by Apryl Baker
“That’s cool.” A grin breaks out across her face. “I might kill my brother if we lived together, though. He and I have epic fights.”
My biggest worry is that I will kill my brother if I flip out, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“So you’re from New York?”
I blink and refocus. It’s a question I knew people would ask, and it’s one Jason and I prepped for.
“Yeah, I went to boarding school up there and stayed for a while after I graduated high school.”
“Freshman?” She digs around in her groceries and pulls out a bag of Starburst.
“No, I’m a sophomore. I took online classes so I wouldn’t fall behind.”
“Me too. Not the online classes part, though. My parents would have killed me if I took a year off.” She makes a face. “It’s a miracle they didn’t chain me to my room when we moved here.”
“You’re new too?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “My mom filled the chief deputy position here. Guilted me into transferring from Auburn. She and Dad wanted me to stay with them, keep the costs of out-of-state tuition down and all that, but I refused. I said I’d relocate only if I could live by myself. The dorms were full, but I found this place.”
The look of disgust on her face mirrors mine from earlier.
“Not the cleanest of places.” I laugh, thinking of the Pepto walls.
“Good God, no,” she agrees, her own laughter mixing with mine. “This place is filthy.”
“I’m scrubbing it down tomorrow. And I’m stopping somewhere to buy paint.”
“Want some help? My parents came over and helped me clean, so I figure I should repay it by helping you.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say no, but then I have to wonder if this is normal. Is it part of getting to know people? Social situations are awkward for me, but I have to start somewhere.
“That would be awesome. Jase and I can use all the help we can get.”
She offers me some of her candy, and I take my favorite color, the red one. It’s been a while since I’ve had a Starburst. Candy was frowned upon at Compton. They didn’t want us all sugared up. My hand accidentally brushes hers when I pull it out of the bag, and a painful shot of electricity burns my fingers where it touched her skin.
“Ouch!” She shakes her hand. “I hate static electricity. It’s always more painful because you’re not expecting it.”
I don’t think it was static electricity. It didn’t feel like that. It felt…weird.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
“No worries.” She laughs. “I think it’s my frizzy hair and your wet hair.”
Maybe she’s right and I’m finding things to stress about that aren’t there.
“I’ll drag Bree over to help clean tomorrow too.” Saidie settles back and pops an orange Starburst in her mouth.
“Bree?”
“My roommate. She was at the housing office when I got my keys to the place. I had an extra bedroom and she needed a place to stay, so I asked if she wanted to share.”
“You’re rooming with stranger?”
“Sure.” Saidie grins. “I’d have been rooming with a stranger in the dorms anyway, so what’s the difference?”
“Well, when you put it that way, none.”
“She’s a little weird, but I can deal.”
“Weird?” I open my journal and start to doodle. Another nervous habit of mine.
“She’s into supernatural stuff. She has all kinds of books on the subject. Loves to watch that show Ghost Adventurers on the Travel Channel and when Supernatural comes on…ohmygosh. You can’t pry her butt off the couch. Not that Dean isn’t a drool-worthy hottie, but I can find better things to do than watch the same reruns over and over.”
I only smile, having no clue what she’s referring to. TV wasn’t something they allowed us to watch more than a half an hour a day, and then it was mostly cartoons or family friendly programming. Give me a SpongeBob episode any day and I’m happy.
“What’s your major?”
“Uh…English with a concentration in creative writing,” I murmur. The girl switches subjects faster than Jason switches channels on the TV.
“I’m still debating.” She sighs and shifts. “Another sore spot with my parents, but I just don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.” She gives me a lopsided grin. “Writing’s pretty cool. I’m a book whore, myself.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, one whole wall in my bedroom is full of bookcases…”
She trails off when the door opens and Jason sticks his head out. “Alex, you okay out here?”
“I’m fine. I was chatting with our neighbor, Saidie.”
He frowns and turns his head. His eyes go a little wide when he sees her. “Oh, hey.”
“Hi.” Saidie grins impishly up at him.
“Saidie is going to come by to help us clean tomorrow,” I tell him, silently laughing at his attempt to look cool. He’s pulled his shoulders back and puffed out his chest.
“Cool.” He runs a hand through his hair, his nervous tick. “I need to get back to my game. I got people waiting. Nice to meet you, Saidie.”
As soon as he closes the door, she bursts out, “Why didn’t you say your brother was such a hottie?”
I scrunch up my nose at the thought. “Because he’s my brother?”
She giggles. “He is H-O-T, hot.”
“If you say so.” My own laughter bubbles up. I can’t think of my brother as a hot guy. He’s just Jase to me.
She stands and grabs her bag. “I need to get going. I promised Bree we’d watch some weird movie she wants me to see.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket. “If you can give me your number, I’ll call and see what time you want us to come over.”
“I don’t have a cell,” I say. Personal cell phones were a no-no at Compton. “Mine got messed up, and Jase said my old provider got crappy service here anyway. I’m picking a new one up tomorrow. We’re going to be out most of the morning. If you can give me yours, I’ll add it when I get mine.”
“Sure thing.” She writes it down in my journal and hands it back to me. “These drawings are pretty awesome.”
