraction. The act of drinking coffee had been a comfort to her ever since she was in high school. She could trace it back to the exact moment, but preferred not to, as it would encourage thoughts of her demon hunting past to resurface.

  So instead, she took a deep, cleansing breath of dark roast, and let her gaze roam the cozy space.

  The walls were cobalt blue, the furniture mismatched, having only two things in common: it was all antique, and it was all upholstered in jewel tones. A mustard velvet couch in a nest of shiny black end tables with animal feet, stained glass lamps, armchairs with arched backs and olive green cushions. Where Josie stood in the front room, there was a vintage dresser with little arched legs, where the coffee station was held. Glass lamps hung low from the ceiling, emitting a soft glue in the warm dark.

  Up front was a short, wooden counter, atop which rested a domed glass pastry case, a tip jar with a sign that read: Is Fiona Apple Aphrodite reborn? Tip if you think so!, and a potted ivy. Josie walked up to it, craning her neck back to scan the chalkboard menu hanging over the cashier’s head. A cashier with black and purple hair and black glasses waited patiently, and smiled when Josie ordered a black coffee with a shot of vanilla.

  It was handed to her in a paper cup with the coffee shop’s name in black script along the side. Josie carried it over to the coffee station, pouring a little bit of cream and a good amount of sugar in, and then she carried her wares around the half wall that separated the front of the room from the rest.

  Like the front, the walls were cobalt, the furniture old but comfortable looking. Lanterns hung at mismatched heights from the tall ceiling, and a stage commanded most of the back space, painted the same shade of blue as the walls, with six point silver stars sprinkled across the wooden boards.

  Josie looked around for somewhere to sit for a minute. There weren’t that many people there, and she had her pick of couch, armchair, and small table, but before she could decide, she spotted a familiar shock of bright red hair, a face full of freckles. The girl from the library. The one Libby had openly mocked.

  Internally cringing, Josie considered just leaving, but she couldn’t bring herself to, especially once the girl looked up and caught her eye.

  Josie tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace pulling at her mouth. She crossed the room, hovering by the little painted table the girl was sitting at, shifting from foot to foot.

  “Uh,” she started lamely, “Hi.”

  The girl frowned. “Did you…” Her eyes slid downward, a confused knit to her forehead. “Did you want me to move?”

  “What? No! Uh. No. I was just wondering…” She made up her mind as the words tumbled out, nodding with her chin to the empty chair across from the girl. “Can I– Do you mind if I sit here too?”

  The girl’s expression said she wasn’t quite sure that she’d heard Josie right, and Josie waited patiently as the red head chewed her lower lip, and then finally shrugged her small shoulders.

  Josie pulled the chair out with one hand, wincing when its antique legs screeched across the old floors. Sitting down, she took a tentative sip of her coffee, resisting the urge to shift under the girl’s steady gaze. She had green eyes, Josie could see now that they were so close to each other. Bright green, like emeralds.

  Finally, the awkward tension was too much for Josie to bear. But as she started to talk, words tumbling out of her mouth, the girl spoke at the same time.

  “Hey, so, sorry about before–”

  “Aren’t you Libby’s friend?”

  Not judgemental, or derisive, but confused, curious.

  “Not really,” said Josie, tapping her nails against the side of the paper cup. “She shared her text book with me and showed me the city library.” Josie had been hoping for a friendship between them, but that hope had been dashed after she’d witnessed the other girl’s cruelty.

  At the mention of the city library, Josie had to work not to tense. The strange man’s cool expression flashed through her mind, and she shoved it down violently, fixing a bright smile on her face. “I’m Josie, by the way. I moved here over the summer.”

  “Calliope,” said the girl, offering Josie a tentative smile of her own.

  For a moment, Josie worried that the other girl would bring up her sudden rush from the library, but she did not. Instead, seeming to relax at last, Calliope reached for a mug – it was comically oversized, white with large black polka-dots.

  “How are you liking Sunsweet?” Calliope asked after a dainty sip of something that smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. “I’ve lived here my whole life, so…” She shrugged a shoulder. “I’m pretty used to it all by now.”

  Josie liked the city fine – warm afternoons, a cool, salty breeze off the ocean, palm trees springing up all over. But before she could say this, Calliope’s gaze shot up, somewhere over Josie’s head, and a bright grin stretched across her elven face.

  “Hey! Andrew!”

  The name rang a bell. Josie twisted around and spotted the curly haired boy she’d collided with in the hall earlier that day. He shifted his smile from Calliope to her, waving as he approached, a skateboard tucked under one arm.

  “Hello again,” said Andrew. Beside him was another boy, tall and lanky, his jet black hair fashioned into spikes, his t-shirt as comically oversized as Calliope’s mug.

  “You’ve met?” Calliope asked, looking between skater boy and Josie.

  “We ran into each other earlier,” joked Andrew, grinning with an amused flash of teeth.

  “You’re an idiot,” said the spiky haired boy, shaking his head with a wry twist to his lips.

  “Yeah, sorry again,” said Josie, wincing, and then to Calliope she explained, “I ran into him in the hall this morning. Almost knocked him on his ass.”

  “Pah!” Andrew waved a hand, “water under the bridge.” Then he gestured to the guy standing next to him and introduced, “This is Luke. Luke, this is my new friend, Josie.”

