Swift

by Heather London

  “You okay?” Aunt Rose questioned.

  “Yeah, just a headache.” That was an understatement. “Sorry if I scared you. I guess I was just dreaming,” I mumbled, still rubbing the back of my head.

  “Dreaming? You were having some kind of horrible nightmare. Did you fall asleep watching a scary movie again?” she asked, shaking her head, trying to hide her smile.

  Fall asleep? This was all so surreal; it seemed like just a few seconds ago that I had gotten in bed and was watching TV. It didn’t even seem possible that I could have fallen asleep and really dreamt all of that.

  “What time is it?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the images I had just seen.

  “It’s 7:30. I just got home from the hospital,” she said as she stood up and began to walk toward the door.

  The last time I looked at my clock, it had been just after midnight. Over seven hours ago? It only felt like it had been a few seconds. No way did it seem like it had been all night.

  “Well, I am off to bed now. If you go back to sleep, please no more nightmares. I would like to live to see my fortieth birthday.” She covered her yawn as she walked out, pulling my door closed behind her.

  I fell back down on my pillow and began to relive the dream-nightmare I had just lived through.

  Later that morning I tried to call Roger. I wanted to apologize about ditching him at the party. But there was no answer. I hoped he was just sleeping and not avoiding my phone calls. My next call was to Rebecca. I wanted to feel her out, too. I was hoping she was not upset with me, either.

  “Hey, Rebecca.”

  “Meredith! Wasn’t the party so great? Where were you all night? I tried to find you.”

  “Oh, I bailed out early. Wasn’t really in the partying mood.” At least she did not sound mad at me. “Hey, did you catch a ride home with Roger?” I decided to get straight to the point, my real reason for calling.

  “No, he was still there when I left. I got a ride from Sarah.”

  “Oh, okay. He must still be sleeping, or maybe he’s packing for Rockport,” I said, biting my lip, thinking maybe I had really pissed him off. All he had wanted was for me to have fun, and I had promised him that I would try. Maybe I should’ve told him I was leaving—that would have been the right thing to do.

  “Speaking of packing, I’m just about done, and I have to see you before I head out. Want to meet up for lunch later?”

  There was a long pause.

  “Um, hello … Meredith, are you there?” Rebecca questioned.

  “Yeah, sounds great,” I replied, sounding distracted. Not even sure what I had just agreed to.

  “Perfect, how ’bout Omega’s Pizza at 1:00?” she asked.

  “Sure, see you there.”

  When I got downstairs, I opened the medicine cabinet and took out some aspirin and a bottle of water from the fridge. The horrible headache I had woken up with was still there, lingering in the back of my head. After popping two aspirin into my mouth, I took a large drink of water. And just as I closed my eyes and tilted my head back to help the aspirin slide down my throat, the images from the nightmare began to come back to me. I have to admit, it was nice to see my sister alive and running around, creepy as it was. So even though I knew it was unhealthy to be enjoying this, I just smiled and watched.

  Then the images flashed to the two men standing in the forest, and my head began to pound so hard that I hunched over and gripped the counter for support. I winced in pain, unable to open my eyes and get rid of the horrible faces. The two men stood there, the evil one smiling the same evil smile, his lips curling upward as they both stared after my younger self where I had just entered the forest.

  What. Was. Happening. To. Me?

  After a few seconds, I forced my eyes open, despite the pain, and the images were gone. I was finally able to stand upright. My head was still pounding, but the pain was not crippling at least. Something was wrong. Way wrong. In the back of my mind, I knew the smart thing to do would be to race upstairs and tell Aunt Rose all about what was happening—the car that had moved in slow motion and stopped just inches from killing me, the way I had felt and acted around Abby and Blake, and most of all, I should tell her about the headache and nightmare. That would be the smart thing—the right thing—to do. But I knew myself well enough to know that I would tell her nothing, not wanting to cause her to worry more than she already did. Maybe Roger would be a good person to tell if he ever decides to talk to me again, I thought. At least he already knows I’m nuts and will probably just laugh it off. But at least I could tell someone.

