The Rapture

As we exit the Crimson Veil, the cool night air a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the club, Arlo's phone vibrates insistently in his pocket. He retrieves it with a frown, his eyes scanning the screen. "Twelve missed messages," he murmurs a hint of surprise in his voice. He hands the phone to me. "Do you recognize this number?"

My eyes widen as I see the unfamiliar string of digits. And yet, a flicker of recognition sparks in my memory. Before the era of smartphones, when friendship relied on memorized phone numbers, Mia and I had exchanged countless calls and texts. It was a number etched into my mind, a relic of a simpler time.

"It's Mia," I say, my voice barely a whisper.

Arlo raises an eyebrow. "Your friend?"

I nod, a wave of worry washing over me. I snatch the phone back and scroll through the messages, my heart sinking with each one. Looking at all of the messages, Mia's initial messages of annoyance at being caught in the middle of my lie had quickly turned to concern, then anger, and finally, desperation.

The last message, a voicemail left around 11 PM, was filled with a mix of worry and exasperation. "I hope you're not dead, Evie," Mia's voice crackled through the speaker. "Your parents left. I told them you were out at the clubs with this mystery man. They wanted me to tell you that you, the mystery man, and I are all having dinner on Friday. I think your dad is on to you. If you're still alive, give me a call. We need to get our stories straight. Love you. Please don't be dead."

My gaze snaps towards Arlo, my eyes accusing. "Do you not check your phone?" I ask, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Arlo shrugs, a sheepish grin on his face. "I was a bit preoccupied," he admits. "And the music was loud."

I roll my eyes, unconvinced. As I type Mia's name into the phone's contact list, I issue a stern warning. "If she calls you, give me the phone. No more excuses. We need to plan our stories tomorrow with Mia and be prepared to meet my parents for dinner in two days."

The weight of that upcoming dinner with my parents presses down on me. I can't help but feel a surge of anxiety. How am I supposed to explain my sudden disappearance, my changed appearance, and the strange coldness that now emanates from me?

Arlo's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Evie," he says, his tone reassuring. "We'll figure it out. We'll come up with a story. And I'll be there with you, every step of the way."

His words offer a small comfort, but the knot in my stomach remains. I know this won't be easy. My parents aren't fools. They'll see through any flimsy excuse we concoct. And the thought of facing them, of seeing the disappointment and fear in their eyes, fills me with a dread I can't shake.

I glance at Arlo, his handsome features illuminated by the streetlights. He seems so calm, so collected. Does he truly understand the gravity of this situation? Or is he simply playing another game, manipulating me into trusting him?

I push the doubts aside. I have no choice but to rely on him, at least for now. But I won't let my guard down completely. I'll play along, but I'll also be watching, waiting for any sign of betrayal.

"Let's go home," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Arlo nods, offering me his arm. As we walk towards his car, I can't help but wonder what the future holds. Will I ever be able to return to my old life? Or am I forever bound to this world of shadows and secrets?

For now, all I can do is take one step at a time, navigate this treacherous path with Arlo by my side, and hope that somehow, I'll find a way to reconcile my two worlds.