by Serena Robar
I grabbed my trig book and notebook before shutting the locker door to go to class. I passed Raine by her locker and pretended I didn’t see her. Her eyes practically bore holes in my back. If looks could kill, I would have been a goner. But then, if that were true, I would have died a thousand times by now. It may seem cool to wax poetic about eternal sleeping and the undead but it took real courage to embrace life and actively seek out success. What was life if one didn’t live it fully? Seemed like a big waste to me.
I sat down in trig next to my best friends Marci and Rachel. Both were cheerleaders and both took AP classes too. Marci was a brunette with soft curls and Rachel wore her auburn hair short and chic. We made a pretty impressive sight when we were shopping at the mall or cheering. In fact, no matter where we went, we attracted a lot of attention.
“Where were you last night?” Marci asked me as I sat down. “I didn’t get your homework e-mail until really late. Look at these dark circles.” She gestured to her sparkling brown eyes and flawless skin. She looked fine to me, so I shrugged.
“I did the homework last night. It was just a little tougher than I planned.” It took me an extra hour to do, which really messed with my study schedule.
“Fine, at least I got it,” she grumbled and I had to stamp down a little annoyance. I was flattered at first when Marci asked me to tutor her, but when we got together we would end up going shopping or rearranging each other’s closets. It was easier just to let her review my homework so she could see the work on any problems she didn’t understand. But now I think she was blatantly copying all my homework and not even trying to do it on her own.
Rachel was asking my opinion on her new eye shadow when Aidan walked into class. Everything else sort of melted away and all I could see were his broad shoulders and highlighted hair. His eyes were so blue, where mine were closer to gray. We would make such a perfect Homecoming King and Queen.
I turned away from Rachel to smile at him as he walked by.
He nodded to me with a half smile. “’Sup?”
He passed by and slid into his seat at the back of the class.
My classes went by in a blur, and I finally came across Aidan at the end of lunch. I was sure my smile was brilliant and food-free since I wasn’t eating much and I always brushed my teeth after lunch, no matter how little I ate. It kept my breath fresh and my smile sparkling.
When you live with an orthodontist, the first thing you learn to do is keep your smile in great shape. My father tended to stare at my teeth when I was talking. I learned when I was twelve and first started wearing braces that Dad’s intense focus when I talked had nothing to do with what I was saying and everything to do with analyzing how quickly my teeth were being corrected.
If I had to quote advice from my father to take into the “real” world it would have to be, “Don’t forget to floss.” Yeah, flossing is big with my dad.
“Hey, Aidan.” I smiled as I leaned against my locker.
“Hey.” He nodded toward me and I almost sighed when he raked his hand through his blond hair to keep it out of his clear blue eyes. We’d hooked up at several parties and now it was time to make our “relationship” more official. At least, that was my plan.
“Big game tonight. You guys ready for it?”
Okay, so I sounded kind of dorky. I wasn’t used to small talk. I’m a person who likes to get to the point right away but high school is not like that. There are rules.
“Yeah! Those Bulldogs are goin’ home with their tails between their legs. We’re gonna kick ass!” His fellow players, who usually surrounded him, whooped and hollered while chest-slamming each other in excitement. A chorus of “Go Eagles” echoed down the hall.
“Go Eagles!” I reciprocated to the mob and turned my attention back to Aidan.
“So, what’s the 411 on after-game festivities?” I tried to sound nonchalant. A guy didn’t like to be chased. He needed to pursue me, but I could nudge him in the right direction.
“Depends on if we win or lose. How about we hook up after the game and go from there?”
I nodded thoughtfully, but inside my stomach was doing flip-flops. “It could work. Let’s play it by ear.”
“That’s cool,” he responded. In teen talk, we had just made our first unofficial date. Things were progressing right on schedule.
We won the game and spirits were high. Afterward, I waited outside for Aidan to make his appearance. Other players kept streaming out of the locker room. I finally lost my patience and told Brad McGraw, our star receiver, to let Aidan know I was waiting for him. Brad looked confused when he said, “Aidan’s not in there, Colby. He left a half hour ago with Allison.”
I tried not to scream “What?!” in poor Brad’s face. Instead I nodded weakly as Brad shrugged and left me alone.
I don’t know how long I stood outside with my mouth hanging open like a complete fool, but I imagine it was a while. When I finally pulled myself together I noticed I was the only one left from my cheer squad. Marci and Rachel were nowhere to be seen. They must have headed off when I assured them that Aidan was giving me a ride home. Now what was I going to do?
Mom and Dad were already home, having left at the beginning of the fourth quarter since our team was so far ahead. I assured them I was getting a ride with Aidan as well. I wondered who I hadn’t told I was riding back with Aidan. My humiliation on Monday would be huge if I didn’t do some damage control this weekend. Maybe I could save face at DeLynn’s party tomorrow?
I should have been clearer when Aidan and I had talked earlier today. He probably took my “let’s play it by ear” to mean “not interested,” and before I knew it, Allison had usurped my position and wheedled her way into Aidan’s evening plans and his car. Now I would have to walk home.
