“So what’s on your agenda today?” he asked, as per usual.
I ate a quick spoonful of Lucky Charms before I answered him. “I got a text from Chris saying to meet him tonight in town. But other than that, nothing really.”
“Oh ho?” he asked with interest. “What’re you two love birds going to be doing tonight?”
“Nothing more than you and Pa will be doing,” I retorted playfully. His cheeks flushed their childish pink and his eyes averted my gaze, focusing on some random magnet on the refrigerator door.
“Be quiet, you,” he whispered as he went over to the sink to pour his leftover milk down the drain. I followed almost by reflex, dumping my milk and putting my bowl in the dishwasher just seconds after my older brother.
“Yeah, yeah,” I spat back as I grabbed my books from where they lay untouched beside the front door since yesterday when I had gotten home.
“You’re gonna walk again?” The uncertainty in Ricky’s words made his statement into a question, which in turn caused my lips to curl into a smile.
“Yeah,” I answered as I turned in the doorway. “Fresh air and sunlight will only help, right?”
“Right,” he replied, leaning in and touching his lips to my forehead. “Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you, too, bud,” I told him as I closed the door.
The morning air was crisp and delightful as it whipped around me in ripples of happiness. The sun was shining so brightly that I felt drawn toward it, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how wonderful the rays of energy felt as they caressed my face and body.
An old couple who lived down the street was sitting on a blanket in their front yard, watching the sun rise together. The mail man had just driven past, holding his hand out in greeting to me as he passed. I waved back with a smile and started to skip I was so happy.
It took longer than usual for me to get to school, but that was probably because I had taken as many detours as I could to keep myself in the sun longer. Yeah. That was it.
I passed the community park and walked along the edge of the lake there, throwing some seeds at the geese as I sauntered along. A couple little baby ducks wanted some seeds, too, so I grabbed a handful from the edge of the forest and threw an entire handful toward them, to which they flocked and quacked like they had never been fed before.
There were a few squirrels loitering on the dock searching for acorns, and a swan was picking at her feathers from where she rested on the water. She looked so majestic in the sun, her white feathers absorbing the light and projecting it tenfold. As I felt those rays touch my own skin, I felt alive, elegantly beautiful like the swan as I walked along the edge of the lake, trailing my fingers in the water every few feet I took.
Since the park was only about five minutes from the school, I made it into the grounds at a reasonable time, with an unbelievable ten minutes to spare before homeroom started.
I took the long way around, staying out in the sun as long as humanly possible. A lot of the younger students kept staring at me as I roamed around the building, wondering where the crap I could possibly be walking to. I entered near the Honors parking lot, which I happened to have a parking pass for that I never used. The doors there were always opened prior to school hours, so you didn’t have to stand there like a complete idiot and wait for some random nobody to open the doors and let you in.
I walked in and was greeted by my old Chemistry teacher from tenth grade, Mr. Smith. He was an amazing man, a genius to some, and he knew his stuff. Especially about science and math. He made Einstein look like an amateur . . .
He tipped his baseball cap at me and smiled.
“Good morning, Dessa,” he said happily, smiling with his eyes closed.
“Good morning, Mr. Smith,” I said just as enthusiastically. “How’s your wife doing?”
He smiled in appreciation. “She’s doing wonderfully,” he replied. “Her surgery went very well, so she’s recuperating at this point. She’s a strong woman, even in her old age.”
“She isn’t old just yet,” I contradicted kindly. “And neither are you, so stop thinking that,” I added in a rush. His cheeks flushed red and he waved his hand dismissively.
“Go to class,” he said in mock authority.
“Yes, sir,” I retorted in a salute. He laughed as I walked away toward my locker.
I was in such a bubbly mood that I barely noticed Chris standing beside me when I closed my locker door.
“Gah!” I shouted when I saw his blue eyes staring at me. “Jeez . . .”
“Sorry,” he apologized with a smirk. “I didn’t mean to frighten you like that.”
I laughed and shook my head. “No, no . . . Just took me by surprise is all.”
“Okay . . .” he trailed off suspiciously. “Sure . . .” He dragged out that word like he was taunting me, and I threw a playful punch at his shoulder.
“Let’s go to homeroom,” he said as he rubbed his shoulder where I had punched him.
“Okay . . .” I said, copying him. “Sure . . .”
He laughed. “Witty little one, aren’t you?” he retorted as he held open a door for me.
“Yes I am,” I said stupidly, not knowing what else to say. “Thanks,” I murmured as he opened another door at the top of the stairwell.
“Of course,” he replied with a closed-eyed smile. We walked down the Science hallway, which intersected in a “Y” with the Math hallway—where my homeroom was—and the English hallway—where Chris’ was.
I tapped Chris’ shoulder when we reached the “Y.”
“I’ll see you in Calculus,” I said with a smile.
He stopped me with his hand upon my shoulder when I turned away. “You forgot something,” he said, leaning in toward me.
I felt my skin get hot and my eyes fluttered as his face came closer to mine. His lips met mine quickly, massaging my mouth softly.
“Can I go now?” I asked childishly.
“If you really want to,” he replied, kissing my forehead.