  “Nice meeting you,” said Luke.

  The boys broke away momentarily, grabbing some chairs from one of the larger tables, which they positioned between Josie and Calliope before squishing in.

  “So, how’s your first day of academic hell?” Andrew joked. He sat in his chair backwards, his arms wrapped around the top, his skateboard leaning against the table leg.

  Josie didn’t mention that she’d skipped the rest of the day – definitely not a good look for her first day. Instead, she shrugged, “Uh, you know, it’s… college.” Switching topics away from herself, she asked, “Are you a freshman too?”

  “We all are,” said Calliope before Andrew could answer.

  “Sunsweet kind of specializes in late starters,” Andrew agreed.

  “The loser school!” Luke shouted, and the boys high-fived in jest.

  “I wish you wouldn’t call it that,” said Calliope with a disapproving frown.

  “I don’t get it,” said Josie, looking around at the three of them.

  “We’re all twenty-two,” Calliope explained.

  “So, you know, not the traditional age of most freshman,” Luke added.

  “I didn’t want to even go,” said Andrew, his chin on his arms. “And Calliope–”

  “Calliope was taking a very long gap year,” the girl finished for him, smiling. “What about you, Josie?”

  “Me?” Josie took a sip of her coffee, glad to find it was still warm through being abandoned to distraction. “I’m twenty-two, also. I…” She paused, considering what version of the truth to give. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to.”

  “You and me both,” said Andrew, reaching across the table to clap her on the shoulder.

  “Oh!” His eyebrows rose, and he stood up to wrestle something out of one of the pockets of his large jeans. When he sat down again, he was handing something to Josie. “Here. You dropped this… uh, whatever this is? – when we bumped into each other.”

  It was a wooden stake, about the size of a dagger. She always had at least one or two handy, usually stuffed into the waistband of her jeans, or in her purse. Josie’s heart leapt into her throat as Andrew shot her a quizzical look.

  “Are you a beaver in your spare time?” He asked playfully.

  Josie forced a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound too weird, too obviously perturbed. How hadn’t she noticed an entire stake rolling out of her bag? Trying not to overreact, she took it from Andrew and stowed it away, saying, “Uh, not exactly. Er…” She wasn’t so good at making stuff up on the spot. Usually she had a cover story, but… “Everyone has them in L.A., for like, self-defense and stuff. It’s like carrying a knife but, you know, legal.”

  If her new friends thought the reasoning odd, they didn’t let on. Andrew let the subject drop, splitting an interested look between Luke and Calliope as he said, “So, did you guys hear that Seventeen Seconds is performing here this weekend?”

  As the three of them dove into a conversation about a small town Indie Rock band, Josie spotted a familiar face rounding the corner. Libby’s eyes lit with recognition when her gaze landed on her, but her expression turned haughty and disapproving when that same scrutiny found who Josie was sitting with. Still, the other girl came towards their table, lifting her chin, a paper cup held in one hand.

  “You just moved here and you’re already slumming it with the peasants?” Libby directed the question to Josie, purposefully ignoring the other three. There was a decidedly haughty tilt to her tone that Josie found irksome.

  “We’re just hanging out,” said Josie coolly.

  The conversation between Andrew, Luke, and Calliope came to a sudden halt. The boys turned a glare in Libby’s direction and Calliope picked up her cup and took a long, occupying, swig.

  “Whatever,” said Libby, rolling her eyes. “I just thought I should warn you about going back to campus tonight; something totally weird happened after lunch. And by totally weird, I mean super freaky.”

  Disquiet settled into Josie’s belly, anxiety lifting its head to sniff the air. “What do you mean?”

  “The soccer coach found a body in the gym,” said Libby, hushed. “Can you believe that!? A dead body!”

  “What!?” exclaimed Andrew and the others at the same time, all with matching tones of horror.

  But Josie only swallowed, her heart fluttering in her chest. “Dead? You’re sure?”

  “Dead!” Libby repeated, “Super dead!” Her mouth formed a pout. “Now I’m going to miss a day of practice –” She flashed a bright smile, at odds with the topic of conversation. “I’m a cheerleader.”

  “Oh woe is you,” Andrew mocked. “You’re sure he wasn’t just a little bit dead, then? Just kind of dead?”

  Libby turned her attention to him for the first time, a scathing glare hardening her dark eyes. “Isn’t there a bong somewhere missing your face attached to it?”

  While Libby and Andrew segued into an argument, Josie tried not to panic. A dead college student, found on campus, on her first day of class? It had to be a coincidence – it just had to be.

  Please be a coincidence, thought Josie.

  “Did you hear anything else?” Josie asked, interrupting the verbal back and forth between Libby and Andrew, both of whom turned towards her as she spoke.

  “God, Powers, morbid much?” Libby made a face, “I overheard one of the professors saying the guy had a puncture wound on his neck.” Her sneer of disgust deepened, a shiver moving through her. “Who stabs someone in the neck? I mean, ick!”

  Josie scarcely heard what she said next, or the quip Andrew spat out that made Libby start in on him again. Her blood ran cold, throbbing in her ears.

  “I have to go,” she mumbled, jumping to her feet.

  She was aware of them all watching her as she hurried away, refusing to meet anyone’s eye. Vaguely, she heard Libby in the background exclaim, “What’s up with her?” But Josie didn’t care.