Page 7 of Please Don’t Go (The Midnight Strike #1)

DANIEL

I’m very good at pretending.

I’ve gotten so good at it, the lies easily slide off my tongue like slicing butter. That’s how smooth they are, how easy they are for me to come up with on the spot.

That’s why as I sit next to Josie, I’m acting like nothing ever happened. I’m smiling and being myself because that’s what I need to do. But if I’m being honest, for the first time in a long time, it’s killing me having to act like nothing ever happened.

We’re in a room full of people, so it’s not like I can say much to begin with, but even if it were just Josie and me, I have a feeling she wouldn’t say anything. I have a feeling she’d act like she didn’t almost end her life.

She’s already doing a good job at it. Face expressionless, brown eyes empty, but posture a little too stiff. Despite that, she looks like any other person on the first day of class.

But unlike everyone else, I saw past the wall she now has up. I saw it and I should let it go because it seems she has, but I can’t.

If her posture was rigid before, she’s now a boulder, body tensing when Professor Carleson announces that he likes to use the buddy system when we go hiking.

Whoever we’re sitting with will be our partner for the rest of the semester, and we can’t switch.

He also wants us to do an icebreaker with our partner to get to know one another and to post our questions and responses on Canvas in the discussion board.

Canvas is a website the university uses to manage all classes, and the discussion board is something all professors use to promote engagement. I don’t hate it, but it’s tedious to use when they make you reply to two other students’ posts.

As I grab my laptop, Josie switches her thick planner with her own, but she never looks at me. Even after we’ve logged in and opened the discussion board, she doesn’t glance my way.

I wish it didn’t bother me, but it does.

She drums her fingers on her keyboard, lips pinched to the side as if she were considering what she wants to ask.

I decide to break the ice first. Might as well. I have a feeling we’ll sit here all day if I wait for her to ask something.

“If you could have any superpower, what would it be?” I ask as I type the question.

Her brows pinch but lips part then close like she doesn’t know how to answer that. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

“What?” My eyes slightly widen, and I turn to look at her, but still doesn’t move. “You’ve never thought about it? That’s going to change today. You have to pick one.”

Her brows stay pinched, indenting the faintest crease. “What’s the point? They’re not real, so it’s not like it matters.”

I grin. “It’s called imagination, Jos. Ever heard of it?”

She spins in her seat to face me, pinning me with an unamused expression. She could be shooting me daggers and I’d welcome it. I’d rather have her eyes on me than not. But only because it’s hard to get a read on her.

“All right, what would you pick?” she bounces my question back to me.

My grin broadens because it’s not something I need to think about. I’ve known since I was six. “Elemental control.”

She stares, perplexed. “What’s that?”

“Controlling and manipulating the elements like water, air, fire, and earth.”

“That’s a thing?”

The severely confused expression on her face is cute. “Of course it’s a thing. Just imagine how powerful I’d be if I had it. I’d be unstoppable.” And having the ability to control water would mean I wouldn’t be afraid of it.

Well, it’s not the water itself I’m afraid of, but swimming in the deep.

A memory, one I hadn’t thought about in a while, plays in my head as if the moment had just occurred a second ago. The reminder of that day sends my mind spiraling and my heart racing for a moment. That is until my attention shifts to Josie and it all subdues.

She cocks her head to the side, eyes searching mine as if she had noticed I had slipped into a dark place I’ve been avoiding. But she must’ve realized I caught on because her back straightens and she draws her eyes to her fingers covered in rings.

There’s so many of them, in different shapes and colors.

“So what would your superpower be?” I ask again.

Her knee bounces next to mine, but it’s brief, before she moves it away. “Invisibility, I guess. It’s probably not a good one, but it works.”

There’s a twinge of vulnerability that seeps with her words, despite how dry they are. She also sounds embarrassed, like she was trying to make a joke of it.

The thought unfurls annoyance in my head and slithers to my chest. I shouldn’t overanalyze, but something tells me someone fucked with her. They must’ve made fun of her, made her feel small or some kind of way to be like this.

I hope I never find them because I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold back if I do.

“You’re going to have to pick something else.”

She looks up at me again, earthy brown eyes a little angry, a little embarrassed. “Why?”

“Because I don’t think it’s working. I see you, Jos.”

The emotions in her eyes dissolve as she takes in my words and her lips part just a tad, but she doesn’t say anything. I know she’s reading through the lines, understanding what I said, what I meant.

“I’m just saying, to be invisible, your superpower has to work. So pick something else,” I say to fill the void.

She ponders over it, and I can tell she’s really thinking it through. Her lips are slightly pursed, fingers twirling the ring on her middle finger on the opposite hand, and her head is tipped to the side.

I smile, not sure if she realizes she’s doing it.

“Telekinesis,” she settles on with a small lilt in her voice.

“Just imagine how unstoppable we’d be? The duo the world never knew it needed.” I type her response. “We need names.”

“Names?”

“Yeah, all superheroes have one. We’ll need secret identities too. I’m no Clark Kent, but I can pull the hell out of some glasses.”

I peek up then look back at my screen but do a double take on her face. I swear I just saw her lips crack a smidge. Did she smile? Holy shit, did I just make Josefine smile?

It was hardly anything, but I know a smile when I see one.

We’re only eight days into the year, but I think that’s probably going to be the highlight of it.