“I don’t,” I replied honestly, kissing him again. I heard some guys whistling at us as they walked past, but I ignored them, focusing on the soft glow that was emanating from Chris’ eyes. The bell rang and we both sighed. “Looks like I have to, huh?”
“Afraid so,” he conceded with a small smile. “I’ll see you in Calc.”
“Yep,” I answered.
“Until then,” he said, touching my cheek before he strode off in the other direction.
It was another normal day. At least it was until Econ class. You know . . . the class where I was stuck between Chris and that emo kid who had given me that creepy poem a few days back? Yeah, that one.
I still had that poem, too. It was tucked in the compartment in my wallet where I kept my driver’s license, carefully folded up.
I moved my purse closer to me instinctively with my leg, keeping the poem closer to me than to anyone else. I looked over at the clock to see how much time was left in class when the audio system came on.
“Attention students and staff,” said the generic, annoying voice of our assistant principal, Ms. Veach. “We apologize for the interruption, but we are running an impromptu fire drill. Please report to the football stadium and the fields surrounding the school. We will inform you when it is safe to return inside.”
I raised my eyebrows. Chris looked at me with the same expression.
“What the heck’s going on?” I whispered as we filtered into the hallway filled with screaming idiot freshmen and stupid, moronic juniors who couldn’t walk with one foot in front of the other without succeeding in tripping everyone around them.
Chris took my arm in his and began weaving through the hazy surroundings. The people were moving increasingly slower, the haze locking their joints and trapping their minds in time. It only took us about five minutes to make it out of that horde of crazy high school kids. Once we were out, Chris released them, and we continued to walk outside.
“Ambrose! Calder!”
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I froze involuntarily, my feet rooted to the spot. Chris froze next to me, the muscles in his arms and legs flexing violently.
“Yeah?” we called as we turned to face the principals. They stood there looking like twin dolls of demise, their black hair flowing down their shoulders in a way that made them look like the same person. The vice was shorter, but had sharper features—her jaw was so much more defined, her eyes darker, more sinister—while the principal herself had nicer eyes with less defined bones in her jaw.
They wagged their fingers at us, beckoning for us to come up closer to them. Ms. Veach leaned in close to us and said, “The police wish to interrogate you.”
“What?!” I shouted in insanity.
“Shut up,” Chris commanded sharply, but quietly. His hand clenched itself around my wrist and I felt a strange numbing sensation spread through my nervous system.
“Stop that,” I ordered, but naturally, he ignored me. The calming sensation continued to spread at a feverish rate, and I was beginning to feel a little too calm for the situation.
“What seems to be the problem?” Chris asked for me. The principals looked at us with serious eyes.
“There was a bomb located in the building,” Ms. Veach said. “It was planted near the band room . . .”
I wrenched my hand from Chris’ and rubbed the feeling back into it.
“The band room?” I asked again. “Why in the world would anyone . . .?”
“A bomb?” Chris whispered even quieter. “Why? What reason would anyone have to . . .?”
Both of our questions faded away within a second of each other, and Chris’ eyes found mine. The look of understanding in them made me want to run far, far away and never turn around again.
Both Chris and I went to the band room almost all the time . . . It was too much of a coincidence . . .
I shook my head, trying to calm the torrent of emotions and thoughts that were swirling relentlessly through my mind. A bomb? Here? Exactly who was after me? If it was anything closely related to al Qaeda, I was out.
“The police have asked to speak with each of you separately, if that isn’t too much trouble,” Ms. Veach said as she pulled me back into my horrified reality.
“Fine,” I muttered, gazing at Chris uneasily. He nodded in encouragement, but the look in his eyes suggested otherwise. “Wait,” I called as Chris began to walk away.
“Just meet me later,” he said, and I remembered the text from last night. “If you get out of here early, just meet up with me.”
“Okay,” I said with a nod as I followed Ms. Veach out into the main parking lot. The butterflies in my stomach were driving me absolutely insane as I walked up to the extremely muscular policeman.
If Chris was my only true protection from the enemy that was after me, how could I possibly even begin to feel the least bit safe with a huge police-guy standing across from me?
“Hello,” the big guy said, examining me curiously. He obviously thought I wasn’t the one to plant the bomb, because I was probably white as a ghost and clutching my pants like a maniac. “You’re Dessa Ambrose, correct?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said with a sharp nod.
“Very good,” he commented, opening a folder of papers in his hands. “Do you have any idea who might have planted this bomb?”
I stared at the man and shook my head woodenly.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “If you know anything, please tell us.”
What? Was I supposed to tell him that there was some crazy lady coming after me? But what about the fact that I didn’t know what she looked like, or what her name was, or . . . well, I didn’t know anything except that she was out to get me.
“No,” I said slowly. “I don’t really know anything. All I know is whoever planted this bomb is most likely after me.”
The officer’s eyebrows rose at least three inches higher. “And why is that?”
“Wish I knew,” I whispered quietly.
“What was that?”
“I said, ‘I don’t really know.’” I lied flawlessly, finding myself more and more calm as time went by. “I haven’t done anything, so maybe this person just has some beef with me. I don’t know.”
