The Rising

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The Rising Page 12

by Temple Mathews


  “Wait for a second before coming in,” he said.

  He opened the door and walked in ahead of her. She hung back for a beat, then walked in, not even bothering to look at him. Fine and dandy. She would play the part of a distant friend; she would play any role Will asked her to. But there was one thing she could never do, even if he demanded it. She could never stop loving him with every beat of her heart.

  • • •

  At lunchtime Natalie and Emily found one another and went through the hot food line together, getting soup and sandwiches. Emily kept her head down, trying to blend in. All she wanted was to have one boring, normal school day. Rudy was already regressing back to his old Harrisburg self, his spine bent, his eyes downcast. He’d reached out to make friends, but after being rejected a half-dozen times, he’d retreated back into his shell. He stood meekly as others cut in front of him in the pizza line. When he finally got his double pepperoni pizza and coke, he looked around the lunchroom, spotted Natalie and Emily, smiled, and began walking their way. Emily wasn’t pleased.

  “Is it seriously gonna be like this? Do I have to hang with him at school, too?”

  “Don’t be such a meanie. He’s been through a lot, Em, you could cut him some slack, you know?” said Natalie.

  “I know I could. But I’m not going to. I didn’t like him before, and I like him even less now. I don’t trust him.”

  As Rudy was passing a table crowded with black-clad goths, a fat glam rocker wearing white sunglasses stuck out his foot and Rudy went sprawling, much to the delight of those watching. Laughter echoed through the lunchroom. Rudy stayed down too long. Natalie wondered if he was hurt and was about to get up and go help him when he stood, his spine now straight. He looked like a different person. The laughter stopped because suddenly everyone sensed that this kid, though skinny and short, was not someone to be messed with. Everyone, that is, but the glam rocker, who stood up, proudly displaying his pierced belly button. He glared at Rudy.

  “What are you looking at?”

  “I’m not exactly sure, but I’m thinkin’ a brainless doofus,” said Rudy calmly.

  “Boys’ room. Second floor. After lunch,” spit the kid. “I wanna have a little talk with you, weasel face!”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” said Rudy.

  Will was just entering the lunchroom carrying his tray, and he caught the tail end of the confrontation. After a quick scan located Natalie and Emily and assured him they were okay, he joined Rudy as he sat down at a far table.

  “Do you think you can manage to stay out of trouble on the first day, at least?”

  “There’s no trouble, no trouble at all,” Rudy said.

  “Make sure it stays that way,” said Will. He ate his burger as he scanned the lunchroom again, looking for Blue Streak or the other shedemons he’d tangled with . . . or the girl with the emerald eyes. He’d seen a girl with strawberry-blonde hair earlier that morning in the hallway, but it could have been anyone. There wasn’t really any reason for him to believe the girl was a student here. He just had a feeling.

  Maybe it was just wishful thinking, because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She’d known what the shedemons were; he was sure of it. And she’d known how to drive them off. She had information he could use. But that wasn’t the only reason she was foremost in his thoughts. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew he needed to see her again.

  Natalie was staring at Will from across the lunchroom and her heart was beginning to grow heavy. She knew why he’d put a wall between them. She’d even agreed to it. But that didn’t make it any easier. In history class, as Mr. Wheeler had droned on about the Roman Empire, Natalie must have looked over at Will about a thousand times, and never once did he meet her gaze. When the class ended, Will was out the door and off to his next class without so much as a parting glance. Negative thoughts began to gnaw at her. One part of her knew, just knew that Will loved her as much as she loved him. But another part whispered that she was wrong, that she wasn’t good enough for him. She just needed for him to look over at her once, to reassure her she hadn’t imagined the way he felt about her.

  “What’s going on with you and Will?” asked Emily.

  Natalie felt like her sister had just dribbled cold water down her back.

  “What are you talking about? Nothing’s going on,” she said.

  She knew she sounded defensive. She wasn’t surprised Emily didn’t buy it.

  “Then why is he ignoring you? And why are you feeling so sad and afraid?”

  “He’s not. And I’m fine.”

