The Hidden

by Jessica Verday

  “Hey,” he said. “Your arm is better.”

  I looked down at it, and then flexed it once. “Yup. The sling came off last week.”

  “So now you’re all ready for basketball, right?”

  “Maybe if I grow another six inches.” I shook my head at him. “I think basketball is out. But bowling? That I can do. And it doesn’t require any talent.”

  He scoffed. “No talent? I’ll have you know that I’m a talented guy when it comes to shoving heavy balls down wooden lanes.”

  I stared at him, then started laughing.

  Ben scratched his head and cocked it to one side. “Wait a minute. That didn’t come out right.”

  “You’re crazy,” I said, grinning at him.

  He grinned back. “Yeah, what else is new?”

  “What did you think about that whole lockdown thing this morning?” I asked. “That was new. Talk about overreacting.”

  He held up his hands. “Anything that gets me out of classes for half the day, I do not question.”

  “Can’t say I disagree with that. I skipped English today too because of the new girl that was assigned to Kristen’s locker.”

  “New girl?” He looked intrigued.

  “Down, boy.”

  Then he cast a glance at her locker and moved closer to it. “I guess they had to give it to somebody new sometime. But I thought …” He trailed off and looked sad.

  I put out a hand and reached for his arm. “I know what you mean. I thought maybe it would stay empty this year too.”

  “Now she’s really gone, you know?” His face darkened. “That’s stupid to say, but it’s true.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not stupid. This was like one last piece of her, and now it’s gone.” We both looked at the locker, and a lump started to form in the back of my throat.

  Ben cleared his throat, and I saw that his eyes were watery. He looked embarrassed that I’d noticed, and he stepped away from me, cracking his knuckles as he went. I guess that was the manly thing to do to cover up embarrassment or something.

  “I need to get to work,” he said. “See you on Monday?”

  “Yeah.” I shifted my book bag again. “See you then.”

  Ben turned and started walking backward down the hall. “We need to hang out again soon,” he called. “Maybe get something to eat?”

  Always thinking about food. “You know where to find me,” I said.

  He raised one hand in a salute, and then disappeared around the corner. Smiling to myself, I headed to the main door and pushed my way out into the late afternoon sunshine. Cyn was standing on the curb outside, looking at something, with one hand shading her eyes from the sun. She let out a low whistle when I came near.

  I followed her gaze across the street just in time to see a black Mustang turn slowly around the corner. A flash of white-blond hair glowed, and I could have sworn I saw a silver Rolex watch on the wrist hanging out the window.

  Panic chased a ribbon down my spine, and I stood ramrod straight.

  Vincent.

  “Such a hot car,” Cyn mused. “God, what I wouldn’t give to take a ride in that.”

  “Looks dangerous,” I said, stepping away from her. “I’d stay away from him—it,” I corrected myself, “if I were you.”

  She didn’t say anything, and I moved away from the curb. Angling myself firmly in the opposite direction, I started toward the cemetery.

  “It was just a stupid car,” I said to myself out loud as I kept walking. “You can’t be positive that it was him. There’s no reason to worry everybody. Let it go. Just drop it.”

  Nodding my head in self-affirmation, I tried not to think about Vincent anymore.

  Or the fact that I wasn’t going to tell Caspian he might be hanging around.

  Chapter Seven

  UNCERTAIN

  It is said by some to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannon-ball …

  —“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

  When I got to Caspian’s mausoleum, he was inside reading a book by candlelight. I was so happy to see him that I couldn’t stop a huge smile from taking over my face. It would be even better when I could finally touch him.

  “Got your note,” I said.

  He put the book down onto the floor. “Hey, beautiful. How was school?”

  I moved toward the wrought iron bench that sat against the wall nearest me. Shrugging off my book bag along the way, I replied, “It was fine.”

  He came and sat next to me.

  “They put us all on lockdown for half the day because a car backfired outside and someone thought it was shots being fired. But other than that, nothing exciting.”

