No one was there.
Had I just imagined it? Dad's paranoia must have finally got to me. Maybe the run was a bad idea.
I turned back to finish drinking when I felt a tug on the edge of my trackpants. Looking down, I saw the source of my paranoia: a large golden Labrador, gnawing at the bottom of my pants.
"Stop that," I said, pulling my leg from the dog's mouth. It let go willingly, like it was only playing, and barked happily at me.
I sensed no danger from the dog; in fact, I loved dogs more than any other animal. I knelt down and rubbed its head and ears; he felt like a fluffy, smelly pillow.
"Good boy," I said as he rolled onto his back and let me rub his belly.
I had a connection to dogs. It didn't matter if it was the friendliest dog like this one or the most dangerous dog in the neighbourhood with snapping jaws. Dogs just liked me, and I loved them.
I'd wanted a dog since I could remember, but Dad had a strict No Dogs rule. I don't know why he didn't seem to like them. I thought a dog would be a great assist, like an early warning system.
I checked my phone again and realised I needed to get home fast if I wanted to avoid interference with Dad.
"Sorry, boy," I said, rising to my feet. "I've got to go."
I gave him one last pat, letting my hand slip off his head as I broke into a jog toward home. I took little notice of my surroundings and focused on getting in the house before Dad woke up.
Rrrrruff
The golden Labrador leapt from the bushes at the side of the road and took up a steady running pace next to me. I smiled, despite my dire predicament.
"You want to race?" I asked, knowing dogs couldn't talk.
Rrruff
I wasn't expecting that, but clearly it was coincidence.
I picked up the pace and gave it everything I had. The Lab lowered its body to get more speed. He overtook me just as I arrived at my driveway and turned into my house. I wasn't sure how he knew where I lived, but I didn't question it; dogs have a great sense of smell, and he probably just followed mine.
I expected him to be waiting for me when I reached the front steps but, when I arrived, the Lab was nowhere in sight.
Dad stood on the porch, arms folded and a stern look on his face. I knew he wasn't happy, but honestly, I felt a lot better.
Chapter Four
"What were you thinking?" Dad asked as he stormed around the kitchen, making himself breakfast.
I sat quietly at the kitchen table, staring at my cereal bowl as he went on his rampage.
"You do realise the danger, don't you?" he asked.
"Yes, Dad," I replied in a monotone voice.
"I know you say you understand, but you don't act like it."
He stared at me from across the table, holding my gaze. I felt guilty, but Dad always had this way of making me feel bad about things. I avoided his gaze and stood from the table.
"I should get ready for school," I said, and headed up stairs.
"Kyra," he called after me, "We will continue this conversation."
I had no doubt. Dad did love a good lecture.
I had a quick shower and got changed into my clothes for school. There was no uniform so I wore my usual jeans and tank top combo, comfortable and efficient.
I kept thinking about Dad's words and my chest tightened. I was mature for my age, and could make decisions on my own. Dad needed to stop being so overprotective sometimes.
"Kyra, we need to get going," Dad called from downstairs.
I raked my fingers through my wet hair, staring out the window at Dad getting into our faded blue Chevy Ute. Movement at the edge of the tree line caught my eye as I spotted the golden Lab from earlier.
"What a strange dog," I said. I pushed the thought from my mind, grabbed my school bag and headed downstairs.
* * *
The entire drive to school was yet another lecture about disobeying Dad's rules.
"I don't understand how you could be so careless, after all we've been through," he said, as we turned into the road that went past the shops. I watched the shops fly by from the car window and turned to Dad.
"You're speeding." I pointed to the speedometer.
"Huh? What?" He eased his foot. "Sorry. What was I saying?"
I decided to take the mature road instead of the childish one.
"I know you think I don't act cautiously enough," I reminded him, "but we've been doing this for a long time. I know how these things work."
"You're too comfortable. Comfort leads to danger so easily." His tone was almost pleading with me, and I knew he was worried. "Maybe it's time we moved again."
He pulled the car up to the front of the school, but I didn't get out.
"We can't leave yet," I said. "We don't have enough money. Plus, you said you had a promotion coming up. That's more money in less time."
He grumbled, "I know. I'm just worried."
I placed my hand on Dad's and squeezed, catching his gaze.
"If I promise not to go on runs without you, will you relax?"
He sighed and kissed my forehead. "You think I'm going to have a heart attack, don't you?"
I swung my bag over my shoulder as I exited the car. "You're, like, really old, Dad. I don't want to be responsible for sending you to an early grave."
"Have a good day, Kyra," he said with a smile.
I turned to head into school until I remembered the question I wanted to ask. "Hey Dad?" I leaned against the top of the Ute and peered through the window.
"Yeah?"
"I had that dream again. The one in the car …"
"Kyra." He gave a sigh and pinched his brow. "I told you before, it's just a dream."
"A recurring dream," I pointed out, pushing my boundaries, as usual. I knew it was probably a bad idea to bring it up. Really, I didn't know what I was excepting to happen. Dad had been clear it was just a dream before, but somehow I hoped that, if I kept asking, he'd break and tell me he was lying.