  After breakfast and my second failed attempt to call Roger, I got dressed and headed out to the library like I had promised Aunt Rose I would. On my way, I thought about what I would say if Ms. Donaldson asked me about previous work experience. I had never had a job. My parents had left me a little bit of money, so as long as I did my chores, I received an allowance, which only went right back into my get-out-of-Marblehead account, anyway. But if the whole exploring-the-world thing didn’t work out, then I would definitely need some back-up cash.

  Chapter Six

  The library was in view, and it’s exactly what you would picture if you imagined a small-town library: a very predictable, two-story, redbrick-with-white-trim building. It stood in between our post office and city hall, looking very small in comparison. I don’t know what it is about the place, but the few times I had been inside, I would get an eerie feeling. Also, Ms. Donaldson was not the most welcoming person in town. She had never married, never had any children, and mostly kept to herself. Even weirder, she lived in the attic of the library after converting it to a small apartment. And there was the bizarre stare she would give me each time I walked in the place.

  My nerves worsened the closer I got to the large glass doors. As I approached them, I took in a deep breath. I walked in, looking to my left where I knew the librarian’s desk would be and where I knew I would see Ms. Donaldson sitting, reading a book. I knew this because the few times I had been there, that is exactly where she sat and that is exactly what she was doing. The door screeched loudly as it shut behind me, the sound making my nerves hit their peak.

  “He-llo, Ms. Donaldson,” I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking too much.

  “Oh, hello,” she responded, a smile spreading across her face.

  “I wanted to apply for the assistant librarian position. Is it still available?” I asked anxiously, hoping she couldn’t hear the unevenness in my voice. I was not sure why I was so nervous. It must have had something to do with first-job jitters or the fact that she was smiling at me. She never smiled at me.

  “Why, yes, dear, it’s still open. Sit down, and we’ll talk.” She motioned to the old orange-and-brown plaid chair in front of her desk. Wow, she was being nice. Too nice.

  “How have you been? I have not seen you around here lately, but I guess you wouldn’t be here unless it was for school, and you have graduated now. So why would you be hanging around here, am I right?” she rambled nervously. I wondered why she would be so nervous.

  I continued to smile as I took my seat and got comfortable. “I’ve been good, thanks. I’m just looking for a job for the summer to save up some extra money before I leave town.”

  “Leaving? Your aunt did not mention that to me.” She paused, looking at me mystified. “But why would she? It’s none of my business. Well, I know it’s not a glamorous job, and I’m afraid I can only pay you minimum wage, but the job is yours if you would like it.”

  “Really, that easy?” I asked, surprised.

  She laughed. “That easy. I mostly wanted to hire someone for company; it gets so lonely around here in the summer, and I have a few odd jobs that I’ve needed to get done. Plus, I’ve had the job posted for a few weeks now, and you’re the only applicant. Beggars can’t be choosers nowadays.”

  I couldn’t turn it down. Sure, there were definite drawbacks to working there. It was hard to put my finger on the one thing that
freaked me out the most. Maybe it was the age of the building and how it looked like it hadn’t been updated since it was built. Or, maybe it was how the main room of the library was dank and had a horrible musty smell. It had been a long time since I had been there, and I didn’t remember just how unnerving the place actually was. But it was quiet, and it would be so much better than waitressing somewhere. I accepted the job, and we planned out my work schedule. I would start the next day.

  After I left the library, I headed straight to Omega’s to meet up with Rebecca. As I walked, the afternoon sun glared down on me, and I couldn’t wait to get into some air-conditioning and have a nice, cold drink. Just that one thought made me pick up my pace, eager to quench my thirst. As I walked, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was someone behind me, following just a few steps back. Finally, when I couldn’t stand it anymore, I whipped around to face the person and demand that they back off. But I stood there facing nothing but empty air. Must just be the heat getting to me or something, I thought. Or maybe I can add paranoia to my growing list of disorders.

