by D. S. Murphy
My face paled and I grabbed her wrist. “What, exactly?”
“A rumor. About you. Want to hear it? I wasn’t sure if I should tell you, but it’s probably better to know, instead of having people talk behind your back. Right?”
I gulped, then nodded. This was going to be bad.
“Courtney is pissed. She hated me already, cuz I’m with Cody, but she just thinks Cody is using me, and that it’s not serious. She thinks he’ll tire of me. So she’s been tolerating me, because she has her sights on Brett anyway. But then, I was upstairs with the boys at the party, and then you came in too. So now all her friends are saying you and I were letting the boys double team us or something, you know, sophomore skanks.”
The blood drained from my face, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. People thought I was a skank? I’d barely gotten to second base.
“But that’s not the rumor,” she continued. “One of the boys in the room is dating one of Courtney’s friends, so when he came back down, she was yelling at him, throwing a fit, asking why he’d been gone so long. And he told her that we were all smoking, but that you’d passed out, and everybody was freaking out and trying to revive you until you came to again. I think he needed to lay it on thick to convince her he hadn’t cheated on her with one of us. So then I heard this other rumor today about how you faked being passed out at Brett’s party to get him to notice you.”
Wait—what? My eyes went wide in surprise. “People think I’m a slut, and also that I faked passing out for attention?”
“I know, right? It doesn’t even make sense. The two rumors can’t both be true. Nobody who was in that room would have started a rumor like that, that’s so totally not what really happened. But if Courtney likes Brett, then she wouldn’t have been eager to feel sorry for you, and might have said something mean, like, ‘I bet she faked it for attention,’ and someone might have overheard that...”
I nodded. “You’ve really got this high school rumor mill thing down to a science.”
“I know,” she said, smiling. “I’m awesome. People have been talking shit about me for years. It used to stress me out, but it helps to know who started the rumors, and why. Courtney is just feeling threatened because a cute sophomore caught Brett’s attention. And either she’s totally crazy, or Brett actually likes you a little bit. Either way, it’s not a big deal. Well, at least it’s not negative.”
Not negative? I was mortified. Crys might be able to shrug it off, but how could I walk around school like everything was normal, knowing people were saying these awful things about me? And why would passing out make Brett like me more? It didn’t make any sense. If anything, he felt sorry for me. Or was annoyed. He probably wished Crys hadn’t brought me with her. Or maybe he was afraid I’d tell my parents and he’d get in major trouble for offering me drugs.
Or maybe he did like me. I fixated on this until lunch, because it made me feel a little better. I may or may not have even started sketching his face from memory and writing his name in my notebook repeatedly, something I hadn’t done for a while.
I kept my head down in class, with my hood up and earphones on. Ignore everybody for a few weeks, and it will all blow over. I just had to stay out of Courtney’s way, and avoid doing anything that drew more attention to myself.
After lunch I had gym class. I’d like to make the argument that varsity athletes made; that gym was a waste of time because they got plenty of exercise in their extracurricular activities. But I didn’t play any sports. The truth is, I hated gym because I hated running. Or moving my body quickly, at all. I had the reflexes of a doorstop, which made me inevitably horrible at any and all sports. I could do most of the challenges: rope climb, pushups, crunchies… but toss me into a team sport and my team would lose. I changed into my gym clothes, shorts and a t-shirt, and followed the other girls out onto the court.
We were playing volleyball. Not my least favorite, by a long shot. In basketball and soccer, you had to run around constantly, even if you didn’t have the ball. The teacher yelled at you to “pick up the pace” and “look alive.”
In volleyball you just stood there. I was pretty great at that part. But then there was the other part—what happened when the ball came right at you, and it was obviously yours. You were supposed to yell “I go” and then spike it, set it or bump it. We’d learned the terms at the beginning of the semester. I did okay if I was just practicing with a partner; usually Crys and I could get the ball back and forth between us five or six times, bumping it with our forearms.
But in a game, I panicked. Everything moved too quickly, and I’d hit the ball wrong, and it would shoot off to the side or hit another team member in the head. The other girls in my class had learned to duck, or better yet to steal the ball from me.
But today, when the whistle blew to start the game, something was... different. The opposing team served the ball. It came over to our side and one girl hit it back over the net, then someone on the other side gave it a hard bump. It went up, high over the net. When my brain figured out it was going to fall straight down towards me, my heart started pounding. But instead of freaking out, like I usually do, I focused.
Time seemed to slow down, and a subtle pink glow crept into the edges of my vision. I fixed my stance, clasping my hands and fingers together properly. I turned my wrists to control where the ball would go after I hit it and then—I waited.
When the ball arrived a second later, I hit it perfectly. It flew back over the net, just where I’d pictured it going. The gym was completely silent. Everyone was so surprised I’d managed to hit the ball, they just watched it until it hit the ground on the other side, scoring a point. My teammates stared at me with their mouths open.
I smiled... but then I saw Jennifer Crawford on the opposing team. I hadn’t recognized her at first, with her new haircut. It was chopped short, like a bowl.
