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Clearing his throat to alert us that we were no longer alone, an usher entered the theater, clanking his trash collector loudly and making his presence known.

I pulled away from Mick, horrified.

“The movie’s been over for almost ten minutes,” the usher snapped. “If you’re staying for the next one, you’ll need to purchase additional tickets.”

I was too humiliated to think about how rude the man was, but I caught Mick smiling, obviously not at all uncomfortable after being caught making out. I, however, was probably ten shades of red and couldn’t even look at the theater employee as I stood up to gather my things. I grabbed my purse and my empty popcorn carton, then made for the door. Keeping my head down and my eyes on the floor, I tried in vain to hide my humiliation.

I didn’t say another word until we were safely inside Mick’s truck.

“Oh my God, um, that was mortifying.”

“Huh. You were embarrassed? I couldn’t tell.”

I shot Mick a glare but couldn’t keep a straight face.

“You’re really cute when you’re embarrassed.”

I looked down. “Oh, please. Do you say that to all the girls?”

“Not all girls are cute when they’re embarrassed, Holland. So,” he said as he turned the key in the ignition, and the old F-250 grunted and growled to life. “What do you want to do next?”

Kiss you again.
“I don’t care. I’m open.”

“Okay, then. How about we head toward my old neighborhood? There’s a killer little hole-in-the-wall pool hall by my old house. Sound good?”

Without my permission, my gaze focused on his lips when he spoke, and I couldn’t recall anything he’d just said. I looked up into his eyes, and swallowed the lump in my throat.

I wanted him to kiss me again.

“Sounds perfect.” I whispered, almost throatily.

“Yeah,” Mick said, as he held my gaze a little longer than necessary. “Perfect.”

My cheeks flushed as I realized he intended the word for me. Perfect. I was far from it. I couldn’t help but turn my head away. If he only knew.

“Why do you do that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Why do you turn away like that? What’s so wrong with someone looking at you?”

“Nothing,” I said, not really having an answer for him.
I’m afraid you’ll see it
didn’t seem like an appropriate response from a sane girl. “Can we just go now? Wait…where are we going again?”

“Look at me, Holland. Seriously, what’s wrong? You just agreed to go to a pool hall with me. I happen to have it on good authority that you despise pool.”

Pool hall?
Huh. I must have really been daydreaming.

“Will you look at me? Please?”

I took a deep breath, and pulled my gaze away from the wet asphalt of the movie theater parking lot. When I brought my attention back to Mick, the expression on his face was so tender, so full of kindness. For the slightest second, I could almost relax; almost see what he saw in me. Almost let him in.

But then his eyebrows scrunched together, and he stopped his hand from reaching up to my face, allowing it to plop into his lap.

“Holland, don’t panic—”

Holland

I bolted out of the car and ran back into the theater before Mick could even finish the sentence.

Oh my God!
What had he seen?
Don’t panic?
I knew nothing good could come from a sentence that started with
don’t panic
.

I flew past the guy asking for tickets, hoping he’d recognize me from earlier and not hassle me about buying a ticket, and not caring either way. I had to get to the bathroom. Had to see a mirror.

My stomach knotted, and my mouth watered as my heart pounded, threatening to explode.

I almost knocked a woman over on my way in, and didn’t think she was fond of my half-ass mumbled apology, but again, I didn’t really care either way. Something was wrong.

I stopped in front of the mirror, hesitating for only a second.
Look up
, I urged myself. Something was happening to me whether I addressed it or not, so I might as well see for myself.

With reluctance—
and fear
—I lifted my head, my eyes settling on my reflection.

My heart beat harder and faster, thumping away in my chest. I gasped, then clamped a hand over my mouth. Tears pooled in my eyes.

The grayness had finally replaced the blue of my irises. Completely. The color reminded me of storm clouds. No, not just the color, but the actual grayness in my eyes seemed to move and shift like roiling clouds during a storm.

