No Tomorrow in Greyhaven

"Look at this one," Vanessa sneered, slapping a piece of printer paper against the metal locker door.

"Leave it alone, Vanessa," I muttered, hugging my arms across my chest.

The girls' locker room felt like a meat locker. The heating had been broken all week.

"Vivienne leaps from third floor," a girl named Chloe read aloud, tracing the ink with a manicured nail. "Tragic end for local socialite."

"I just want my gym clothes," I said.

Vanessa laughed, stepping into my space. "You don't belong here, Evie. You're a freak. Just like she was."

She shoved me hard. My spine slammed against the freezing tile wall.

"Lock her in," Vanessa ordered.

Chloe grabbed the heavy metal door and yanked it shut. The deadbolt clicked into place. Total darkness consumed the room.

I sank to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. The cold seeped through my thin uniform shirt, settling deep into my bones.

Then, a sound broke the silence.

Sneakers crushed the scattered ice chips on the hallway floorboards.

Paper tore. Rip after violent rip.

The deadbolt snapped back. The door swung wide open.

Adrian Hale filled the frame.

He stepped inside, backing me into the corner. His massive shoulders formed a human shield, blocking Vanessa and her crew from my sight.

"What are you doing, Hale?" Vanessa demanded, her voice shrill.

Adrian dropped the shredded newspaper clippings onto the wet tiles.

"Pick someone who'll hit back," he said, his tone a dangerous, low rumble. "Or teach her how."

No one spoke. The silence stretched until Vanessa finally scoffed, grabbed Chloe’s arm, and bolted down the hall.

Adrian turned to me. He didn't offer his hand. He just waited until I stood up on my own.

We ended up at a 24-hour diner on 4th Street. The air inside smelled heavily of burnt grease and cheap coffee.

Adrian pushed a plastic basket of fries across the scratched formica table.

"Eat," he ordered.

"They're cold," I pointed out.

"Better than starving."

He slid a steaming ceramic mug toward me. Hot chocolate.

"You spent your last five dollars on this," I said, staring at the whipped cream melting on top.

"I get paid tomorrow," he replied.

He leaned back against the red vinyl booth. As he moved, his jacket collar shifted. A dark, jagged bruise peeked out from the side of his neck.

"That's not from a hockey stick," I noted.

Adrian scoffed, adjusting his collar to hide the mark. "My uncle Graham."

"He hits you?"

"He drinks. He remembers my dead mother. He swings." Adrian grabbed a cold fry and tossed it into his mouth. "Graham took the trust fund after the crash. I got the fists."

"I thought your parents died in an accident," I whispered.

"Victor Kessler ran them off the highway," Adrian corrected, his jaw clenching tight. "Everyone called it an accident. Kessler bought off the cops and walked away clean."

He stared out the window into the snowy night. Two abandoned souls, anchored to a sticky diner table.

"Come out back," I told him, sliding out of the booth.

We walked into the dark alley behind the kitchen. The freezing wind bit at my cheeks, but the brick walls offered a shield from the snow.

I pulled a small plastic bottle of antiseptic and a cotton swab from my backpack.

"Lift your chin," I instructed.

He obeyed, leaning his head back against the brick.

I dabbed the soaked cotton against the split skin on his jawline, then moved to the purple marks on his neck.

He didn't flinch. His heavy gaze stayed locked on my face.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

Adrian tilted his head down. A reckless smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"Not when you're touching it."

Three days later, a massive thunderstorm rolled over Greyhaven, knocking out the school's power grid.

Rain hammered the glass panes of the empty chemistry lab. We had slipped inside to avoid the chaotic hallways.

Adrian clicked on a heavy-duty flashlight, setting it on the teacher's desk so the beam hit the ceiling.

"Coach needs these emergency forms filled out," he said, holding a pen over a clipboard. "What's your birthday, Evie?"

The room spun.

My stomach twisted into a painful knot. The memory of my mother's shredded photograph flashed behind my eyes. The sound of the shears. My grandmother’s icy voice blaming me for the screams.

The blood drained from my face. My hands started shaking uncontrollably.

"Evie?" Adrian dropped the pen. It clattered against the floor. "Hey. Look at me."

I couldn't speak. A single tear slipped down my cheek, hot and fast.

He stepped into my space, pressing my back gently against the edge of the lab table.

He lowered his head. His lips brushed against the corner of my eye, catching the tear before it could fall any further.

The sudden warmth of his mouth sent a shockwave straight through my chest.

"I don't have a birthday," I choked out, gripping the edge of the table.

"Okay," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "Then we don't celebrate your birthday."

He pulled back just enough to look directly into my eyes.

"We celebrate the day you decided to stay."

The dismissal bell rang a few minutes later, echoing through the dark corridors.

We didn't go to the buses.

Adrian grabbed my hand and dragged me out the side doors into the storm.

Rain soaked through my uniform instantly. The wind whipped violently across the open football field.

We ran.

My lungs burned, but a wild, unhinged laugh tore from my throat.

Adrian stopped at the fifty-yard line. He spun around and pulled me flush against his chest.

Water dripped from his dark hair. His grip on my fingers tightened like a vice.

"When we turn eighteen," he shouted over the roaring thunder, "we leave Greyhaven."

"Where do we go?" I yelled back, wiping the rain from my eyes.

"Anywhere. We find a place where no one knows us. We build a cabin no one can kick us out of."

I stared up at him. The storm raged around us, but his face was perfectly clear.

I had finally found the light in my endless dark.

But Greyhaven never let anyone escape that easily.

The next morning, I walked into the school courtyard, ready to find Adrian by his locker.

Instead, I found two police cruisers parked aggressively by the main entrance.

And Adrian, hands cuffed behind his back, being shoved into the rear seat of a squad car.