"You're going to be late," he said, cutting the conversation short.
There was nothing I could do. Maybe it was just a dream.
I sucked up my curiosity and held it prisoner for now.
"Bye, Dad."
* * *
My school for the last few months was an old Victorian building that used to be a boarding house for girls, but over the years had become co-ed because the town was just too small to have two separate schools.
I headed inside, pushing open the wooden double doors, and walked down the hallway toward my locker. There were barely one-hundred kids at Stones Academy, ranging from primary to secondary. They called Stones an academy to make it sound more prestigious, but really, it wasn't the greatest school. The walls were peeling, there was no heating or air-con and graffiti covered most visible surfaces.
The one thing Stones Academy did having going for it was the library. It was well stocked with classic books, as well as an array of the latest ones. The librarian, Ms Brant, had come from the city and took pride in what she did, even if most of the students didn't care. I spent a lot of my spare time reading books and discussing them with Ms Brant over coffee. She was much more interesting then anyone else at the school.
I found my locker and checked my timetable. Math, first period. I groaned and resisted the urge to slam my head against my locker door.
Instead, I grabbed my books and headed toward the classroom with a slow shuffle. I made note of all the colourful spray-painted walls to bide my time, but it never seemed to last long enough.
I was a senior, in my last year of school, and I couldn't wait until it was over and I could get a job and help earn money. Dad had insisted I finish school to get a good education, but I didn't see the point. It wasn't like I was going to go to university and find a dream job. We were on the run and I was going to get a job wherever I could, in whatever town we happened to be in.
I think Dad had higher hopes for me, but it just wasn't possible. I had resigned myself to the fact t
hat this was my life. I wasn't complaining. I liked my life and I was happy, really happy.
Well, most of the time.
I took my usual seat at the back of the math classroom. Unfortunately, as the school had so few students, there were only twelve seniors in year twelve, and the teachers knew everything about us.
Mrs Barks came in just before the bell and started rambling on about last night's homework. I pretended to be reading my math book, staring at it intently and hoping I would just dissolve into my chair.
"Sally, would you like to share with us the answer you got for question one?"
It took me a moment to remember Sally was my latest alias. I looked up from my book to see everyone staring at me and I fought against the rising redness in my cheeks. I think some of the other students thought I was slow, because of the amount of times I forgot to answer to my fake name.
"Umm …" I said.
Mrs Bark clicked her tongue and crossed her arms over her chest. I could feel her eyes boring into me, which only made me more frustrated.
"Did you even do the homework, Sally?"
She knew I had problems with math, but unfortunately, Mrs Bark was the kind of teacher who preferred to mock and humiliate students rather than help them.
"I tried," I said. "I just didn't get it."
She fake smiled at me with lips covered in too much red lipstick. Some of it had made it onto her teeth.
"Of course you didn't," she said as if I was a stupid child. Mrs Bark was always trying to get a rise out of me for not understanding her lessons. What she didn't seem to realise was I just didn't care if I understood or not. It also helped to know I could slam her head against a table whenever I wanted. In my eyes, I was the one being kind to her.
I spent the rest of the class doodling pictures of the golden Lab in my notebook until the bell rung, when I was first to leave the room.
My next class was one of my favourites because I got to show off my athletic skill. I rushed to the gym and changed into my uniform of shorts and singlet.
The gym was probably the newest part of the school, having been renovated a few years ago. Our teacher, Sergeant Barnes, was an ex-soldier who injured his leg in some war, forcing him to retire. He treated sport classes like army drills, which suited me fine. It was like extra training.
The first ten minutes of class were spent completing a series of warm-ups. Sergeant Barnes made us do push-ups, sits-ups, and laps around the oval. By the end of the warm-up, most students, especially the girls, were ready to quit.
A lot of the boys saw sport as a way to test their strength—and I saw it as a way to prove myself better than them. Not that I didn't like boys. There had been cute ones over the years, but no one really worth my attention. Plus, we moved around all the time, so what was the point? Maybe all my pent up hormones were coming out as competitiveness.
"Well done, Sally," Barnes said when I was first to complete the warm-up. I knew I was his favourite student because I could take whatever he threw at me, and he was my favourite teacher because he challenged me, like Dad did.
I stood on the spot bending down with some stretches while the others finished their warm-ups.
Suddenly, the double doors to the gym swung open with such force they hit the walls they were hinged too. I looked up, still in the middle of stretching, to see a boy walk through the doors. He was taller than me and more muscular, like a football star. By the way he looked and dressed he was more of a punk, though, with a Mohawk exploding from his otherwise bald scalp. I didn't know what he was doing in the gym dressed in jeans and a leather jacket.
"Can I help you?" Barnes asked the boy, his brow furrowed.
"I'm here to play sport," the boy replied, eyes gazing across every female student in the room.
"Are you a student here?" Barnes continued, stepping in front of the boy's gaze and forcing him to look at him.
"Yeah," he replied, hunching his shoulders back.