Gray lines laced my skin. They weren’t like wrinkles; they were in the skin, or maybe even under it. I watched in horror as the lines—
cracks?
—stretched out from my eyes, spreading all over my face. They coated my skin, reminiscent of the way a crack spreads so quickly over the ground in those crazy earthquake disaster movies.

My heart raced faster, harder, and I suddenly realized how abnormal the beat was. The usual cadence of
buh-bump, buh-bump
was no longer there. Instead, it was a heavy and erratic beat. Pain trickled from the center of my chest, stretching out along my skin. I pulled the baggy cowl-neck of my brown sweater down, only to discover more gray lines winding out from my heart, covering my skin and rising in all directions.

As I watched the lines morph and stretch across my skin, they connected with those originating from my eyes, covering my skin completely until no tan flesh remained. The color reached up into my hair, eliminating the spun-sugar blonde I’d been born with as quickly as fire might consume a dry bush.

I was entirely gray.

As if doused with chalky gray paint, there was no vibrancy to me anymore, besides my clothing. No blonde hair, no bright blue eyes, no sun-kissed skin. I pulled my sweater down over my shoulder. Even the sprinkling of freckles there were just another shade of ash. I opened my mouth. Not even my tongue was pink anymore.

Just gray.

I was the statue I thought I’d seen in the mirror earlier. I was the hallucination.

A knock on the bathroom door startled me out of my terrified examination of myself, and I quickly ran into a stall. The main bathroom door opened a little, just as I slammed and locked the door to the stall I’d hidden in.

“Holland? Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

Mick?
Dammit.

“Nothing! Everything is fine! I’m just not feeling very well.”
I’m fucking gray!

“Oh? Okay. Can I get you something? Some Sprite, maybe?”

“No, just go on home! I’ll be fine!” I tried to sound cheerful, but tears poured from my eyes, making my mouth thick, and my words come out choppy.

“Holland?”

“Yeah?” Still failing miserably at cheery.

“I don’t know what kind of guy you think I am, but I’m not going to just leave you here without a ride.”

I stared down at my hands, knowing I couldn’t possibly let him see me like this. But what could I do? How could I make him leave? What could I say?

How was I getting home?

What would I do when I got there, anyway?

I was screwed.

“Um, yeah, well, I already called my brother to come get me, so it’s cool.”

Lies.

“What? Why…?” His voice was softer than it had been a moment ago. He probably thought I was blowing him off. “Okay, well…um…do you want me to wait until he gets here?”

“No! No, just go ahead home, okay? I’m fine. He said he’s right around the corner, so it won’t be long. Thanks for the ditch day!”

I waited to hear the door close, but nothing happened.

“Mick?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he said on a sigh. “Trying to figure out what’s going on, I guess. I’m leaving now. I’ll talk to you later, Holland. Call me if you need me.”

I closed my eyes. “Just please go, Mick. I’m really not feeling well.”

“Whatever you say. Call me later, okay?”

I nodded my head, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. I couldn’t muster a response. His voice sounded so deflated. So sad. I knew I shouldn’t have let him into my life. What was my mom thinking? What was
I
thinking?

The main bathroom door swooshed closed, and I exhaled the breath I’d held for who knows how long. My shoulders sagged, and I leaned my head against the stall door.

Now what?

I’d lied about calling my brother, obviously, since I didn’t even own a freaking cell phone. So Cam wasn’t coming to save me. I’d have to get out of the theater and find a payphone. Did payphones even exist anymore? Oh God…how would I do all this without letting anyone see me?

I shook my head at my situation and closed my eyes, wishing for an answer to come. I rubbed my face with my hands, but the action reminded me that both my hands and my face were gray.

Since I didn’t have a phone, and I had no car, I couldn’t just sit here in the bathroom hoping to get rescued like some damsel in distress. Eventually, I’d have to leave the theater.

