Bridget. The voice was low but I could still hear it over the giggles in the back. I looked up.
"Yes?" Mr. Wellborne stopped his lecture, giving me a funny look. Meanwhile, half the class turned around to look at me. Their facial expressions mimicked Mr. Wellbourne's puzzled look.
"I'm sorry Bridget. Did you have a question?" Mr. Wellborne was looking at me, awaiting an answer. I shook my head. I could've sworn he said my name. I blushed and shook my head. The class directed their attention towards the front again and my fingers resumed drawing.
Bridget. The same voice pulsed through my mind again, this time a little louder. I put my pencil down and looked at the girl next to me. She saw me looking at her and grinned. I nodded but she didn't say anything. I heard the voice a third time. The louder it got, the raspier it sounded. Bridget. I dropped my pencil and annoyingly stared at the students in closest proximity. They looked as if they were intently listening to Mr. Wellborne's explanation about the different sections of the small intestines.
I decided to keep my head up. Most of the class had quiet minds. The majority of the thoughts in the classroom centered around Mr. Wellborne's lecture. Though a guy in the corner was replaying the graphic night he'd had with his girlfriend. Sick. But no one had thoughts that focused on me, not at the moment.
Bridget. The voice entered my head a fourth time. No one moved their lips. No one looked in my direction. I could feel the muscles in my legs tense up. Maybe I was just being paranoid? Bridget. The voice was getting louder, making the hairs on my arms stand up. No one was speaking. I was sure of it. The raspy voice was a thought – a really creepy thought.
I stared around the room without blinking. My eyes got watery. This kind of thing had never happened to me before. No one, aside from my mom, had ever purposely thought something for me to hear. The cruel voice came again, this time giving me chills. Bridget. I wanted to jump up and yell at the whole class. But I took a large breath and tried not to jump to any conclusions. I didn't want anyone to think I was crazy.
Mr. Wellborne continued lecturing in a monotonous tone. My whole body was tense. I desperately wanted to leave my seat, run out the door, and breathe in fresh air. A few drops of sweat lingered on my forehead as I fought my instinct to flee. I was hearing things, weird things. What if the voice followed me to my next class or even home?
"Bridget? Be my partner?" The girl sitting next to me was waving her hands, trying to get my attention.
"What did you say?" I asked in confusion.
"Be my partner?" She replied slowly, now doubting her decision to ask me.
"Did you say my name just now?" I whispered. She gave me a look similar to Rory – the look that told me I was acting like a weirdo.
"Uh, yeah. We're like supposed to talk about the essay question and stuff?"
"Yeah, of course." I smiled and laughed, pretending too hard to act casual. It just made me seem more out of it. "Sorry, it's just been one of those days."
"Late night Saturday?" She winked and flicked her hair again. "I'm Ellie, by the way. I'm on the cheer squad with your friend Emma. And Stacy, I thought to myself. The girl that died Friday during the football game.
"Yeah sure," I muttered. "So what question are we supposed to talk about?"
"Uh, essay number two on the review sheet. The roles of the – Bridget- stomach during –Bridget- the breakdown – Bridget- of food." The raspy voice entered my head, confusing me. I couldn't focus on anything Ellie was saying to me. Bridget. Bridget. Bridget.
I jumped to my feet with sweat dripping down my cheek. My chest felt heavy as I let out a few gasps. Ellie watched with raised eyebrows. Her thoughts explained the expression on her face. What the hell is she doing? Ellie was the only student looking at me. Everyone else had their attention directed at their assigned essay questions. I couldn't find a way to make myself understand.
"Um sorry, there was a fly." I sighed and sat down. Ellie nodded and started copying her answer from the textbook. She didn't want to waste time waiting for me to cooperate. She had a big mall trip planned, and she didn't want unfinished homework to interfere. I followed her lead and decided to keep my mouth shut the rest of the period. I wrote on my review sheet as fast as I could. When I was finished, my handwriting was barely legible.
I felt like my desk was holding me hostage. I was stuck in a never ending class. The sight of my classmates was seriously starting to freak me out. Panic was setting in, but I fought to suppress it. This was all just a misunderstanding. It had to be.
"So what's he like?" Ellie's voice went unusually high. I was a little shocked that she was trying to start another conversation. Ellie's mind had invented an explanation for my behavior – drugs. Yet she still forced herself to get a few details about the new guy at school. She eagerly waited for a response, meanwhile daydreaming about Terrence. Her brain literally started counting the ways she could steal him away. After all, I was a druggy right? I wanted to ignore her, but I resorted to playing dumb.
"What's who like?" I replied. The sour look on Ellie's face cheered me up a little.
"Terrence, of course," she responded. "Everyone knows that the two of you went to homecoming together." Ellie knew that I'd left early – most of the school did. And the latest rumor was that Terrence had too. Ellie had put two and two together. Had I given Terrence a backstage pass? There was desperation in Ellie's stare.
"What exactly are people saying?" I asked.
"That the two of you are together."
"Well, we're not." I looked at the clock. Ellie pretended to frown but inside, she was overjoyed. I had said just the thing she wanted to hear.
"Sorry, it's just that you arrived together and then left together so I assumed that . . ."
