by Dawn Brazil
Mass Hysteria
FRENZY
Dawn Brazil
COPYRIGHT, 2019 DAWN BRAZIL
Mass Hysteria: Frenzy by Dawn Brazil is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non Commercial-No Derivatives 4.0 International License.
Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).
Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes.
No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.
Inquiries about additional permissions should be directed to: [email protected]
Cover Design by Yosbe Designs
Edited by Sandra Nguyen
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.
ALSO BY DAWN BRAZIL
Finding Me (Book 1 in the Finding Me trilogy) - Nothings better than regaining lost memories…except being alive to make new ones.
Enlighten Me (Book 2 in the Finding Me trilogy). Sometimes carefully constructed lies can become the truth.
Becoming Me (Book 3 in the Finding Me trilogy). Identity is essential to an immortal. Choose wisely, who you become.
Finding Her (companion novella). Their love stretched across five universes. In the sixth and final universe, he lost her. Without her, his entire world could collapse.
About the Book
Mass Hysteria is a trilogy of young adult romantic/science-fiction serial novels that tell a continuous story. The books must be read in order, to fully understand the unfolding story.
Dedication
To my grandparents – James and Gertha Stephens and Henry and Bernice Brazil. You will never be forgotten because you are always in my heart.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Mass Hysteria – Lunacy – Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The school year progresses rapidly. I haven’t completed my volunteer hours for graduation, and it’s January already. For the remainder of the year, three days a week, I meet with my counselor, Mrs. Muncheon, to tutor students of her choosing. Today, because the kid I tutored insisted on asking fifty questions for each problem, I’m running late to my next class.
My feet slap the concrete floor in a hurry. I race down the main corridor and hook a left at the first corner. The visual arts teacher is standing in the middle of the hall and I almost topple her in my haste.
“Sorry,” I yell, but still manage to keep my pace.
I can barely hear her saying, “Young lady, do not run in the hall,” but I’m already out of her sight. I don’t want Brian late for class. He hates to be late for anything, and I know he’ll be at our locker waiting for me.
Stacey has wanted to share lockers with Michael for a while, but didn’t because of me. When Brian and I started going out, we made the switch. Sharing lockers with him has another advantage. No more threatening notes. I slide to a stop right before the lockers, but Brian isn’t here.
Odd. I cut back down the hall and round the corner to our classroom.
Whew. Made it before the bell. I slow to a walk as my classmates occupy the doorway and pack the hall. Our class is waiting for our teacher, Mr. Parker to arrive. It isn’t unusual; Mr. Parker ran late often.
I drum my fingers against my jeans as I scan the crowd for Brian. He went to basketball practice this morning, so I haven’t seen him yet today.
I spot him standing off to the right, talking with a tall, skinny kid with bushy eyebrows and a yellow and blue Warrior ballcap pulled down on his head. My breath quickens as I watch. My body’s reaction to Brian hasn’t changed. I throw my hand up to wave hello as I approach, but he must not see because he doesn’t wave back.
Midway, I notice Brian’s flared nostrils and the way he cuts his eyes to and from the guy he’s talking to. They’re arguing. Brian runs his hands through his hair. I search my memory for the guy’s face he’s talking to, but can’t place him. Though, oddly enough, he seems familiar. We don’t have many new students. When we do, they stand out like the Blob oozing along the hall floor.
“Hey,” I say, as I walk up to the two quarreling guys. Both Brian and the new guy turn and stare at me.
The new guy’s mouth pushes up at the corners like he’s happy to see me. He glances from me to Brian and his lips quirk more. Is he laughing at me? Should it bother me if he is laughing at me?
It doesn’t.
“Hello,” Brian says. His voice has an edge to it I don’t comprehend but automatically recognize as different. He peers at me, but his eyes dart away before I can make contact with him.
“What’s up?” The new kid says. “My name’s Ian. Chief’s told me a lot about you.”
“Who’s Chief?”
“Oh, that’s my name for Brian. You know—because he thinks he’s in charge of everyone.” He smirks. “Nice to meet you.”
My eyes skirt over to Brian, but he’s not looking at me. He’s frowning at the new guy, his jaw clenched tight. Is he upset? And how does this guy know who I am? Did Brian show him a picture of me?
“Nice to meet you, too,” I say. The new guy thrusts his hand at me. I shake it and Brian makes an unrecognizable noise with the back of his throat.
Mr. Parker walks up, cutting the introduction short. We march into the class. Ian ambles to the front so Mr. Parker can get his information and tell him where to sit. I drop into my seat across from Brian, and mouth to him, “Who is that kid?”
“Just a guy,” he says. He shrugs nonchalantly. His attitude seems odd. Fake. What’s Brian hiding?
Mr. Parker motions me to his desk. I pull myself from my seat and shuffle to the front of the room.