I glance down at the page, surprised. I’d drawn a wolf in several different poses. “Just doodles.” It must be the mountains. Wolves roam the mountains, don’t they?
She snorts. “Pretty awesome doodles. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to call me!”
I watch her as she walks to the end of the wall and then climbs the steps. Had I just made a friend? I think I might have.
Maybe I can do this.
Chapter Three
Sunlight floods my room and I groan. The bright rays stab my eyes. I roll over and pull the pillow over my head. My eyes are super sensitive to the sun, especially first thing in the morning. Blackout drapes and blinds are going on the list.
My neighbor is up. I can hear them moving around. Then the singing starts. Bleh. I want to pound on the wall and shout at him. The voice is definitely male. A morning person, I am not, and anyone who is needs to stay away unless they want to lose an eye.
I sit up and rub my bleary eyes. My watch says it’s barely six in the morning. Who gets up at six on a Saturday? People who are crazier than I am, that’s who. Frustrated, I drag myself out of bed and to the bathroom to take care of business. The toilet is sparkly clean. At least Jase has some standards.
The kitchen cupboards yield nothing, and the fridge is barren except for my leftover burger. Not a chance I’m eating that for breakfast. There isn’t even any milk or juice in the fridge. What has the boy been living off of?
After a quick peek at Jason passed out on his bed, I decide to go walking. Maybe I’ll find a place open that serves food. This is the first time I’ve done something on my own since I was twelve, even if it’s just taking a walk. Sure, I got to walk around the grounds at the facility, but never without a watchdog to monitor my movements. Today, there is no one looking over my shoulder, ju
st me, taking a walk.
Changing into the only pair of jeans I own, I grimace when I pull on the gray tank top. It’s wrinkled and smells like the sterile environment of the psychiatric facility, but it’s the only clean shirt I have.
I look through my bag until I find the little black wallet that holds my license and my debit card. There is exactly nine hundred and sixty-two dollars in there. My grandparents opened the account for me when I was little and deposited all my birthday money into it. My grandfather gave me access to the account two years ago. I’ve never even used the debit card before. Jason activated it for me just in case of emergency, but it’s sat in the wallet for over a year.
Time to start acting like a grownup and paying for my own things.
I twist the lock on the doorknob, but since Jason hadn’t given me a key, I can’t do anything about the bolt lock. Who would want to break into one of these apartments, anyway? They have to be worse than the ghetto.
The morning air is warm, but not scorching hot. I’d read that West Virginia is what’s called four seasons country. They truly have a spring, summer, fall, and winter. New York had four seasons as well, but we weren’t really allowed outside to experience it all. I can’t wait for the leaves to start changing colors. Fall can’t get here fast enough for me.
I start walking and frown when I come to the entrance of the apartment complex. Which way? I remember Jason telling me about the university on the drive down yesterday. He said it was only a short distance from where we lived. I’m betting there are a few shops open early in and around the university.
I squint, the sunlight causing my eyes to water for a minute. I should have remembered to bring my sunglasses. I rub my eyes again and then look down. Maybe if I don’t look directly into the sunlight, it’ll help.
I can smell the sap dripping from the trees, the grass, everything. I’m hyper-aware this morning, every sound, every smell distinct and clear. Even my hearing is sharper. It’s like I can hear the bugs scurrying around on the ground. That thought alone stops me in my tracks. That’s a crazy thought.
Part of the reason I wanted out of Compton so bad is I’d begun to hear things at night. At first, it was low, and I could barely discern it, but as the weeks went by, I started to understand what I was hearing. The sound of a beating heart. Not just one, but many. I could hear the heartbeats of every single person around me late at night when all the other sounds had died down. It got to the point I started hearing it during the day. Then, if that wasn’t bad enough, I began to hear the sound of their blood rushing through their veins. I had to get out. I knew it then, and I know it now. If I had stayed there, crazy wouldn’t have been the word for me.
The sound of birds chirping interrupts my dark thoughts. Yesterday, I was sitting, waiting for the morning bed count, and this morning I am out walking around, enjoying a beautiful morning. I’m free. A smile tugs at my lips. Happiness leaks through at the realization that no one can ever force me to stay in a windowless room again.
A giggle bursts out at the thought. Freedom from constantly being watched, freedom from having my every movement tracked, freedom to do what I want, where I want, and how I want. It’s exhilarating and frightening all at once, but mostly it brings me a feeling of sheer joy.
Not knowing which way the university is, I turn to the left and start walking again, a smile plastered across my face. No one is really awake yet. The neighborhood I pass still looks asleep. Windows are dark, no one is out and about, and newspapers lie peacefully on driveways. I can imagine the children playing on the grass, riding their bikes up and down the sidewalks or running through the sprinklers. I can remember doing those things when I was very little, before The Event, as I call it.
A bitter laugh escapes. The Event was the beginning of my troubles. I don’t talk about it with anyone. The therapists tried, but I always said I couldn’t remember the events the day before my mama left us. Truth is, I do remember. It’s what fuels my nightmares.
Nope, not going there, I tell myself. I’m starting over, and that means leaving the past in the past, as Jase said last night. I get a do-over, and I’m not about to screw it up by revisiting the past.