  “Hey, don’t pull that with me. We’re in synch, remember? I can feel what you feel sometimes, especially when it’s heavy, like right now. So how about sharing, huh?”

  Natalie put her head in her hands and let down her guard. Why was she even trying to fool Emily? They always picked up on everything the other one was feeling. It was how Natalie had known Emily wasn’t really dead back in Harrisburg.

  “Oh God, okay. I’m sorry. Will said—this morning he told me we should pretend we weren’t together, because they could use me to get to him. And he’s right, but I hate it. It sucks. I know it’s just pretend, but it feels like he’s trying to force a wedge between us.”

  “Nat, you worry too much. Anyone can see that he’s crazy about you.”

  Emily’s words helped. Natalie took a deep breath. “You sure? I mean, you really think so?”

  “I know so.”

  For the moment Natalie was reassured, and the girls went back to their lunches, chewing slowly. A group of boys walked by, strutting their stuff, but the twins ignored them.

  A poster outside the second-floor boys’ room featured a Fightin’ Falcon screeching the words “BEAT ROOSEVELT!” Rudy walked by it and entered the boys’ room. The blubber-belly glam rocker was leaning against a stall smoking a cigarette, which he shared with his two friends, who were both also on the flabby side and sporting plenty of tats.

  “Well, look who actually showed up,” Fat Glam said, and wasted no time before lunging at Rudy. Rudy sidestepped him with ease and kicked him in the back, a move that sent the hefty boy sprawling into the urinals, his nose hitting with a sickening crunch.

  He turned and blinked as he felt the blood gushing from his nose.

  “What the hell?!”

  His comrades decided this would be a good time to jump in, and one of them took a swing. Rudy ducked it and punched the guy in the gut. The kid doubled over and heaved his lunch up all over the tile floor. While he continued to retch, the other dude grabbed Rudy from behind, but Rudy wasn’t about to be held. He stomped on the guy’s metatarsals, breaking one of them. Howling in pain, the kid immediately let go of Rudy and fell to the floor, clutching his foot.

  “Son of a bitch, man!”

  Rudy stood his ground, folding his arms.

  “So, did you have something you wanted to share with me?” he asked Fat Glam.

  All three of the bullies shook their heads. Rudy walked to the urinal to relieve himself, and the three chunky guys took the opportunity to exit swiftly.

  Will was approaching the boys’ room as the trio stumbled out, one limping, another smelling of vomit, the third with blood still trickling from his nose. Natalie and Emily had followed Will when he left the lunchroom, and they, too, saw the walking wounded. Then Rudy casually strolled out and smiled.

  “Hey. What’s up?”

  Will shook his head. There was no question about it. Rudy still had a little bit of demon in him. Maybe a lot.

  “You need to listen to me,” Will said. “We had an agreement.”

  “Hey, a dude’s gotta defend himself. Truth?”

  “Truth,” said Will. And part of him was glad that Rudy wasn’t just letting himself get picked on, for once. “I take it by the outcome that they weren’t . . .”

  “Infected? No. Just jerks. My guess is this school’s full of them.”

  “I’ve yet to see a high school that isn’t.” The f
ourth period bell rang. “Come on,” said Will, “let’s get to class.”

  Natalie and Emily watched as Will and Rudy walked away. Natalie had tried to make eye contact with Will, but it was a no go. He was still pretending she didn’t exist. Watching Rudy walk away, Emily’s eyes narrowed. She wanted to say I told you so, wanted to crow about Rudy being a little beast. But she was actually kind of impressed that he’d stood up for himself, even if it meant he was a little wicked. She shook her head at her own feelings. Go figure.

  Between fourth and fifth periods, the hallways were rivers of kids flowing to and fro, and Will stood in the middle of one, watching. Girls seemed to find him particularly interesting, as was always the case when he showed up as the New Kid. They found him dangerously handsome and would point and whisper. Some smiled, and some did their best to show him how thoroughly they were ignoring him. He was used to this kind of attention and let it all roll right on past as he scoped out the student body. He saw the usual assortment of gangsta wannabes with their pants hung low, goths with their purple hair and studded chokers, geeks and nerds and jocks and everyone in between. He thought he might have spotted a couple of demonteens, but he couldn’t be sure. Everyone was giving him a pretty wide berth, and so far none of the Alpha males had come around to mark their territory by picking a fight with him. If he wanted to smoke out the demonteens at this school he’d have to rattle some cages, and he wasn’t up for any overt confrontations just yet.