I could hear the other students getting excited, whispering to one another. It wasn't often that someone challenged Barnes.
"Name," Barnes said, looking over his clipboard roster.
"Pyke Danvers," the boy said, trying to look past Barnes at the girls again.
What a player.
"I see. You're one of the new students. Well, hurry up and get changed."
"I don't have any other clothes," Pyke said, "but I'm happy to go in the nude."
Several boys cringed at the thought, but smiled at Pyke's cockiness. The girls were a mixture of shock and giggles. I wasn't impressed at all.
"What you're wearing will do," Barnes replied through gritted teeth. "You missed the warm-up so you can do laps and push-ups."
"How many?" Pyke asked, taking off his leather jacket.
"Until I tell you to stop," Barnes replied.
That made me smile. Pyke didn't seem too bothered, though, saluting Barnes and running around the gym. Sergeant Barnes watched him for a moment before returning the class to order.
"Alright class, we're going to be playing a game of soccer. I'm going to give you each a number. Ones on the left, twos on the right."
Barnes proceeded to count us off, one by one. Girls swapped spots in the line so they could be on the same team, while I just waited by turn. I was dubbed Two and took my spot next to my teammates.
I loved soccer and I was good at it, too. I played goalie, but looking at the boys on my team I wasn't going to be doing much in this game. Pete, Les and Andre were three of the best athletes at the school. There was no way the ball was coming anywhere near me.
I took my spot between the goalposts and Barnes blew his whistle to start the game.
"Hey."
I turned my head to see Pyke doing push-ups next to the goalposts. His eyes locked on mine.
"Um … hi," I replied.
Pyke pressed up and down, his muscles tensing under his black t-shirt. "What's your name?" he asked, catching my eye and holding my gaze.
"Sally," I replied, not missing a beat.
"I'm Pyke."
"Nice to meet you," I said, "but I should really concentrate on this game."
Pyke didn't reply and continued his push-ups while I turned back to the other players. Andre had scored another goal and the ball hadn't even passed into our half of the field.
"So, how long have you lived here?"
I glanced back at Pyke who had switched to sit-ups. "A few months," I replied. It was strange talking to another person at school, even stranger talking about myself. "You just move here?"
"Yeah. A few days ago with my family. We used to live in the city, but my dad got a job here."
The way Pyke spoke about his family made it sound rehearsed, like he'd had to say the same thing over and over again. I suppose, as the new kid, everyone does ask you the same questions: Where you from? Why'd you come here?
"You live with your parents?" he asked.
I gave him a sideways glance. "Of course."
"Yeah, sure," he said, shaking it off. Pyke had seemed so cocky when he first arrived, but talking to him now, he seemed nervous.
"I live with my dad," I said, trying to make an effort. I knew what it was like to be the new kid, and it wasn't fun. I should be nice. "How are you liking the town?"
Pyke's jaw was set like something was bothering him, but it passed and he eased. "It's small, but the park is cool," he said. Barnes had given him the nod to stop warm-ups and Pyke was now stretching.
"Just you and your dad?" he asked.
The question sounded innocent, but I really didn't like people asking.
"Um … yeah."
What was I doing? Why was he asking so many questions? Most people would have thought he was just being friendly, but Dad's warning echoed in my mind.
Always be cautious.
I shook my head. I was turning into Dad, being paranoid about everyone. The people after us weren't ever young, they were always adults. I had nothing to fear from people my own age except teasing
and gossip.
"This place is not so bad, once you get used to it," I said "There's a great library."
I bit my lip as soon as the words left my mouth.
Smart, Kyra. Talk about how you're a bookworm.
"I'll have to check it out," he replied with a smile.
Barnes's whistle filled the air, signalling the end of the game and class. Apparently we had won, seven to nil. Everyone headed to the showers.
"See you around, Sally," Pyke called as I walked away.
Several girls turned their heads my way, whispering between each other loud enough so that I could hear.
"What is he doing talking to her?"
"Doesn't he know what a weirdo she is?"
"He's new. We'll have to teach him who he should be talking to."
They nodded in agreement and made their over to Pyke, knocking my shoulder as they passed. Whatever had been between me and Pyke was over now. Those girls would make sure of that.
What did I care anyway?
Chapter Five
I went to my locker and packed my bag full of the annoying homework I would struggle through tonight. Students filled the hallways, moving at great speeds to flee the school grounds as quickly as possible.
I understood how they felt. I couldn't wait to just get home and put my feet up. I headed out the school doors and was walking toward the front gates when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out.
"Hey, Dad," I answered.
"Hi, kiddo. I'm going to be home late, so make yourself dinner."
I squished the phone between my ear and shoulder while shifting my school bag up my other arm.
"No worries."
There was a pause on the other end, and I was reminded of our conversation this morning.
"I promise I will keep my eyes out and I will lock all the doors when I get home," I assured him.
I could hear him sigh on the other end and I could tell he wasn't happy about it, but he didn't have a choice, being stuck at work.
"Okay, kiddo. I'll call later to check on you."
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