Another fifteen minutes of walking, and I turn the corner to see the town come into view. It’s quaint. It looks like one of those small towns you see in movies on TV. Not at all what I expected when Jason said we were moving to West Virginia. Visions of backwoods illiterate hillbillies had run through my head, not the streets lined with beautiful little shops, vibrant flowers highlighting the storefronts. Or the clean, crisp mountain air and the gorgeous countryside.
I guess you shouldn’t believe everything you read or see in the movies.
There is a bookstore nestled in a little cluster of stores that catches my attention. It’s not one of those bigger outlet stores, but a private one. Mom and Pop shops, I think they’re called. All I’ve been able to read is the approved titles in the facility library or the books required for my English classes. This will be one of my first stops. I love books, and I can’t wait to dig into this place.
Food first, though. I’m starving.
The Coffee Shop comes into view, and I stare. Last night it had been quiet and almost empty, but this morning the place is booming. The parking lot is packed, and people are eating outside on the small cluster of patio tables, reading the morning newspaper or engrossed in their phones. The neighborhood I’d passed belies how busy the town really is this early in the morning.
I hesitate. Maybe there’s another place open that’s less crowded. What if I can’t handle the crowds? I really hadn’t thought anyone would be up and about this early. Nerves snake through me and my stomach twists painfully. Crowded places are something I’m just not used to. What if I choke and run?
“Going to stand there all day?”
Startled, I turn to see a boy standing behind me. Toffee colored hair frames a face given to smiling. He winks, his cobalt blue eyes sparkling with laughter. I’m a bit taken aback, not used to anyone winking at me, and I can’t help but grin back—a reflex response, maybe?
A sort of peace settles over me at his easy smile, and some of the panic I’ve felt all morning washes away in its glow. He feels…familiar to me, like I have known him forever, but that doesn’t make sense. His smile fades as we look at each other. He seems as caught in my gaze as I am in his. Does he have the same strange feeling he knows me too?
The urge to reach out and take his hand grips me. I have this sudden and insane need to touch him. He stares at me, his gaze uncertain, and I swear I can smell wet grass after a fresh rain. His eyes widen, and we both come out of some weird kind of stupor when a car horn blares.
“Uh…sorry,” I mutter, not knowing what else to say.
“I’m Micah Chandler.” He smiles, and a deeper sense of calm washes through me.
“Alex Reed.”
“You’re new around here, aren’t you?” He motions for me to continue walking toward diner, and I fall into step beside him.
“Yeah, we just moved here.”
“Thought so.” He holds open the door to the diner.
“Hey, Micah!” the waitress calls out as we enter. The place is beyond busy. The hum of chatter, laughter, and shouting from the kitchen fills the air. The delicious smell of coffee and breakfast hits me, and my stomach growls. I’m starving.
“Beth Anne,” he greets. “You got a table?”
“Yeah, follow me. Mr. Niles is just leaving.”
We follow her through the maze of bodies, and she stacks the dishes, wipes the table down, and tells us to have a seat while she hurries off to the kitchen.
“Is this place always this busy in the mornings?” I look around, fascinated. People are sitting at the counter, at every table, and even more are standing around either waiting for a table or drinking coffee while they chat with folks.
“Nah, they’re slow this morning. You have to get here early unless you want to wait an hour for breakfast.”
; Wow. This is slow? I’d hate to see what busy is, then.
“So, Alex Reed, where did you move from?”
I blink and turn back around to face Micah. A frown mars my face. How did I end up having breakfast with him? “Upstate New York.”
“A New Yorker,” he says in the most hideous New York accent I’ve ever heard.
“Which you will never be, sounding like that.” I can’t help it. I laugh. He sounds horrible.
“Well, you don’t sound very New Yorkish either.”
“That’s because I grew up in North Carolina and went to a boarding school in New York.”
“That’s pretty cool. Me, I’ve lived here all my life. I thought about going away to college, but with my grandad getting older, I didn’t want to leave him alone.”
“What about your parents?”
“They both died when I was little. Gramps raised me.”
“I’m sorry.”
His eyes become haunted for a moment, and then his ever-cheerful smile is back. “It was a long time ago, but thanks.”
Beth Anne is back, all smiles. “What can I get you two to drink?” She pulls out her pad as she hands us a menu.
“Orange juice is fine,” I murmur, and Micah asks for coffee.
“What’s good here?” I scan the breakfast menu while Beth Anne goes to get our drinks.
“Depends on what you like.” Micah doesn’t bother opening his menu. I’m guessing he eats here a lot. “I’m a steak and eggs man, myself, but the pancakes are good too.”
I settle on the pancake breakfast platter by the time our waitress returns.
“I haven’t seen you before.” Beth Anne gives me a once over while she writes down our orders.
“Alex just moved here.” Micah sips on his over-sugared coffee. The boy had dumped three packs of sugar in it. My teeth hurt just watching him.
“Everyone sure makes a fuss about me not being local.” I take a drink of my orange juice. It tastes like it’s been freshly squeezed.
“We don’t get a lot of out-of-towners.” Micah’s eyes hunt through the restaurant. Is he looking for someone?