I opened the stall door, peeking out into the bathroom to check that I was in fact still alone. I bent down and looked under the long line of stalls. No feet. I pulled my sleeves down to cover my hands and yanked my cowl neck sweater—
wish I would have worn a hoodie!
—up over my head, covering my face as much as I could. I knew I probably looked ridiculous, but I just had to get outside without anyone seeing me.

I made it to the main bathroom door, then pulled it open just a hair and peered into the theater lobby. To the left, a short line of people waited to buy concessions. To the right, the long hallway with closed theater doors. My options weren’t great, but if I headed through one of the theaters, it would most likely be dark, and I could slip through a back exit and end up behind the building. This option was really the only option because I couldn’t chance bumping into so many people and scaring them all half to death.

Because I’m gray!

After that, I’d have to somehow find a phone and call Mom.

Hopefully she’d know what to do, though I had absolutely no idea what the hell I was supposed to tell her.

Hi, Mom! Guess what? You’re never gonna guess!

The particular theater I picked to sneak out of wasn’t dark, but it was empty. I thanked my lucky stars and headed for the exit at the front of the large room. I slipped out the door, holding my breath—I’d always wondered if an alarm would sound if someone opened the exit door in a theater.

Luckily, no sirens announced my exit.

The sky was still gloomy and dark, with wind kicking leaves up off the ground, but no rain currently fell. Good. I didn’t want to be stuck in a thunderstorm without a way to get home. At least some things were working
for
me instead of against. I stayed close to the back of the building, with my eyes focused on my feet, looking up only when I had to. I figured if I could make it to the gas station down the street, there’d have to be an old payphone there. At least, I hoped there was. I couldn’t actually remember the last time I’d even seen a payphone, aside from TV and memes online making jokes about their existence. They were extinct, and the chance of not finding one now made me think of Rod and Leslie. If not for them, I would have never asked my parents to cancel my phone.

Everything brought me back to Rod and Leslie…and their betrayal.

Poisoned.
Holy hell.
I hadn’t thought of it all day. Leslie had been
poisoned
. How does that even happen? Who does something like that? The distraction of hanging out with Mick had been enough to take my mind off of everything, and now…with my skin ashen, and my world falling apart, Leslie’s poisoning was the least of my personal worries. And yet, a small ache in my chest made me realize I
was
worried about Leslie, very much so.

I hated myself for still caring.

As I followed along the back of the building, a gas station in the distance eventually came into view. Once the building ended, there’d be nothing but open sidewalk between me and the gas station. Without anything to hide behind, I’d have to be quick.

Light rain began falling. I turned my head toward the sky, imagining each droplet washing away the grayness of my skin, washing away the creature inside. I knew it wasn’t possible, but the concept was beautiful: a little rain and I’d be clean, rid of the foreign thing inside me. Rid of the fear that gripped my chest. A little rain, and I’d be Holland Briggs again.

Heck, maybe I could even wash away the past six months completely.

Nah. No rain could make the impossible
possible
.

Of course, it should have been impossible to turn completely gray and have an unknown entity living inside me, but…look at me now.

I enjoyed the feel of the moisture on my face for a long minute, thinking about how I’d never be able to do this again. Or at least, not in public. I couldn’t imagine being able to be anything but hidden away now that my body looked so different and something strange was happening to me. The discoloration of my skin wasn’t a flaw I’d be able to hide with makeup.

Tears started streaming down my face again, the realization of all that I was about to lose weighing heavily on my heart. And I didn’t even know why. I didn’t even know what had happened to me. Maybe I should have told someone when it first started. Maybe I should have told my mom when my eyes started to change, or when I began to feel as if I wasn’t alone inside my head. Maybe I should have trusted in my dad when I started to see my skin shift. Maybe I could have told Cam about my reflection changing in my mirror this morning.

Maybe I shouldn’t have assumed they’d think I was crazy and send me back to the doctor I’d been forced to see last Fall.

I should have just asked for help, psychiatrist or no.

“Holland?”

Holy hell! Mick!