  I leaned forward and let my head hang down, hair cascading around my hands. Scrunching up my fingers, I gently massaged my scalp. “They reassigned Kristen’s locker to a new girl,” I said quietly. “Cyn.”

  “How was she?” he asked.

  “She was nice, I guess. But she thought Kristen was still alive because I mentioned it being her locker.”

  “Awkward.”

  “Yeah.”

  Caspian got up for a minute, and when he returned, there was something behind his back. “Speaking of …”

  He held out a drawing to me.

  It was Kristen. A drawing of Kristen. In her favorite red corset shirt and hippie-style jeans.

  “How did you …?” I said.

  “I saw you guys in the cemetery last year. This is what she wore, right?”

  I nodded and took the drawing from him, stroking the outline of her face. Cheekbones, jawline, eyes … Everything was right. Even in her black-and-white world, he had captured Kristen’s vivacity. It was there, in the slight tilt of her chin, the excited look in her eyes, the way she stood. Happy and ready to experience anything.

  “It’s beautiful, Caspian,” I said. “Absolutely beautiful. It’s her. She’s here. Now she’s always here.”

  And then I burst into tears. Huge, racking sobs that rolled and shuddered through my body.

  “Hey,” Caspian said. “Hey, Astrid. It’s okay. Don’t …”

  He moved closer, but he couldn’t hold me. Couldn’t put his arms around me, or move my hair back away from my face. Instead he just did the best thing he could. He let me cry.

  “I can’t believe she’s really gone,” I said through my tears. “It was my first day … alone … and her locker …” I cried harder. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t be me without her. I don’t know who I am … or what I am. I’m empty. Just a shell.”

  Caspian leaned in close to my ear. His voice was low and soft. I had to slow my breathing to catch what he was saying. “You’re not empty. You’re strong and smart and talented, Abbey. Kristen will always be with you, but she’s not who you are. You’re Abbey. Just Abbey. Without Kristen, yes, but that’s okay. That’s what makes you unique.”

  I gripped the drawing and looked up at him. “Kiss me,” I said suddenly. Desperately. “Please. Please, somehow … just find a way to kiss me.”

  Sorrow filled his eyes. And heartbreak echoed in his voice. “I’m sorry, love. I can’t.”

  Sighing, I leaned back against the bench. Defeat made me weary. Every bone in my body was tired. This was so hard. … “I know,” I said softly.

  We sat in silence for a while, in that close space with death surrounding us, until he said, “Tell me your best memory of her.”

  But I couldn’t choose just one. So I talked until I couldn’t remember any more.

  The next day was better. And worse. Caspian took me to a movie to try to cheer me up. Of course there wasn’t any popcorn sharing or make-out sessions during the boring parts, but for two hours I got to pretend to be almost normal.

  It was all just a dream, though. A fantasy. Gone as soon as the credits rolled and the lights came on.

  “I bet they don’t even realize how lucky they are,” I said under my breath, glancing back as we walked out of the theater and passed a par
ticularly obnoxious girl who was swallowing her boyfriend’s tongue. “They have no idea how much they take for granted.”

  We walked past another couple who looked like they were two seconds away from public nudity. “Get a room,” I growled.

  The girl looked up at me and glared, which just made me madder. “Jealous?” she sneered.

  Ignoring her, I kept walking. But I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

  “It’s not fair,” I said angrily to Caspian, not even realizing that my tone was growing louder. “They have everything. Right in front of them. But do they appreciate it? No. They just keep acting like they have the right to do whatever they want, while some of us don’t even have the chance to—”

  Someone bumped into me.

  “Sorry,” a voice said. A voice that I recognized.

  I turned around. “Cyn?”

  “Hey, Abbey.”

  She had a funny look on her face. Like she’d just witnessed something horrible and didn’t know what to do about it. “Are you …,” she started. And then that funny look came back.

  “Am I what?”

  Caspian moved next to me.