“Good morning, Miss Reynaldi-Jones. This is Ian Parker—no relation.” His mouth explodes into a wide grin, exposing all his crooked teeth. No one else smiles. “He is new to the school, and I would like for you to escort him to his classes, assist him in his transition. I’m giving you a hall pass for the remainder of this week and next week. That should be a sufficient amount of time for him to make the transition.” When I don’t respond, he pulls his glasses down to the tip of his pug nose and looks up at me. “Is there a problem with my request, Miss Reynaldi-Jones?”
“No issue with the request.” I inspect the new kid, Ian. His eyebrows are as thick as Brian’s, but not as neat. He’s tall, at least 6’4”, and slim to the point he might consider speaking with a nutritionist. But he’s good-looking, has an innocent appearance, and doesn’t have unnatural body odor like the last kid I was unfortunate enough to get stuck with. Brian knows him, so he can’t be that bad.
I glance across the room and Brian watches me. His expression is difficult to read, though. Too many emotions cross his face at once. On the one hand, he looks
confused, but also sad and angry and maybe lost. He notices me watching him, but his expression doesn’t change.
Why is he acting so strange? And what was with the weird hello before class?
Chapter 2
After class, Ian hops from his seat and strolls to the doorway to wait for me while I pack my things in my bag. When I look back at him, he’s tapping two pencils together at the end of the chalkboard. I amble over so we can wait for Brian.
“What’s this school like?” he inquires, turning and peering down at me. He needs a haircut. His hair in the front hangs over his right eye and it seems out of place. Like it’s wrong for his hair to be unkempt. How strange of me to think this when I don’t know him.
“Like any other school, I guess. You have your typical cliques—the popular jocks, the other non-popular athletes, the musically inclined, the brainiacs, the science geeks—not to be confused with the brainiacs, the science geeks are unique in that they mostly like science-fiction-related theories and can be failing every class. Then there’s everyone else.”
“Wow, you’ve got it all broken down, huh? Where do you fit?”
“I don’t. I’m a square peg and most of the kids at this school are round. I’m just me and I’m not forcing it.”
“Way to say you don’t fit in. Don’t worry, I never have either,” he says.
“Fitting in or not doesn’t bother me much. It’s being called out on it that does.”
“True. You do you and let me be me. Even if you think I’m weird as hell.” I smile over at him. “Hit a chord, huh?” he queries.
“Kind of, but in a good way.” I try for more banter because I could count to a million before Brian makes it over to us. “We have great lunches. I guess we should, as much as our parents pay to send us here…” I trail off, not sure what else to say.
Why is Brian taking so long? Looking over Blake Connelly’s shoulder, Brian walks at a leisurely pace behind him. Is he trying to avoid Ian? Or me?
I glance back over at Ian and he’s chatting up Blake about something. When I turn, Brian is right in front of me.
He tugs me into his arms and smiles down at me with a crooked grin. He plants his face into my neck and kisses the hollow of my throat. My eyes close as heat invades every surface of my skin. He brings his full lips up and traces his tongue around my bottom lip then slowly kisses me. I’m dizzy from the depth of the kiss. If he weren’t holding me up, I’m certain I’d keel over. The kiss leaves me gasping for air. He peels himself back and whispers, “I love you.” I swallow a huge gulp of desire and straighten my blouse.
“I’ll see you in class,” Brian states, looking intently at me. Is he trying to send me a message? He didn’t say good-bye to Ian, either.
“Um, okay,” I say. I fumble with the straps on my bag, but it slips from my shoulder. I snatch it from the floor and it slides through my fingers again.
Brian has me frazzled; I inhale deeply to compose myself. “Let’s head out,” I say to Ian without peering at him.
I unfold the copy of his schedule Mr. Parker gave me. “You have Trig next.”
Ian doesn’t respond, so I glance over at him. His brows are scrunched together and his mouth is puckered in a pout. Is he upset? Brian didn’t say goodbye to him—that was rude. Another thing I’ll have to mention when we talk later.
“I guess you and Brian are serious?” Ian says. It sounds like a question, but I’m not sure.
“Yeah,” I respond. Not certain how else to answer. I let my thoughts drift back to Brian’s behavior.
“Oh,” he says. The lilt of his voice is awkward. Or maybe it isn’t awkward. I don’t know him so I can’t know if his response is normal behavior for him or not. Plus, I’m not the best gauge of other people’s emotions. But I definitely don’t want to discuss my relationship with Brian with him.
I use Stacey’s distraction technique right now. She told me that more than anything, people want to talk about themselves. So, if you’re in an uncomfortable situation and want to get the heat off of you, ask the person you’re conversing with a question about themselves. One of three things will happen: they’ll start to talk about themselves and forget about you, they’ll change the subject altogether, or they’ll stop talking period. “Do you have a girlfriend?” I ask.
“I’m going to call you L. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” I allow myself a tiny gloat.