  The hallways were clearing out, locker doors slamming and kids jostling and disappearing into classrooms as the fifth period bell rang. Will was going to be late. He started off toward his class, and as he rounded a corner, at the far end of the longest hallway in the school—the one that ended in a T at the trophy case—he saw something that made his pulse quicken: a flash of strawberry-blonde hair. He looked around to make sure no one was watching and then bent time as he ran the length of the hallway in two seconds. He should have been right behind her, but, amazingly, she was already at the end of another hallway and turning another corner. Again Will fairly flew down the hallway after her—and again she was ahead of him, darting into a classroom.

  Will approached the door. It was an art class. He might catch hell from the principal, but he didn’t want to lose the girl so he slipped inside. A flamboyant middle-aged teacher circled the room as the students set up in front of their easels and went about sketching the objects of the day: a gnarled piece of driftwood and an old Japanese blue glass float. The teacher, resplendent in her flowing African panoply, was doing her best to put out a “free spirit” vibe. She was playing New Age music from speakers hooked to her iPod, and she swept around the room making encouraging, nurturing sounds, the plethora of beads around her neck and wrists jangling. Will moved in counterpoint to her, playing cat and mouse, taking care to always keep an easel between them to keep himself out of her view. He continued this game as he scanned the room, hoping to find the girl before being discovered by Ms. Flamboyant. There were plenty of girls in the class, but he couldn’t find her. He wondered if she had somehow passed right through the classroom on her way to who knows where else. He glanced around for exit doors but saw none. Maybe he hadn’t seen her after all. Maybe he was following a ghost.

  “Excuse me?” said the teacher, having finally discovered Will. “What have we here?” she asked playfully. “Are we lost?”

  “Um, I’m new . . . I think I’m registered in this class.”

  The woman looked at Will knowingly. She’d heard it before.

  “And your name is . . .?”

  “Will. Will Hunter.”

  “Well, Mr. Hunter . . . Will . . .” she held out her hand, smirking. “Let’s have a look at your schedule.” She stretched out the last word. Shed-you-ul.

  Will patted his pockets.

  “I think I lost it.”

  “Well then, let’s not waste this opportunity. You have a striking profile. Come. Stand here.” She pulled Will into the center of the room.

  “Let’s shift gears,” said the teacher, “from the inanimate, to the intimate!”

  She whirled and changed the music on her iPod, and the students in the room began sketching Will as he stood silent and still. Only his eyes moved. Even from his new, better vantage point he could not find the girl with the emerald eyes and was beginning to wonder if she even existed. Perhaps she had been a hallucination in the aftermath of the shedemons’ attack.

  “Thank you, Mr. Hunter,” the teacher said after ten minutes of fruitless searching for the girl while the rest of the class used him as a model. “You can step down and find an easel for the rest of class.”

  But as he stepped away from the center of the classroom his eyes caught a reflection in the window, not of a student, but of one of the easels. His heart skipped a beat. He blinked, trying to bring the image into focus. Because the window was streaked, he couldn’t tell if the image was what he feared it was. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. He turned his head, trying to figure out where the reflection was coming from. There, right in front of him. He walked slowly around the easel and there she was; the girl with the strawberry-blonde hair and piercing emerald eyes. And right now her eyes were staring, trance-like, at what she’d just sketched. It was a haunting rendition of Will’s dream, the one featuring the Dark Lord’s body lying on the marble altar.

  “How did you . . .” Will barely got the words out before the girl snapped out of her trance and snatched her drawing, crumpling it up. She knocked over her easel as she bolted from the room. The other students gaped as Will ran after her. Moments later, he caught up to her in the hallway.