  I walked in and scanned the restaurant, but there was no sign of her. The restaurant was packed, and only a few free tables remained. The last booth in the corner was still available, so I took it. A few minutes passed, and the door to the restaurant opened again. I raised my head from the menu, fully expecting to see Rebecca strolling in, looking all frazzled because she was five minutes late. She hated being late. But my heart stopped when I saw it was Blake walking in. He immediately began scanning the restaurant as if he was looking for someone in particular. He seemed to find who he was looking when his bright blue eyes met mine. I shot my eyes back down toward the menu, scanning it but not actually reading anything that it said. Things had been awkward between us last night, and I wasn’t sure how to act. After a long minute, I felt brave enough to glance up through my eyelashes and scan the room for him. But after a few sweeps, I came up empty.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late,” Rebecca groaned as she scooted into the booth across from me.

  I flinched, startled by her presence. I didn’t even notice her approach. “No problem,” I responded, greeting her with a smile once I regained my composure.

  “So, I am all ready to go, and I must say I am terrified. I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive with my family in such a confined space. I mean, we are going to be together twenty-four hours a day for an entire month. How is this supposed to be a bonding experience? I seriously think my mom is losing it. She must think this is going to be fun, right?”

  And even though I heard her talking, knowing that she finished her rambling with a question and I was supposed to answer, I couldn’t concentrate on anything except for finding Blake. My eyes wandered around, sweeping the crowded restaurant over and over again.

  “Are you looking for someone in particular? I thought it was just going to be the two of us.” Her voice sounded a little annoyed and hurt.

  It stung me, and I immediately realized what I had done. “No, sorry. I just thought I saw someone I knew. Really, I’m all yours,” I said, feeling remorseful.

  She continued on as if nothing had happened. “Anyway, I was just thinking of how much I was going to miss you. I’m going to be gone most of the summer, and then I come back just to pack up and leave again.” She sighed.

  “I’m going to miss you, too. It will be lonely here this summer without you. And don’t worry too much about the road trip. Things may not be as bad as they seem. You may even have fun. Just think of all the great memories you will make and new places you will see,” I said, trying to reassure her.

  “I guess so,” she said bitterly.

  I decided it best to change the subject in order to distract her from her depressing thoughts and me from thinking of Blake. “I just got a job at the library, so you can’t say you’re going to have the most boring summer. I think I have that one won, hands down.”

  “Oh, that does sound awful. I think I would take my little brother over Ms. Donaldson any day.” She laughed.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought, but she’s not that bad, actually. I talked to her for a little while today, and she seems really nice.”

  “Yeah, nice and boring,” she added, and I couldn’t help but smile. At least Rebecca wasn’t still dwelling on how horrible of a summer she was going to have.

  “Woah, hottie at three o’clock is checking you out.” She said, leaning in closer to me.

  “What, who?” I asked, trying not to look around the room and give myself away. And as silly as it sounds, I could feel the stare that she was describing. It was similar to the stare I had felt the afternoon that Mr. Griffin almost made me a permanent mark on Main Street and the stare I felt last night when I ran into Abby and Blake after the party. The stare felt as if two lasers were boring into me, drilling some crazy feeling inside me.

  “Really, Meredith, I don’t know how you are so oblivious to your gorgeousness. I’m actually kind of glad that there will be one less bombshell to compete with me next year at BU.”

  I shook my head, trying to play it off as I glanced in the direction she said—and saw Blake sitting in the booth directly to my right. Could he have been there the whole time? How could I have missed him? As our eyes met, everything in the room stopped: no noisy chatter from the other guests, no sound of banging dishes, nothing but silence. His blues eyes pierced me, causing my breathing to pick up speed.

  “Meredith, don’t be so obvious,” I heard Rebecca mumble, sounding appalled.

  “What? Oh, sorry.” I shook my head, embarrassed that I had been caught staring at him.