I tightened my backpack over the bulk of my letterman jacket and headed in the direction of my house. I would use the trail behind the school that Piper and I had used this morning. It meant walking alone in the evening without any lampposts, but the football stadium lights were still on and I was hoping they would stay that way for the next fifteen minutes. It was only a quarter of a mile through the woods so I should be fine.
I was grateful that it wasn’t too cool that evening. However, the dew was already playing havoc with my cheer shoes, not to mention the difficulty I was having walking at a brisk pace with a backpack over a letterman jacket. The smell of wet leaves and sound of the seasonal creek was my only company. I could feel the sweat seep into the acrylic fibers of my cheer sweater. It would definitely need a trip to the ol’ dry cleaner before our next game. I didn’t even want to think about the BO issue.
It was these thoughts—sweaty sweaters and stinky armpits—that kept me distracted enough not to hear the sound of footsteps in the leaves. When I realized someone else was on the path, they were literally right behind me. Big dope that I am, I was busier thinking about my clothes than my surroundings.
I picked up the pace and adjusted my backpack, nonchalantly peeking over my shoulder to catch a glance behind me. I was surprised to see absolutely no one. The stadium lights still glowed so the path was fairly well lit. I breathed a sigh of relief. Guess it was a rabbit or something. I decided to take off my jacket and tie it around my waist for the rest of the trip home. It would keep my legs a little warmer. I was just starting to put my pack back on when the stadium lights went out, leaving me in total darkness.
“Crap,” I muttered, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the evening. There was still a moon out, so I could see down the trail, but without the glowing overhead lights, I was feeling a lot more vulnerable.
“Colby.” I thought I heard my name whispered when a slight breeze stirred up the leaves.
“Piper?” I whispered tentatively.
Silence. I waited another moment. I must have imagined it and took another couple of steps.
“Don’t leave.” The soft voice rasped again.
I spun around and nobody was there.
At this point,
in all major horror movies, the stupid, solitary cheerleader (that part to be played by moi) would run away from the voice and trip over some lame obstacle so the killer/monster could attack her easily. Not being a fan of the genre, I stood my ground and said, “Okay, enough screwing around. Come out.”
It wasn’t bravery or bravado that compelled me to confront this unseen tormentor. It was really the immortality of youth. I didn’t believe for one minute that the Eastside Attacker happened to be on the same trail in the backwoods as I was on a Friday evening. The odds were extremely unlikely. Also, those types of things didn’t happen to me. I was the one who won first place in debate and trophies for cheer squad. I was not attacked by some loser in the dead of night. That happened to other people. Not to me.
So imagine my surprise when a familiar-looking guy stepped out of the darkness to stand in front of me. I should have been afraid. I should have screamed and run and did all that stuff, but oddly enough, I wasn’t scared. After all, this was just a kid, hardly older than I was, nondescript with soft brown hair and eyes, wearing jeans and a sweater. It was like walking down the mall and running into every guy I ever met rolled into one. I was sure I had seen him at the football game.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
He looked mildly surprised and shook his head no.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him, still irritated.
“Following you,” he said simply, still keeping his distance.
“Why?” I demanded, now starting to feel a prick of unease.
“Because you’re walking alone in the dark and it’s not safe,” he replied.
I let out a whoosh of air, surprised I was holding my breath. I couldn’t think of his name, but he did have a face that I was certain I knew. Maybe he went to my school. A lot of people knew who I was because of cheer squad so it wasn’t unusual that I wouldn’t know his name.
“Oh, that’s nice of you but I’m okay really,” I assured him as I walked past him.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said softly, matching my pace.
Great, I have a new admirer.
“Really? That’s nice,” I said, mentally trying to figure out how close I was to the main street.
“No, not nice stuff at all.”
And this was the point I started to get the creepy chills up my back and neck.
Two
I laughed nervously. “Then you must be talking to the wrong people because I’m really very nice.”
“Show me,” he insisted and suddenly I found myself face-to-face with him.
People react differently when cornered. Some freeze, others panic and some keep their cool. I fall under a different category. I get mad.
“Look, I’ll show how nice I am by not kneeing you in the groin. Get out of my way!”
He looked me deep in the eyes and reached forward to sweep some hair away from my face. I stood frozen in place. I just couldn’t get my feet to cooperate with my mind and run.
“You’re very pretty,” he whispered, moving closer to me until I could see how large his pupils were in the dim light.
“And you’re very creepy,” I replied, glad my voice still worked even if my body wasn’t cooperating.
He stared at me intently and my body seemed to go numb. He leaned forward to kiss me and I surprised us both by saying, very firmly, “No.”
He was startled. I could tell by the way he stopped and looked at me again.
“No,” I said again, this time with more strength, and the feeling returned to my body.
“No!” I practically shouted and the cloudy spell that held my legs immobile seemed to give way. I pulled my knee up with as much force as I could muster and followed through with my threat. He was caught by surprise and grabbed at me as he buckled over. Well, I did warn him.
I struggled to pull away, but his hands were firmly gripping my sweater. He wrenched harder and I heard my sweater rip as I fell to my knees. I was free, for the moment. I tried to crawl away, but he yanked the backpack that was still draped across my arm and pulled me toward him.