“Well, we’re here to help,” the guy said matter-of-factly, “So if you find out anything or if you ever need anything, call us up. We’ll take care of it.” He put his hand on my shoulder and smiled.
“Thanks,” I said, silently promising myself not to do that. The last thing I needed was innocent people getting hurt in this. I didn’t even know who I was up against, let alone what she could do. Chris was my protector. That was enough for me.
“We’ll let you go, then,” Ms. Veach said from beside the police officer. I nodded and walked in a direction that I vaguely thought would lead me home.
“You drove, I presume?” Ms. Veach asked casually as I started walking away.
“Uh, no, I walked today, actually,” I said awkwardly, looking back at her. “I’ll be all right. Thanks, though.”
“Of course,” Ms. Veach said with a smile that I assumed was full of concern. I walked away from her and the buff policeman, my eyes relentlessly perusing the parking lot for my protector. I didn’t see him, so I assumed he was still being “interviewed” by the police.
He had said to meet him, so that was what I would do: go home, visit with Ricky for a bit, and then meet him for coffee.
The walk home seemed to be even longer than the walk I had taken this morning, even though I took the short way home. I passed the park again, but didn’t venture to the lake as I had earlier.
When I walked up to the driveway, I saw Ricky’s car and Pa’s car both parked on the concrete. I smiled, knowing what was probably going on inside.
I knocked on the door and got mowed over by my dogs again. After I made it past the puppy patrol, I ventured into the dimly lit living room. Ricky and Pa were sitting on the love seat together, their hands wrapped around each other, and they were watching Dear John.
I smiled and cleared my throat. Pa looked over with a slight jump, but when she realized it was only me, she smiled and patted the recliner. Ricky grinned and winked at me.
“How have you two been?” I asked casually as I plopped onto the recliner with a sigh. Pa smiled again and began massaging Ricky’s hand with her thumb. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, returning her movements with movements of his own; his hand was massaging her shoulder slowly, causing her to close her eyes.
“We’ve been good,” Pa replied. “We just kind of chilled here till you came.”
“Chilled,” I repeated. “Are you sure that’s all you did?” I smirked at Ricky, who shook his head in efforts to hide his own smile.
“Aren’t you hilarious?” Ricky asked sarcastically.
“I like to think so,” I retorted, pinching my own cheeks like a grandma would her grandchild.
“You’re too much, kid,” he said with a scoff.
“Oh, I know,” I replied with a smile.
Pa was laughing this whole time, her emerald eyes shining just like mine when I was with Chris. The looks in Ricky’s and Pa’s eyes formed a surreal blend of the earth and the air, the ground and the sky, the limitless bounds of the universe. It really was something to witness that combination personified into two people I knew and loved so well.
“So what are you doing tonight, again?” Ricky asked as he continued his massage.
“Going with Chris somewhere,” I answered. “He just told me to meet him at the corner where the coffee shop is. So I guess we’ll go wherever we feel like it. Oh, and get this!” I jumped halfway out of my chair. “Apparently there’s a bomb in our high school.”
“A . . . bomb?!” Pa asked in complete surprise. “Why?”
“I have no idea,” I answered honestly. “It was planted near the band room, and the police-people took me and Chris out to the parking lot to question us. I don’t know about you guys, but what criminal or whatever-the-hell-you-wanna-c
all-it plants a bomb in a band room? I mean, really?”
“Maybe they’re after something,” Ricky interjected, putting his fingers to his chin.
“Yeah, but what?” Pa asked curiously. “Why the band room?”
I felt the words pour from my mouth without my consent. “Chris and I are in the band room every day. What if . . . what if this person’s trying to get us?”
“Who in the world could possibly want you dead?” Ricky asked. “You haven’t done anything to anyone.”
“Anyone that I know I harmed, no,” I clarified. “But what if I unintentionally harmed someone? Remember how Chris said we all lived back in the past? What if this person came back, too? What if she wants to hurt me for whatever it is I did to her back in our previous life?”
“Makes sense,” Pa said reasonably.
“Wait,” Ricky demanded. “How do you know it’s a ‘she’?”
“Chris let it slip one day at lunch. He claimed I couldn’t protect myself from her.” I paused for a second, breathing slowly. “I don’t know who she is, but she wants me dead, and I don’t want to die before I turn eighteen.”
“I wouldn’t either,” Pa said quietly. “Well, D, why don’t you just lay low for a while? Go see Chris tonight, but stay home from school for a few days. Wait, so it wasn’t just a bomb threat? Meaning there was an actual . . . bomb?”
“Yeah, exactly,” I said. “There was an actual bomb; I just don’t know exactly where they planted it.”
“Maybe Chris did,” Ricky suddenly replied.
“Come again?” I asked.
“Maybe Chris knew about the bomb.”
“Then why wouldn’t he have said something?” I asked insanely, completely against the idea that Chris might have had something to do with this bomb. Even if it was the part that meant protecting me, the idea of him having any part in this made me very uneasy.
“I have no idea,” Ricky answered honestly. “It was just a suggestion.”
“At least at the moment it is,” Pa said, turning to face me with a look of concern in her eyes. “It’ll be all right. Trust us.”
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