After the guy ran off me and Ben stood there in the woods in silence for a while as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. I eventually gave up and we walked back to my place to find Anna waiting for us. I spent the rest of the day with the two of them just hanging out and trying to forget the events that happened in the forest. 

That night after dinner was finished, the dishes washed and Ben and Anna had gone home me and mum sat in the lounge and talked of all that had happened while I was sick. I apologised for giving her so much trouble and being a burden and she hugged me and told me I could never be a burden, then she clung to me as if she needed me to breathe as she wept. We drifted off to sleep like that with me holding my mother in my arms on the sofa in the lounge.

Ben parked in his usual spot by the gate but didn't get out of the car, instead turning to me with a serious and very un-Ben-like expression on his face.

"What's up man? You've been kinda quiet recently. Anything you wanna talk about?" He asks.

I sigh and run my hand through my hair making it stick up at all angles. "Stuff's just been stressful lately because of the fevers. Nothing seems to be normal anymore." 

"Normals boring," Ben replied.

We sat there for another couple of minutes before getting out of the car and heading to class.

"James. Good to see your feeling better." Said Mr Coleman as I entered the class. "Here are the notes and study material I had collected for you from while you were away."

He handed me a stack of papers and a notebook before motioning for me to take a seat at my usual spot.

After roll call and a couple of boring notices, Mr Coleman told us to sit quietly till the bell rang and left the room which was uncharacteristic of him. Most of the class either got up to talk to their friends or started checking their phones. I decided to have a look at some of the notes Mr Coleman gave me. Everything seemed ok until I got to the notebook. It looked old and kinda like someone's diary or something. I opened the first page and saw in the top right-hand corner, written in curling, neat scrawl the name Elisa Blackwood. The name seemed familiar somehow but I couldn't place it. I had a nagging feeling that I should know this person. Wanting to know more I turned the page but before I could read anymore the bell rang.

I quickly stuffed the notebook and the rest of the papers in my bag and headed off to first period.

My first three classes were mostly uneventful. Just the usual people giving me their good wishes and looking at me with a mixture of pity and wariness, like I was dying of some horrible disease they thought they might catch if they got too close to me. I can't stand those looks. Still, I smile and thank them for their concern. By the time I got to fourth-period math my face hurt and I was in a foul mood.

I walked into the class with my hands in my pockets and my head down hoping no one would notice I was back and ended up walking straight into someone else's back.

"Wow! Sorry man." I say quickly regaining my balance. I look up into his face and any further apology fled my brain.

The guy I just ran into was HUGE! He was tall, almost 7 feet and so broad he couldn't have fit through the door without going sideways. His arms looked like they were thicker than my thighs and his hands were the size of baseball mitts. He had a shaggy beard and shoulder length curly hair pulled back from his face in a tight pony tail. His face was scarred and rugged but it was his eyes that had me raring back in fear and confusion. They were gold and seemed to glow from within, but this wasn't a warm glow, this was a dirty, evil glow that seemed to permeate my soul and steal the breath from my lungs. These were the eyes of a predator, the eyes of someone who has killed and who enjoyed it. I opened my mouth to say something, what exactly I don't know, but between one blink and the next the glow was gone and his eyes appeared a normal golden brown colour.

The man opened his mouth and in a gravelly baritone grunted an apology before studying me with apprehension.

"I've never seen you before. Are you sure you're in the right room?" He rumbled.

"What? Uh . . . No. I mean yes. This is senior Calculus isn't it?" I ask shaking off the shock of what I just saw. It reminded me of the things I see during the fevers. I must have just hallucinated it. Maybe I'm not as well as I thought I was. . .

"Yes. How come I haven't seen you in my class before?" He replies squinting at me with suspicion.

"Sir that's James. He has health problems and has been off school for the past week." Said someone from the back of the class. I turned to see one of Michael's music friends, Cailin Frost staring at me with his hand in the air. He gave me a weak smile before looking at the strange man who must be the new math teacher. He seems more like a linebacker or a lumberjack than a teacher to me. 

"Oh really? Ok then show me proof."

"Proof?" I ask. I don't have any proof.  I've never needed it before. All the teachers know about my sickness. I once passed out in the middle of the gym and started having a fit. After that everyone knew.

"Yes, proof. Well, go on . . . or do you not have any?" He asks, sneering at me, his eyes beginning to glow again with madness.

Something's wrong with him. He doesn't seem right. How is this guy a teacher?

"But sir! James isn't lying. The principal should have told you about his circumstances. You could ask him about it." Says Beca Allenby, she writes the school paper, she knows everything that goes on in the school.

The huge man hesitated, a look of doubt crossing his face before masking his expression and going over to his desk to pick up the school phone and dial the number for the principal's office.

"Hello, this is Mr Huntley. I'm calling to ask about a student. James . . ." he began. He looked over at me then. After a moment of staring, I realised he needed to know my last name.

"Grey," I say calmly.

"James Grey. Yes . . . Yes. . . I see . . . Thank you. No that was all." He said tersely. He then hung up the phone and turned to me.

"It seems your story checks out. You may take a seat at the front of the class." He says waving towards the front row, dismissing me as some sort of delinquent.

The rest of math was spent with Mr Huntley staring daggers at me like he expected me to do something illegal and me trying to avoid doing anything that could have been seen as wrong or incorrect. When the bell went signalling the end of class I packed up my stuff and got out of there like a bat out of hell, still feeling Mr Huntley's gaze on my back all the way till I reached my locker. 

By the end of the day, I was exhausted from constantly looking over my shoulder and expecting to see Mr Huntley there looming over me. I was at my wit's end and wanted nothing more than to just go home and pass out in bed till mum came home for dinner. I met Ben at his car and we got in, ready to drive off when I saw him and my weakness was forgotten.

I sat up straighter in my seat and stared at the figure standing in a full three piece suit next to an incredibly expensive looking Lexas and opening the door for someone to get out.

Travis . . .