He grabbed my shoulders and threw me back so I was faceup. I don’t remember feeling fear, just anger. My sweater was ruined, I was rolling around on the dirty trail and I looked like a stupid turtle lying on its back, trying to turn over. Certainly not me at my best.
He grabbed my face and looked at me again. I rammed my head forward and hit him in the nose. I have seen this move in several action movies and can honestly say it hurts like hell. I didn’t break his nose but I did startle him enough for his grip to weaken, allowing me to roll to my side and get to my knees. My stupid backpack was tangled around my arm, and as I struggled to get free I looked his way. He was also on his knees, holding his nose. I thought he might be bleeding.
He grabbed at my leg, and I tried to kick him away. He was very strong. I scratched at the dirt as he pulled me toward him.
He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back so I could see the trail clearly from my position on the ground. It was empty. He flipped me on my back again, this time fairly easily. I felt a sharp twinge in my neck where he was pulling my hair and my whole body went ramrod straight. My eyes were open, my mouth was open and I was stiff as a board.
I didn’t feel anything. I couldn’t move. I expected this would be the point where he would kill me, rape me, beat me—something. We seemed to be in that position for an eternity when he shifted.
He put his arm to my mouth and forced it open wider. I felt a warm liquid enter my mouth and I gagged. He was poisoning or drugging me! My strength returned and I screamed, “No!” a final time, pushing him with all my might, punching him in the nose again. We both struggled to our feet. I was ready to run but he grabbed me by the throat and held me up. For someone who looked so average, he was amazingly strong.
My feet were dangling in the air and I was clutching at his hands. He was having a tough time keeping a good grip on me because I struggled so. He finally lost his temper. I went sailing through the air like a rag doll. I remember hitting a tree, hearing a sickening crunch and rolling down the ravine. Then I couldn’t remember anything.
I must have been dreaming about sleeping in my warm bed, snuggled deep into the down comforter, because the realization that I was actually facedown, partially submerged in a creek was somewhat of a shock, to say the least. The ravine was neither warm nor snuggly.
I looked up at the sky, noting it was dark, and wondered how long I had been out. Five minutes, an hour? It was tough to tell. Rarely did I wear a watch and my cell phone was in my backpack, which I had lost in the struggle. I held out little hope that the attacker had kindly left me the bag or my warm letterman jacket. It was time to drag myself out of the little stream and look around. It took awhile as I was pretty far down the hillside, practically entombed under a large bush.
Wiping my brow from the effort of crawling upward, I realized I was covered in mud and my cheek stung. I rubbed it and winced. Sure enough, it was scraped, as were my knees and my shoulder. I was achy but surprisingly spry considering some fruitcake had just thrown me down a hill.
Looking around in case my attacker decided to reappear, I slowly made my way up the side of the ravine. I’m sure I looked ridiculous crawling two paces, then freezing to listen if anyone was around, but hey, I didn’t need another run-in with the Eastside Attacker. All I wanted to do was get home. Home was safe.
When I made it to the top, I took a cursory look around for my jacket and bag without any luck. Like I thought, good as gone. I hurried home and was surprised how quickly I managed it. Very little traffic out confirmed my fear that it was much later than I had originally thought. If it was past my curfew, I would be grounded for sure. My parents were pretty strict about that and I had no intention of telling them I’d been attacked. I didn’t feel like adding an hour of “I told you so’s” and a trip to the police department to my already ruined evening.
Considering the attack, I was thrilled to arrive home w
ithout anyone following me. I was sure he was ready to strike again and finish the job. I couldn’t relax until I was safely inside.
Then I would have to make up a whopper of a tale why I was late getting home. How was I going to explain the way I looked? I just wanted to forget the whole thing. Take a nice hot bath and let the steamy water cleanse the experience away.
I walked through the back door, into the kitchen where my mother appeared to be preparing dinner. This would be odd if my mom wasn’t famous for cooking when she worried. Guess I was later than I thought.
I walked up behind her and said, “Hey.”
I startled her, causing the dicing knife in her hand to slip and slash her palm, deeply.
“God, Mom, I’m sorry. Let me help.”
She stood frozen, looking at the cut then staring at me with an incomprehensible expression on her face. I imagined it was the look I must wear whenever Aidan talked to me. One of shock, relief and denial, all in one. Not the most attractive look. I would have to work on that one.
I grabbed my mom’s wrist to move her toward the sink when the scent of her flowing blood filled my nostrils. My throat constricted in thirst, I felt a flash of pain in my jaw and before I knew what I was doing, I put my mouth to her cut to stop the bleeding.
At least I thought I was going to stop the bleeding. Instead, I kind of sucked the blood. I was so thirsty and it felt like the most refreshing water after running a long race in the hot sun. The cut was deep, so I didn’t have to suck hard, just open my throat and let the blood pour in. In a very short time I licked the cut and it immediately stopped. I pulled away to look at it and was surprised to see the cut was practically healed. It was as though a week had passed since she hurt herself.