“What do you do for fun?”
“We go to the movies. There's a skate park down the road. They just remodeled it, so it's even bigger.” He winced when I said ‘skate park.’ I shrug. “You know… if you’re into seeing skaters crack their heads open. And we go bowling… a lot.” He laughs, so I laugh, too. Not quite sure why.
“What about you?” I ask. “What did you do at your last school?”
He raises his right brow as if he doesn’t understand the question. Maybe I should restate it. “I got into all sorts of crap,” he answers. “It was different from this school, though.”
“Where are you from?”
“From all around… my parents are both in the military. I’ve lived everywhere.” His head is bent and he fidgets with a piece of string hanging from his black hoodie.
“One of my friends, who also happens to be new this year, has parents in the military, too. Sounds cool.”
“Believe me, it’s not. You don’t make friends. Or keep the ones you do make.”
“Don't worry. You can count Brian and me as friends.” I glance over to determine if he’s still working the piece of thread on his hoodie. He isn’t; instead, he’s staring at me. His eyes are bright… electric blue, like the sky on a perfect day. If eyes could smile, that’s what I’d call what his eyes do. They smile at me, and I like the feel of it. The sense of knowing I said something to make him happy. I smile back… with teeth and all.
Ian stops walking mid-stride, so I stop, too. “You're really nice,” he says. His voice raises an octave. Is he surprised I’m nice? Who has he been talking with?
“Thanks. I try.” He laughs again. I’m not sure if I should, too. I decide I don’t need to. I don’t feel like I have to. “It’s weird… usually I have a hard time with new people, but for some reason, this time… it’s different.”
“It’s how I roll … I charm the ladies,” he says, and he pops the collar of his shirt.
“There’s something familiar about you,” I say. I shake my head, trying to understand this… déjà vu? I’m not definite on what to call it. I’ve never been this comfortable with a stranger. Somehow, I know him. But how?
“I thought the same thing about you. That’s why when Mr. Parker said I had to have an escort for two weeks, I asked for you.”
Chapter 3
Should it creep me out that he specifically requested me? If it should, it doesn’t. Something about Ian is peaceful, quiet, and soft. “How old are you?” I ask.
“I’m seventeen.” He holds his hands up in a defensive position. “Yeah, I know. I look young… everybody says it.”
“You do look young, but the more we talk, the more your age fits.” I stop in front of Mr. Caruthers’ Trig class. “This is your next class. I’ll be here waiting when it’s over.”
Crystal bounces on the pad of her feet toward us. She stops abruptly, eyes Ian, and then turns in the opposite direction. I thought for sure she had this same class next, but maybe I’m wrong.
I turn to leave, but glance back and watch as he walks into the room. He bumps into Melissa and she gives him a scornful glance; he whispers something to her and she throws her head back laughing.
By the end of the day, Ian and I are like old friends. Even Stacey finds him adorable. He kept her laughing, and me real. We invite him for pizza and a movie, since it’s Friday.
“Ian, there’s one thing we must know before you join our squad,” Stacey says. We’re outside the school standing around in the student parking lot. I didn’t know we were a squad, but my little circle of friends has gotten bigger
this year.
“What’s that, Giggles?” Ian says, with a hint of a grin.
“Giggles?” I ask.
“Yeah, she laughed at all my jokes, all day,” he says.
“Have you ever called someone by their given name?” I ask.
“Not if I can help it. I move around so much, it’s easier to remember them by nicknames. And if I don’t recall someone’s real name, they’re usually cool if I never called them by their given name in the first place.”
“That makes sense. That’s what our other friend Crystal does, too,” Stacey says. “Okay, so… my all-important question is… what’s your favorite genre of movies?” Her features are relaxed, only her brows are raised in that questioning manner she has.
“Definitely action.” He looks around at each of us. Both Stacey and I grunt. “What kind do you like?”
“Horror,” Stacey and I both say in unison.
“I’m down for that. The Chief and I liked horror movies, too. They’re just not my favorite,” Ian says. “Name the time and place, and I’m there. I haven’t been out in a while.”
I don’t get it. Ian’s smart, handsome, funny… all the qualities girls look for in a guy. Right? So why does he come across as this lonely guy?
“Yay. We’ll have a blast,” Stacey says. She turns to me. “I’ll be right back, hon. I forgot Michael’s shirt in my locker. You know him and his red shirts.”
While I give Ian my address so he can meet us, Brian’s stuffing his mouth full of glazed donuts from the donut shop next door. His eyes are fixed to the ground, and he hasn’t glanced up in a while, as if he doesn’t want to be bothered with us. I shake my head and continue with Ian. “We’ll leave about seven to stop for food first,” I say.
He strolls off, twirling his car keys through his fingers. I watch as he steps into a black Toyota Camry parked at the rear of the school on Walker Street.