Forbidden Fruit by Anna Lee

night. "So, did anything happen to you last night?" I asked cautiously.
    "Hell yeah, you want details?" she asked knowing I would say no.
    "I don't mean with Eric. Did anything strange happen last night?"
    "I don't follow."
    That confirmed it for me. If something even half as strange or scary happen to her she would know exactly what I was talking about.
    "Never mind."
    "Okay..." she gave me a worried look.
    "I think I just had a bad dream that seemed real, that’s all."
    "I have those all the time, like, I wake up and I'm confused, and I think I'm still in the dream but I'm not," she chattered as she applied blush in the mirror.
    I would have loved to convince myself it was all a dream, there would be comfort in knowing nothing really goes bump in the night, but deep down I knew what I experienced was real. I shivered involuntarily. I was being haunted, and I had no idea why. Hell, I didn’t even know what was haunting me. If only I could get a look under those black folds to glimpse what the grim reaper had in store for me.
    "Yeah, I'm sure that’s all it was," I lied.
     
    School started out normal that day, except Jason was absent. I guessed he had gotten in trouble after all. So much for trying to save his ass.
    I walked into good old Mr. Brody’s class not at all looking forward to the boring lecture that was as sure to come as the sunrise. He was nothing if not consistent. The man wore the same tacky cardigan, with dull khakis and penny loafers every single day. The only article that changed was the color of the collared shirt beneath the disastrous argyle sweater straight from the seventies.
    Last night was another sleepless night, and the exhaustion was finally hitting me. All I wanted to do was go home, curl up in my comfortable bed, and take a year-long nap.
    I lazily slid into my seat, and started rifling through my backpack to find the essay due today. I pulled it out, happy to turn it in and never see the horrid thing again. Mr. Brody collected the mini novels and then sauntered to the board to write our daily agenda. A few dates and events let me know that we would be discussing some war of sorts a few hundred years back, Mr. Brody’s specialty.
    Several giggles and a few whispers had me turning with curiosity to see what all the commotion was about. Of course, how could I forget? It was the super delicious new guy, Michael. He strode through the room with a presence that broadcasted that he owned the place. He wasn’t brooding, but he exuded a confidence that radiated power and therefore dominance. It was a simple fact. And it was so hot.
    When I realized I was practically drooling over him, I gave myself a much needed mental slap and promptly looked toward Mr. Brody, who apparently was not at all effected by Michael’s presence. Then again, I am pretty sure he doesn’t often notice anything unless it’s talking or chewing gum. I began jotting down the events he wrote, hoping I appeared to be nothing more than a studious, eager learner, instead of the ogling, boy crazy person I truly was at that moment.
    Michael folded his large body into the seat next to mine. A darkly exotic fragrance tickled my nose. I forced myself to keep a passive, hopefully indifferent expression on my face. I mentally chanted to myself, don’t look over at him, don’t look, don’t look …then I looked.
    Busted.
    Damn it! He caught me. The second I looked over those black eyes locked onto mine. A jolt of energy sizzled through my chest. Wait…he caught me looking at him…but then that would mean he was looking at me. Why did he always look at me?
    Those bottomless eyes bore into mine for several seconds more, hell maybe it was years. I could feel the heat of my cheeks reach what had to be an unattractive shade of maroon. Was I embarrassed? No, not really. He made me feel…nervous, yes, but also special, beautiful, worthy… My mind wondered how he could make me feel so much without doing or saying anything. I didn’t