Echoes in the Quiet

ARIANA'S POV

A scream ripped from my throat, raw and jagged, as I spun around in the dark. Two shadowy claws recoiled from my gaze, glinting in the moonlight, and a figure loomed—black as pitch, its grin wicked and sharp. My pulse thundered, blood roaring in my ears, and my chest tightened as that grin twisted into a snarl. It lunged, claws slashing, fangs bared, and I bolted, my sneakers pounding the wet earth. Panic clawed at me—run, just run—but something gnawed deeper. This wasn't right. None of it made sense.

My foot slipped, and I crashed down, mud soaking my knees. The figure pounced, a predator's blur, and I braced for impact—only to jerk awake, gasping, drenched in sweat. My heart hammered as I shot upright, hands trembling against the leather seat. A dream. Just a dream, I exhaled, shaky, and squeezed my eyes shut, willing the terror to fade. When I opened them, the car's interior swam into focus—Logan's black convertible, still and silent. Rain-streaked windows framed a gray dawn, the storm long gone.

I glanced down, smoothing my tank top over my shorts. My clothes were back on, snug and dry, and heat flooded my cheeks as the night rushed back. Logan's hands peeling them off, his lips on mine, his body claiming me in ways I'd never known. My first time—wild, overwhelming, with a guy I'd just met. I pressed a hand to my mouth, a giddy flutter sparking in my chest, but it soured fast. Where was he?

The backseat stretched empty beside me, the jacket he'd draped over me folded neatly on the floor. My stomach twisted. Had he dressed me while I slept, slipped out without a word? The thought stung, sharp and cold, like I was some fling he'd discarded. I swallowed hard, anger tightening my throat, and strained to listen.

A faint clank of metal drifted from outside—the hood was up, someone tinkering beneath it. I leaned forward, peering through the windshield, and there he was: Logan, bent over the engine, his broad shoulders flexing under his hoodie. Relief washed over me, cool and sudden, but it tangled with something uglier—shame:

I slumped back, hugging my knees. He hadn't left, not really, but the sight of him—so casual, so unbothered—dug at me. Last night, I'd given him everything, my body laid bare in that cramped backseat, and now… what was I to him? A quick conquest? A freshman notch on his senior belt? My fingers curled into fists, nails biting my palms. I'd seen the way guys like him worked back home—charming, smooth, gone by morning. Was that all this was?

The air in the car pressed down, thick and suffocating. I needed out. I shoved the door open, the hinges creaking, and stepped into the damp morning. Puddles shimmered under a pale sky, the ground soft beneath my sneakers. Logan straightened at the sound, wiping greasy hands on his jeans, and turned to me. His golden eyes caught the light, and that smirk—God, that smirk—curved his lips.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, voice warm, effortless.

I froze, the word pinning me like a spotlight. Beautiful. Did he mean it, or was it just a line, a trophy phrase for the girl he'd fucked in his car? My throat tightened, tears prickling behind my eyes, and I sniffed, blinking them back. I couldn't tell—couldn't read him—and that uncertainty burned.

"You okay?" he asked, stepping closer, concern creasing his brow. A spanner clattered onto the engine as he dropped it, moving toward me with that easy stride. Even after a night of sweat and storm, he smelled fresh—pine and earth, untouched by the chaos we'd shared. It unnerved me, how flawless he seemed, while I felt like a mess inside.

I turned my head, avoiding his gaze. I didn't want to see triumph there, didn't want to confirm the story I'd already written in my head: that I was cheap, easy, disposable. The wind whipped past, chilling my skin, and I hugged my elbows tighter, the cold a bitter echo of last night's desperation. "I'm fine," I muttered, my voice thin.

"You don't look fine." His hand brushed my elbow, warm and steady, and that touch—God, it broke me.

Tears spilled over, hot and unstoppable, streaming down my cheeks as I whirled to face him. My shoulders shook, anger surging up from some raw, jagged place inside. "So we are done now, right?" I choked out, my voice cracking. "I mean you got what you wanted—"

He recoiled, eyes widening. "What?" The word came out sharp, like I'd slapped him, and his hands hovered mid-air, uncertain.

"Don't play dumb," I snapped, swiping at my face with trembling fingers. "I know how this game works. You slept with me, okay? You won. Wasn't that the plan—scare me in the gym, charm me into your car, get me naked? You don't have to pretend anymore. Go tell your friends that you won."

"Ariana, what the hell are you talking about?" He splayed his hands, palms up, his voice rising. "I didn't bet with anyone over you. What are you saying?"

His confusion only fueled my fury. I hated how innocent he sounded, how he stood there like he hadn't just turned my world upside down. "Stop it," I hissed, dabbing my eyes harder. "You got me, Logan. You don't have to act clueless while I'm sitting here feeling like—like some slut you used."

"Used?" He stepped closer, his jaw tightening, but his eyes softened, searching mine. "Ariana, I didn't—I wouldn't—"

"Save it," I cut him off, my voice breaking as I took a step back. "I'm done. I'm going." I turned, my sneakers splashing through a puddle, and started walking—fast, away from him, away from the car, away from the ache clawing my chest.

"At least give me your number," he called, his tone softer, almost pleading.

I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound, and spun halfway around. "Why? So you can call me up when you're bored? Keep me on a shelf like some trophy? No, thanks." My words trembled, but I meant them, every syllable a shield against the hurt.

"Ariana, come on," he said, stepping forward, his hands outstretched. "Talk to me."

But I couldn't. I wouldn't. I turned again and ran, my breath hitching as sobs tore free. The wind stung my wet cheeks, matting my hair across my face, and I let the tears fall, unchecked. His voice rang out behind me—"Ariana, wait!"—sharp and urgent, but I didn't stop. I couldn't face him, couldn't bear the chance that he'd laugh, smirk, prove me right.

My sneakers slapped through puddles, the cold seeping into my socks, but I kept going, legs burning, chest heaving. The car park faded behind me, replaced by the campus's sprawling lawns, still glistening from the storm. I ran until his voice was a distant echo, until the only sounds were my ragged breaths and the squelch of my boots. My knees buckled near a cluster of oaks, and I sank against one, sliding down its rough bark to the damp grass.

I hugged my knees, shivering, and let the sobs shake me. Cheap. Used. The words looped in my head, relentless, and I pressed my forehead to my arms, trying to block them out. Last night had felt like magic—his touch, his groans, the way he'd claimed me—but now it was ash. I'd given him everything, my first time, and he'd dressed me up and left me like it was nothing. Had he been laughing while I slept, smug at how easy I'd been?

A rustle snapped me out of it—leaves crunching nearby. My head jerked up, eyes scanning the trees. The air shifted, heavier, and a low growl rumbled through the quiet, chilling my spine. I scrambled to my feet, heart racing again, and squinted into the shadows. Nothing—just branches swaying in the breeze—but that dream flashed back: claws, fangs, a grin in the dark. I hugged myself tighter, the cold biting deeper now, and took a shaky step back.

I started walking again, slower now, my sneakers dragging. The ache in my chest didn't fade—it grew, a bruise I couldn't touch. Logan hadn't chased me, hadn't fought harder to explain, and that silence said everything. I'd been a fool, a freshman caught in a senior's game, and the worst part? I'd wanted it—wanted him—until it left me hollow.

The growl came again, closer, and I froze, breath fogging in the dawn air. My eyes locked on a shadow shifting between the trees—tall, hulking, with a glint of yellow. I blinked, and it was gone, but my pulse didn't slow. Dream or not, something was out there, and I wasn't waiting to find out what. I broke into a run again, tears blurring my vision, the dorms my only anchor in the mess I'd made.