I shook my head. "It was all lies."

"You're admitting that you've done nothing but lie to me?" His fingers tightened around my neck.

I gasped. "No! That's not what I meant. You're misunderstanding everything. What I had with him was the lie. He was the lie. You were right about him all along."

"Too late," he said thickly. "You've realized this too late."

"It doesn't have to be too late. Forgive me and give me another chance. Don't let us end like this."

I watched as several emotions played across Erik's face. I could easily see anger and even hatred, but there was also sadness and maybe, just maybe, what looked like hope waiting quietly way back in the warm summer sky blue part of his eyes.

Then all of a sudden the sadness and hope flattened from his expression. "No! You acted like a slut, so now you get a slut's reward!"

With a seriously crazy look in his eyes, he seemed to grow even taller until he towered over me. He stepped close, taking one hand from my throat so that he could use that arm to hold me locked against him. His other hand was big enough that it reached almost all the way around my neck. As he squeezed, our bodies were pressed together, and I felt a wild rush of white-hot desire for him. I knew it was wrong. I knew it was weird, but my heart was pounding with more than fear or nerves. I stared into his eyes, feeling Desdemona's terror along with my own passion, and I knew by the hardness in his body that he was feeling the same things. He was Othello--crazed with jealousy and anger, but he was also Erik--the guy who had been falling in love with me and had been hurt so badly when he'd found me with another guy.

His face was so close to mine that I could feel his breath against my skin. His scent was familiar, and it was that familiarity that decided me. Instead of pulling away from him or continuing with the improv and "fainting" in his arms to pretend I was dead, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into me, closing the short distance between our lips.

I kissed him with everything in me. I put all my pain and sorrow and passion and love for him into that kiss, and his mouth opened under mine, meeting me passion for passion, pain for pain, and love for love.

And then the stupid bell rang.

Chapter Twenty

Oh. My. Goddess. The ringing bell was like a fire alarm. Erik broke away from me, and the class burst into cheers and a chorus of Okie "Whoo-Hoo!" and "That was hawt!" I would have fallen over if Erik hadn't kept a hold of my hand.

"Bow," he said under his breath to me. "Smile."

I did as he said, somehow bowing and forcing myself to smile like my world hadn't just exploded. As the kids filed out, Erik spoke in his teacherly voice again.

"Okay, remember to take a look at Julius Caesar. Tomorrow we're improv-ing from that one. And you guys did a good job today."

When the last kid had walked out the door, I said, "Erik, we have to talk."

He dropped my hand like I'd burned him. "You better get going. You don't want to be late to your next class, too." Then he turned away from me and walked into the drama office, closing the door with a slam! behind him.

I bit my lip hard to keep from bursting into tears as I bolted from the drama room, face burning with humiliation. What the hell had just happened? Well, I knew one thing for sure, even if it was only one thing, and that was that Erik Night was still interested in me. Sure, the interest might be focused mostly on wanting to strangle me. But still. At least he wasn't as all grown and unfeeling and whatever about me as he'd tried to pretend he was. My lips felt sore from the intensity of our kisses. I lifted my hand, running a finger over my bottom lip gently.

I started to walk, not looking at the fledglings that passed by me on their way to class, and didn't actually even pay attention to where I was until the croaking caw of a raven sounded from the branches of a tree beside the sidewalk.

With a shiver I came to an abrupt halt and peered up into the dark tree. As I watched, the night wavered and folded, like tallow dripping down a black candle. There was something about it--something about whatever it was in the tree that made my knees weak and my stomach hurt.

Since when had I become such a victim--such a scared little girl?

"Who are you!" I yelled at the night. "What do you want?" I straightened my shoulders, deciding that I was sick of this stupid hide-and-seek game. I might be heartbroken about Heath and confused about Stark, and I might not be able to do crap about the mess I'd made with Erik, but I could do something about this. So I was going to march over there to those trees and call wind to shake whatever it was up there watching me down so that I could kick its butt. I was tired of feeling weird and afraid and totally not myself, and--