  “Were you talking to someone?” She looked around, clearly trying to find the person that I’d come with, and for just a moment her eyes rested where Caspian was standing, before returning to mine.

  “No. I wasn’t talking to anyone. Maybe it was someone else?” I lied.

  “Are you here alone?”

  “Yeah.” Lie number two. “You?”

  “Same.”

  An awkward silence fell between us, and I didn’t want to think too much about what level of crazy she might be grouping me into. I started to shift my position, to change my stance so that it was clear I was leaving.

  She moved too. “My movie’s gonna start. See you later.”

  I nodded, and we parted ways. When we were clear of the theater, Caspian asked, “Was that the girl from school who took Kristen’s locker?”

  “Yup. Just another person who probably thinks I’m crazy now. Wonderful.”

  He gave me a supportive smile. “She doesn’t think that. And you’re not crazy.”

  I smiled back at him, but I couldn’t agree. Because deep down I still wasn’t entirely sure.

  It was later that night when I realized that the picture of Kristen that Caspian had drawn for me wasn’t lying down on my desk like I’d left it, but instead was standing up on my dresser.

  “Did you do that?” I asked, pointing to the drawing.

  “Do what?”

  “Put the picture there. I left it lying down, by my computer. Not on the dresser.”

  He glanced at it. “I didn’t touch it. Did you move it so you could see it better?”

  “No.” I shook my head vehemently. “I left it lying down. By my monitor. Wait …” I remembered something different. “Maybe I left it on top of the printer.”

  I looked back and forth between the two. Did I move it? Or had someone else? Someone like Vincent …

  “I could have sworn I left it lying down,” I said. “I just can’t remember if it was on the printer or by the monitor. But I know it was lying down. Not standing up. And definitely not standing up on my dresser.”

  I stared at it.

  Am I going crazy? Did I leave the picture where it is now? Maybe Mom moved it …

  Caspian interrupted me midthought. “Do you still want to read chapter five?”

  “Yeah. Go ahead.” I shook my head. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

  He looked doubtful but grabbed Jane Eyre. I settled into bed and pulled the covers up. Lying down, or standing up, who cared where the picture was?

  But I couldn’t stop the sense of foreboding that was creeping over me.

  In the dream, tree limbs held me down, and I thrashed from side to side to get free. Another one reached for my hair and whipped it out of my face, tangling it in wild snarls. I opened my mouth to scream. Felt my vocal chords stretch. And then break.

  I tried harder. Arms straining, chest heaving, I screamed and screamed with everything inside of me. But there was nothing left.

  Suddenly the world tilted. Or rather, I was tilting. Being lifted straight up.

  My arms were still held down at my sides, yet I was floating in midair. My feet barely touched the ground. I was a strange minuet, with tree limbs as my strings.

  “Watch,” the forest whispered, all around me. “Learn.”

  The scene before me cleared, a path appeared. There was a figure dressed in black, flashing in and out of the trees as he ran. His hair changed from white-blond to black, and then back again.

  Even without seeing his face, I knew who it was. Vincent.

  As if my thoughts had called his name, he turned and grinned at me. His face was a horrible mask of features carved from stone. White and dried-out as bits of bleached rock. Only his eyes were alive—dark, burning coals of twin fire sunk deep into their sockets.

  He kept running. Didn’t break his stride, and I struggled to see who or what he was chasing. A gap in the trees revealed another figure, and shock came when I saw the black ball gown and dark, curly hair.

  It was me.

  He was chasing me.

  My throat opened again, trying to force some sound out beyond the constricted airways, but the result was the same as before. Nothing.

  Horror filled my veins, and I watched the other me slip back among the branches. Racing. Desperately racing for her life.

  One last flash of color caught my eye before everything went dark.

  A flame of red. Impossibly deep red hair.

  “Abbey. Abbey, wake up.”

  Caspian called my name, and I opened my eyes, still seeing the color red in front of me. I thrashed my arms. They were trapped at my sides, tangled in the sheets.