5
The room spun and I felt nauseous. Jennifer looked exactly the way her photo had looked in the yearbook I saw at Brett’s house. When I was in the future. But that was impossible. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. The rest of the game I was my usual self, stumbling around and knocking the ball in every direction except over the net. When class was finally over I changed quickly, then waited for Crys outside the locker room. When she came out, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the side. She could read the panic on my face immediately.
“What is it?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“You won’t believe me,” I answered.
“Hey, you just scored a point. My credibility is seriously enhanced right now.”
“Did you see Jennifer Crawford’s new hairstyle?”
“Yeah, she totally looks like a boy. Cute though. So what?”
“I hadn’t seen it until just now. But it’s the first thing on that piece of paper I gave you.”
Crys reached into her bag and pulled out the folded paper.
“Go ahead, open it,” I said.
She tore the paper open, read it, then looked at me skeptically.
“Jennifer could have told you she was planning to cut her hair.”
“I haven’t said more than two words to Jennifer in years, not since middle school when we were lab partners together.”
“You could have seen it this morning, then written it down.”
“I didn’t.” She had to believe me.
“So, you’re telling me you can see the future? Seriously?”
I could see I was testing her patience.
“Look, I don’t know what’s happening. I’m not trying to convince you of anything, I swear. I just... something weird is going on with me, and I need you to be an objective witness. Okay?”
She twirled a strand of hair around her fingers for a moment, giving me a worried look, but finally nodded. She looked down at the note again.
“What about the second thing. Brandi has braces?”
“I saw her earlier,” I said. “No braces.”
“But you’re worrie
d that if she does get braces, it will mean something. It will prove you can see the future, or something.”
It sounded ridiculous coming from someone else. Crys was eyeing me like she was afraid I was going to lose it and start stripping off my clothes or talking to imaginary friends.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have told you,” I said.
Crys linked her arm in mine. “It’s fine. Let’s just play it like a game, okay? Our own little high school mystery. We’ll be the Hardy Boys.”
“Thanks,” I smiled.
“That doesn’t mean I believe you,” she said.
“I don’t even believe me, this is totally crazy. Does this sound like me?”
“No, actually, but you’ve been a little weird since—”
“Brett’s house. I know. There’s something else I didn’t tell you.”
She paused, waiting for me to go on.
“When I passed out, I had… kind of a dream. But it seemed real. I was still in Brett’s house, but I think it was the future. Or an alternate reality or something. Everything looked old, dirty. Abandoned. And I saw a yearbook. This year’s yearbook. I flipped through it, and Brandi and Jennifer’s pictures stood out, because they looked different.”
“The braces, and the hair,” Crys guessed.
I nodded.
“Wow,” Crys said, her eyes lighting up. “This is... potentially awesome. At least in theory. In practice, I hope I don’t have to be the one to tell your dad you need to talk with a therapist. So what’s our next move?” Crys asked.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Wait for Brandi to get braces?”
“Screw that, it could take years.”
“She had them in time for the yearbook photos,” I reminded her.
“Well, months then. But listen, if you can see the future, even if it’s extremely unlikely and probably impossible, then... wouldn’t you want to know right away?”
“Why?”
“So you can do it again, duh.”
I stared at her blankly. I hadn’t even thought about doing it again.
“You are so dense sometimes,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “You could have the answers to every exam. You could find out which team is going to win the Superbowl. You could win the motherfucking lottery, bitch.”
“I don’t know about any of that. I mean... you said I was out cold. Maybe it’s dangerous. We don’t even know what we really took—”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never smoked weed before, but... well, Brett’s dad works for Zamonta, right? And they do genetic testing on agricultural produce—” I was probably just being paranoid. My sister was rubbing off on me.
“Wait, you think Brett got a hold of some special blended shit? Wow. Freaky, scifi stuff.”
As we talked, we left the gym through a side door and went around to outside of the building facing the parking lot. Crys leaned against the wall and I sat next to her.
“Well, I’ve smoked weed a few times before,” Crys said. “This felt about the same. Well, not exactly, I guess. I felt light, happy, calm and euphoric.”
“Did you see any visions? Hallucinations?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“So it was just me then. How come it only affected me and not you guys?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t we ask Brett?”
“No way.” The thought of talking to Brett again terrified me.
“I can ask Cody then. I’ll be subtle about it.”
“Let’s talk to Brandi first,” I hedged. “Maybe this will all be unnecessary.”
***
We caught Brandi after school. She had orange hair and freckles. Hard to miss. We weren’t exactly friends, so this conversation could get weird, but I had a credible excuse.
“Hey Brandi, I’m doing a survey for health class. It’s extra credit. Have you ever worn braces?” I asked, holding up my pen and notebook like I was preparing to write down her answer.
“No,” she said.
“Do you plan on getting braces anytime soon?”
She frowned, and looked down at the notebook.
“Who’s going to see this?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Nobody. There’s no report or anything. Teacher’s eyes only,” Crys said quickly.