“You look like you’d be able to pull them off,” she absently says, as if she were just pointing out a fact but…

Don’t read into it. Don’t read into it.

“Are you flirting with me?” I arch a brow, doing everything in my power not to look smug as fuck when the faintest coat of red appears on the apples of her cheeks.

“That’s not flirting,” she quickly fires back, the red slipping away as if it were never there.

“Kind of sounded like it.”

She shoots me a vexed expression. “I was just making a statement. If I was flirting with you, which I’m not, you would know.”

Propping my elbow on the table, I rest my chin on the heel of my palm, flashing her a coy smile. “Then you’re going to have to show me what you consider flirting because I still believe you were.”

She stares at me for a beat like she’s contemplating it, but then she shakes her head.

“It’s my turn. What’s your major?”

“Boo.” I point my thumb downward. “That’s no fun, but I’m majoring in Studio Art like you.” My eyes widen and so do hers. I didn’t mean to slip up.

“You read up on me?”

“It’s called research,” I lamely quip.

“Why would you need to do research on me?”

“Just wanted to know more about Josefine Resendiz.” It’s the best and only response I can give her. Though I know she knows why, and I don’t further explain due to the listening ears around us.

For a moment, neither one of us says a word. Maybe she’s found herself at a loss for them like I have.

Though it’s not that I don’t have the words. I have many of them. I just don’t know how to put them together to voice what I want to ask. I don’t want to invade her space, make her uncomfortable with my inquisition, but I also want to know about her because the internet only gives you so much.

“There’s not much to know.” She shrugs.

“There’s always something to know.”

“We’re strangers.”

“Friends.”

“We can’t be friends. We don’t know anything about each other.”

“At some point, you’re going to have to stop using that as an excuse.”

She scoffs. “It’s not an excuse. And who said I wanted to be your friend?”

“Everyone wants to be my friend,” I retort with a grin. When her eyes cast to it, she glowers, but then her face becomes blank.

“They must feel bad for you.”

“So, feel bad for me and be my friend.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You mean good looking?”

She softly groans. “We’re getting off track.”

“Put me back on it then. You’re kind of making it hard to focus.” My grin deepens.

She drags a deep inhale, like she’s trying to muster every ounce of patience she has left. I shouldn’t like this, but I do. I really do.

“You did that all on your own. Also, that’s not called research, that’s called stalking.”

“Can’t be stalking if it’s all available on the internet. Though I did find out through Pen that you teach swim lessons. That aside, everything I learned about you is online. Blame whoever put it there.”

“You’re weird.” She aggravatedly punches the keys, typing a few very basic questions.

“And you’re no fun. Are you minoring in anything? ” I read off her question from the screen. “I’m not, but you can ask me anything; I’m an open book. For now, you’re going to have to wait your turn because it’s mine. If you could watch any show for the rest of your life, which would it be?”

“I don’t watch TV.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. It never interested me,” she replies. Something tells me she’s lying but I don’t push. “Well…when I was younger, I watched Rebelde .”

Good, common grounds. “Which was your favorite character?”

“Roberta.”

“She was mine too.” I type her response.

Now she cocks a brow.

“I was young and she was hot. Don’t look at me like that. I bet you crushed on Miguel, huh?”

“No, it was Diego. I know he was a douche, but he was hot.”

“But not as hot as me, right?” I joke because I don’t like hearing the sadness in her voice.

“I want to meet the person who over inflated your ego. I need a word or two with them.”

And I want to meet the person who fucked her over. I’ll have more than words with them.

I chuckle at her grimace. “My mom, but can you blame her? Just look at me.” I wave a hand down the side of my face. “I’m devastatingly good looking.”

“Mmm…devastatingly annoying.”

“Your denial is showing.”

“I never said you weren’t good looking. I just said…fuck. I’m done talking to you.” She furiously moves her fingers along the keys, typing a bullshit-ass response. “I think we’ve broken the ice.”

I smirk, feeling smug. “We’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“Daniel,”

“Yes, Jos?”

“Shut up.” She side-eyes me, her face tinged with frustration.

I bite back a laugh, lips twitching as I fight them from parting. “Okay, but I need to ask one more thing.”

“What?”

“Did you see my Post-it?” I knew there would be a big possibility she’d throw it away, but I wanted her to know she has someone she can talk to.

She falters as she closes her laptop. “Yeah, I saw it.”

“Anytime, don’t hesitate. I’m here for you.”

I expect silence and nothing in return but then she stuns me when she nods and says, “I’m only keeping it because we’re going to be hiking buddies.”

So, she’s had it for four days. She can’t say it’s because of this class because I left that before today. Don’t get excited, dumbass. Act cool. Be cool. Play. It. Cool.

“Cool.” Cool? Why did I say that?

“Are we done?” she asks and I realize I zoned out.

“Yeah, we’re done.” I type out a few things on my laptop as she stands, grabs her bookbag, and pushes her chair in.

As she throws it over her shoulder, she goes to walk away but then spins and stands in front of me.

“Miss me already?”

She huffs out a quiet puff of air, like she’s uncertain about what she’s going to say. “What’s your favorite color?”

My smile slips and my heart oddly races. “Green.”

“Okay.” She walks away and I’m left staring at the spot she was at with my heart racing abnormally fast.