  “Easy,” he said. “Easy. Are you okay? You were screaming in your sleep.”

  I freed myself and sat up. Trying desperately to remember where I was, my eyes locked with his, and then it all clicked into place. A dream. Just a dream.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “It was nothing.”

  “It didn’t look like nothing. What happened?”

  “I was being held down in a forest by some trees. And I think they were talking to me?” I shook my head. “I can’t remember. But I saw something red …” I glanced over at the picture of Kristen. My heart started to pound again, and my hands grew shaky.

  I knew without a doubt that Vincent had been here. He had moved it just to mess with my head.

  “What can I do?” Caspian said.

  I didn’t know what he could do. I couldn’t explain what was happening to me.

  “Do you want some water?” he asked. “A blanket?”

  “Just give me a minute.” I tried to breathe deeply. Tried to make everything go back to normal. “Actually, I think I will take that water,” I said.

  Caspian moved to get up.

  “Wait.”

  He stopped.

  “I’ll get it.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

  “I know. But I want to stretch my legs.”

  He nodded, and I got up slowly, limbs quivering like a fragile dandelion stem blowing in the wind. The bathroom felt like it was miles away, and my hand was still shaking as I turned on the light. Gripping the edges of the sink, I stared into the mirror, searching the eyes that looked back at me. There weren’t any answers there, though. Only a cool blue reflection.

  I turned on the water and cupped my hands together, bringing the cold, crisp taste to my lips. My cheeks were deathly pale, but the water I splashed turned them bright pink. When my legs felt more stable, and my hands were calm, I ventured out of the bathroom. Caspian was waiting by the door for me.

  “Maybe you should switch rooms,” he suggested.

  “Why?”

  “Because of what happened here. You never really dealt with it, Abbey. You just moved on.”

  I sat down on the bed. “Isn’t that what people are
supposed to do?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “All I know is that you came back to the place where you were attacked, and now you’re having nightmares. It sounds like a problem with a simple solution to me.”

  “I know I’m sounding like a broken record here, but I’m fine. Really. Me having weird dreams is nothing new. It’s no big deal.”

  He looked at me sternly. “I’m worried about you, Astrid. I only want what’s best.”

  “I know you do. But if I give up my bedroom, then it’s like he’s won. I don’t want to give him that power over me.”

  Caspian nodded. “I get it.”

  I glanced around the room, feeling antsy and restless. It was early, only 5:19 a.m., but I didn’t want to go back to sleep. Spying my oversize sweatpants lying next to the bed, I got up and pulled them on right over the pajama bottoms I was wearing. My sneakers were there too, and I reached for them next.

  “What are you doing?” Caspian asked.

  “Going for a walk. Wanna come?”

  “Of course. Call me crazy, but staying here as my girlfriend roams around outside in the dark while some crazed supernatural being stalks her isn’t my idea of a good time. Where are we going?”

  I walked over to the window and cracked it open. “To the cemetery. I want to see Nikolas.”

  The moon was almost full as we slipped through the side opening of the wrought iron cemetery gates, and it illuminated the grassy roads that covered the vast grounds in front of us. Once we got away from the main path, we headed for the woods that would lead us to Nikolas and Katy’s house.

  It was a bit creepy walking through the dark forest where the foliage started to grow denser, the tree branches thicker. Springy ferns and wild moss pressed in on us from every angle, and I tried not to think about the dream I’d just had about Vincent.

  “I wonder what would have happened if I’d never heard of ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,’” I mused out loud to Caspian, trying to distract myself as we walked toward their house. “The town I grew up in, the school I went to, the places I visited? It’s like all along, this was meant to be. My whole life was building up to this.”

  “To what?”

  “You. Me. Nikolas. Katy. I mean, who could have guessed that the legend would be real and I’d meet the characters from Washington Irving’s story?” I shook my head. “It’s funny. Good funny. Not bad funny.”