  “Get away from me!” she said, looking around.

  “That drawing. How did you see it? What you drew, I mean—”

  His eyes were demanding. She met them fiercely.

  “I told you to forget you ever met me.”

  He shook his head. “And I told you I don’t shy away from trouble.”

  She kept looking around as though they were going to be swarmed at any second.

  “Listen, I took pity on you because you were hurt. I shouldn’t have; you took it totally the wrong way. Now it’s time for you to back off.”

  “Hey!” shouted Will as she shoved him backward—with surprising strength—and moved swiftly down the hallway. She slowed down as a janitor came out of the teachers’ lounge, pushing a trash can on wheels. When he’d gone past, Will zoomed down the hall and caught up with her again.

  “I asked you a question about that drawing. I want an answer.”

  The girl looked up and down the hallway frantically, as though she knew something was about to go down. Her eyes narrowed in anger and she hissed at him.

  “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. Leave. Just leave LBJ High!”

  If she’d known anything about him, she’d have realized that he wasn’t the kind of boy who would cut and run when faced with mystery or danger. No, he was exactly the opposite. He would dig and dig until he found what he was looking for.

  She spoke again, ominously. “There’s nothing for you here.”

  “You’re here,” said Will. The two words stopped them both cold. He hadn’t meant it to sound in any way flirtatious, but somehow it came out that way. He was drawn to her, but not like that. And he needed her for information. Unfortunately, he could tell by the suspicion in her eyes that he was going to have to work for it.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, trying to make his voice casual.

  “My name is none of your business,” snapped the girl.

  Then a voice echoed through the hallway. “I’d like both of you to come with me, please.” A woman was striding toward them. She looked formidable in her tall black boots, tweed skirt, and crisp blouse, and she carried a ticket book like a traffic cop.

  Must be the school heat, thought Will. Indeed, it was the vice principal, Gloria Haynes, who had a reputation for policing the hallways with an unnerving vigilance. Her eyes narrowed at Will.r />
  “You’re one of the newly registered students, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said, staring guiltily at the floor and slipping into “embarrassed teen boy” mode, his best defense in situations like this.

  “Not exactly off to an auspicious start, are we?”

  “I guess not.”

  “And Loreli, the next time you have to depart a classroom, be advised that you will need to ask permission.”

  “Okay,” said Loreli, her eyes also downcast.

  Loreli, thought Will. So she does have a name.

  After school Will did as his “behavioral infraction” write-up instructed and reported to detention. As soon as he entered he saw that Loreli was there, too, along with a goofy, small-boned kid in a faux-hawk who wasn’t wearing any shoes and kept wiggling his toes nervously. Loreli was sitting all the way in the back on the left side. Will began to walk toward her, intending to plant himself right next to her. But the detention monitor, Coach Wasserman, a tall skinny guy with a big head and a gray crew cut, threw a wrench in that plan.

  “Not gonna happen, pal. Other corner.”

  Will did as he was told and walked toward the corner desk all the way to the right. The desks were made of Formica and metal, and they were the kind that were so strong you could throw one across the room without breaking it. The room was painted a faint orange that was cracking in spots. One of the fluorescent lights overhead buzzed. Will sat down and opened his backpack. He took out some books and pretended to do his homework, but the only thing he was studying was Loreli. She was killer gorgeous, the kind of beauty that could suck the breath right out of your chest. She was doing an impressive job of ignoring him, but she could feel his eyes on her and glanced up angrily a few times, affording him a good long look at her amazing piercing green eyes.

  There was definitely something portentous about this girl. Anyone could see that she was dazzling, but there was something else about her, too, something Will picked up on with his seventh sense. Loreli’s green eyes were spewing tons of information, even if she wasn’t aware of it. Will found himself inexorably drawn toward her. It wasn’t like he’d forgotten about Natalie; he loved Natalie, even if they were doomed. But this girl . . . she was exuding a kind of irresistible charisma. Will worried he might be powerless against it. He remembered standing next to her earlier that afternoon, breathing in her scent, and how eerily familiar it had been.

 

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