  “He is super cute but based on his build he is probably just some stupid football jock. But you could at least try and play hard to get.” She laughed. “Unfortunately, he’s probably just a tourist; he will be gone in no time. That is one thing I won’t miss about the summers here, the tourist season is miserable. Ugh, it gets so claustrophobic in this town.”

  “No, he and his family actually just moved here for the summer. I met him yesterday.”

  “So, you know him? Well, introduce me, please,” she squealed in excitement.

  “Uh, it’s not like that. Let’s just change the subject to something else.”

  “Fine, not like it’s going to do me any good now. Leaving town and all.” She shrugged.

  Rebecca was like most other girls our age in the sense that all she cared about was boys, hair, and clothes, but she was also the most loyal, sweetest person I knew. The rest of lunch we spent talking about old times and how much we were going to miss one another when she left. The feeling like I was being watched eventually faded, and the next time I glanced toward the booth where Blake had been sitting, he was gone.

  As Rebecca and I hugged goodbye, I felt like I was losing a part of myself.

  “Call me when you get back, and maybe we can meet up before you leave for Boston.” I sighed as we squeezed each other tightly.

  “Promise,” her voice cracked, and I hoped she would not turn the moment into a sob fest. I was not good at dealing with those types of situations.

  As she walked away, I felt an ache of sadness in my heart. It was at that moment that I knew my life was about to change, that all I ever knew was fading away, and soon I would be leaving, too. I still had not heard from Roger, and it was starting to annoy me that he was mad at me for something so stupid. I had warned him I hated parties and all the stupid crap that went along with them. He shouldn’t have pushed me so hard to go.

  When I got home, Aunt Rose was still sleeping, so I decided to take advantage of the day and do some grocery shopping. Before I left for the grocery store, I left Aunt Rose a note, telling her I had borrowed her car and I would be back by six. I knew her shift started at eight, so I would have to have dinner ready to go pretty quickly after I got home.

  The grocery store was not packed, making it easier for me to get through my list more quickly. As I walked the aisles, I constantly looked over my shoulder, feeling as though
someone was right behind me. It can’t be the heat now, I thought. I’m in the meat department, and my arms are covered in goose bumps. Could just be my nerves, I figured. With the nightmare from last night still fresh on my mind, I guess there is a reason to be a little jumpy.

  Then it occurred to me that I was making a lot of excuses. It was not in my nature to avoid things like this. I realized I should probably talk to Aunt Rose that night. The paranoia-thing combined with the nightmares and seeing cars move in slow motion was probably a really bad sign. For all I knew, it could have been something serious, like a brain tumor or something.

  The house was still quiet when I got home, so I started on dinner. Soon the house was filled with the aroma of basil and garlic, making it feel like a home again—a feeling I rarely had anymore. It was even rarer that either Aunt Rose or I prepared a full meal. I usually survived on cereal or TV dinners, but there were the occasions where I craved a home-cooked meal, like my mother used to make almost every night.

  Aunt Rose woke and got fully dressed for her shift at work just as I was finishing up making the side salads for us. I placed the lasagna I had made down in the center of the table, and we both took our seats. It felt nice to have someone sitting across from me at the table. Too many nights, I was there alone. But tonight was a perfect night to have dinner together, since I had so much to tell her. Over our salads, I filled her in on the party, and she looked pleased that I had ventured out of my comfort zone and had given it a try. I told her about my quick and easy interview with Ms. Donaldson, and she promised to take me to lunch to celebrate my first job.

  Then it came time to dive into the complicated stuff, the stuff about me finally losing it. I hoped she would react nicely and not have me committed or something. “Aunt Rose.” I swallowed hard. “I—um, have been… How are things at work?” I totally panicked and chickened out.

  “Do you really want me to tell you about the staple I had to remove from Mr. Clary’s forehead last night? Some men should never be allowed to handle tools.” She shook her head, pulling a piece of lasagna from the dish. “Here, give me your plate, and I will cut you a piece,” she offered.