“Okay, well, I’m actually getting braces in two weeks. My parents are totally forcing me into it. But I haven’t told anyone yet... I’m afraid of how my boyfriend’s going to react, so—don’t say anything.”
“I swear. Not a soul,” I said.
Crys was giving me a ride home, so we started walking towards her car. She’d been quiet since we talked to Brandi.
“Tell me the truth,” she said as she pulled out her keys. “Are you fucking with me?”
“What? No!”
“You honestly had no idea about Brandi and Jennifer.”
“Not until today.”
“But you saw Jennifer’s new haircut and Brandi’s braces on Saturday night?”
I nodded. That wasn’t all I saw, but I knew better than to push my luck.
Crys unlocked the car and we got inside.
She started the engine, then pulled out of the parking lot.
“We have to tell Cody and Brett,” she said finally.
“That I’m having a psychotic meltdown? No thanks.”
“We don’t have to tell them everything. Not completely. We just have to get them to invite us over to smoke again.”
“Why would I do that?” I said. The thought of returning to that dark world, full of death and decay, made me shiver.
“Well, because this is going to drive both of us insane until we figure out what’s really going on. Plus, it’s a chance for you to hang out with Brett again. Maybe make a better impression.”
I hesitated. I was tempted to tell her everything. Maybe if Crys knew how awful my experience had been, she wouldn’t push me to do it again. But then I realized, that’s exactly why I had to go back. If there was a slim chance what I’d seen was real, I had bigger problems than homework and high school rumors. In the world I’d seen, something very, very bad had happened. Something that took everybody by surprise. Maybe I could figure out what went wrong. Maybe I could stop it.
I met Crys’s eyes and nodded.
“It’s not going to be easy, after what happened last time, I doubt Brett will let me back into his house.”
“Let me handle it, okay?” she said. “I can be very persuasive.”
6
“No way,” Brett said, crossing his arms. It was Wednesday night, and we were crammed into a small booth at a coffee shop on Main Street. Crys asked Cody to bring Brett, but he looked a little peeved when he saw me. It looked like we’d orchestrated a blind date. I didn’t blame him for feeling tricked. But then Crys started asking questions about what we’d smoked at the party, hinting that we wanted more.
“Is that why we’re here?” Brett said, a look of disgust on his face. He lowered his voice and whispered. “You guys want me to sell you drugs? Even if I was a dealer, which I’m not, and even if I had more of it, which I don’t, there’s no way I would give you any. Look, I don’t even smoke that much, I just wanted to share some with Cody at the party and then it grew into this big thing.” He glared at Cody.
The waitress interrupted us to take our order. I got a strawberry milkshake and a side of apple pie. The others got coffee. When the waitress had left, Crys nudged me, and I nodded. We’d prepared a story earlier.
“I know I passed out last time. It was my first time smoking, and I think it affected me differently. But I actually had... a really cool dream... intense. I think I was probably fine, and the dream was amazing. So I just wanted to do a little experiment. Maybe things would be different this time. I feel like it’s important to me, that I finish what I started.” The lies felt ridiculous on my tongue, and Brett wasn’t buying it for a second.
“You want to use drugs, at my house, and go into a coma... and we’re supposed to wha
t, just wait around for you to come back? So you can have a nice dream? I’m sorry but that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
He was right, of course. His jaw was clenched, like he expected me to keep arguing. I kept my mouth shut. There was no way I was going to convince him.
“She saw the future,” Crys blurted out.
Cody laughed and Brett looked at her like she was crazy. I blushed, but didn’t deny it.
“The dream she had, she—we—think she may have actually seen something. When she came back, she knew that two things were going to happen; and they both came true. A girl in our class got a haircut, and another one had braces.”
“You think you...” Brett paused, rubbing his chin.
“She’s kidding,” Cody said. “You’re kidding, right babe?”
“Or they’re lying, because they want to get high again,” Brett said.
This day was getting worse and worse. It was one thing to have kids at school saying mean things about me, but I never thought I’d hear Brett Peters call me a liar. I hated liars.
“I’m not lying,” I said, clenching my fists under the table. I held Brett’s gaze, knowing I’d just crossed the line, from tolerable but annoying younger girl to batshit crazy psycho Brett would never want to be around again.
“Look I don’t know what I saw,” I said. “It was probably all in my head, I know how it sounds. The other things are some dumb coincidence, and we’re just impressionable young girls who want to believe in magic. I know how it looks,” I said, my words faltering.
“And we totally get it,” Crys said, taking over. “We shouldn’t do it at your house. If you can sell us some of the stuff we took before, we’ll do it at my house. We’ll never breathe a word to anyone. No matter what happens, it won’t get traced back to you.”
“Absolutely not,” Brett said again. “This is not happening.” He slid out of the booth and stood up to leave.
“When you were little, did you give your mom a framed photograph decorated with macaroni?” I asked. The question took him by surprise, but he didn’t sit back down. Crys and Cody looked at me, then back at Brett, waiting for his answer.