"Left together? You mean Terrence didn't go back inside?" I smiled. Was it possible that Terrence and I still had a shot? Ellie looked confused. "I mean, never mind." Thinking about Terrence eased the knot in my stomach. It was a positive I wanted to hold on to. I'd spent all weekend wishing things had played out differently. Maybe I hadn't ruined everything, especially if he went home right after I did . . . alone.
* * *
I'd never darted out of Biology so fast. Ellie must've thought my shoes were on fire. I couldn't wait to go home and shut myself in my room. I needed peace and quiet. I needed to reset my brain. But first, I had to get through lunch with Emma. I waited in our usual spot - a quiet corner by the gym and away from usual traffic. Our corner was less crowded than the lunch room. I sat with my back against the wall, watching a few students who lingered near the drinking fountain.
"Hey, Bri!" Emma took a seat next to me and handed me a soda. "I got us diet. I hope that's ok?" I grabbed the soda can.
"As long as it has caffeine. I have a monstrous headache." I took a huge gulp.
"So," Emma said casually.
"Just skip through the small talk. You want to know about Terrence." I took another gulp of soda and cleared my throat. Emma smiled and listened intently. "We had a good time. We laughed. We danced. We even held hands. And then I went home."
"And?" Emma was disappointed by my vague description. I shrugged and took another big swallow of soda.
"And that's about it," I finished.
"Did he kiss you?" Emma asked. I almost spit soda all over my jeans. Emma's eyes went wide as she waited for an answer.
"No, Em. We didn't exactly get that far. I had a migraine and went home."
"Oh." She looked down at her lunch. I finished my soda and squeezed the metal can. It made a noise that filled the hallway. Emma continued prodding for information. "Well, has he talked to you today?" I shook my head.
"We don't have any classes together." I could tell Emma was bummed. She'd been hoping for a different story, one involving the announcement of my first official boyfriend.
"Well, I'm sure he'll call or something. I really thought he liked you." Her words were sincere. Emma would never have tried to steal Terrence from me, not that we were an item. T
he thought had never even crossed her mind. She wanted me to be happy.
"Yeah maybe," I said. "Or maybe he just really needed a date for the dance?"
"You weren't just a replacement, Bri. Don't go thinking that." Emma's advice was always heartfelt. At times it was like Emma could read my mind. I closed my eyes and took in the silence. Finally some silence, I thought.
A few footsteps made noise down the hall but our lunch spot was empty. I only had three more classes to go before I could go home. But I silently added up all the days I still had to spend at Mountain View - four more days until the weekend, and then like six months after that before summertime. Summer vacation was always bliss. I wasn't a slave to buzzing hallways and pornographic daydreams.
Bridget. My eyes opened. Emma was chewing on a piece of her sandwich.
"Yeah?" I said nervously, hoping the voice was Emma's. Emma frowned.
"I didn't say anything." She took another bite of her sandwich. I gulped. It was happening again. Someone was messing with my head. But that meant that . . . My eyes went wide and my throat welled up. That meant some one knew my secret. Some one knew I could read people's thoughts. "Bridget?" Emma looked me as I covered my ears. "Bridget? Are you okay?" I looked at Emma again. Her face looked gravely concerned. "Yeah, I'm talking to you. Are you ok?"
"Yeah." I spoke and exhaled at the same time.
"Are you having a panic attack?" She felt my forehead and reached in her bag for some water. "Here. Drink some water." It wasn't possible, was it? My mom was the only other person on the planet who knew my secret. My best friend didn't even know.
"Sorry. It's just all the stuff that's been going on. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed." I grabbed a strand of hair, twirling it between my fingers. Emma didn't buy my excuse.
"You know, sometimes I think you don't tell me things on purpose." Her mind wandered back to elementary school. I'd always leave class with no explanation, and know things about people I shouldn't have known. Yet still, after all these years, Emma's suspicions were far from the actual truth. That was probably a good thing.
"Don't be silly, Em." She stood up and lent me a hand. "I'll be fine come next period. Let's hit the vending machines." I looked up and down the empty hallway. I used to have nightmares about stuff like this. They always started with one kid who had figured out my secret. And when that kid finally blabbed, the entire school would end up mobbing me at my locker. I usually woke up buried in my blankets, dripping in sweat.
I followed Emma, focusing on my steps. I counted each one. In a couple of hours, I could go home and forget this awful day. My muscles tightened. The sound of my own footsteps made me jumpy. Why couldn't I have just gotten a note in my locker? That was better than the growing bubble of paranoia in my brain. I turned around one last time to face the empty hallway, and my face cringed. I heard the voice again, and this time I was sure it wasn't imaginary. Bye Bridget.
Chapter Five
Sanity
I watched Rory gather his things and disappear into the science lab down the hall. My head was spinning and every sound around me made my heart pound. I was afraid. No, I was terrified that any second I'd hear the cruel, raspy voice call my name. My taunter could've been anywhere or anyone. Someone might even be watching this very moment. My feet went on auto pilot and carried me to the science lab.
I stormed into the empty lab and shut the door behind me, relishing the comforting silence. I listened for a minute to make sure no one else was in the room. Rory looked bewildered. He was alone. His thoughts were on overload as usual, and I was the last person he'd expected to see. I, Bridget Ferns, had voluntarily walked into the science lab. Rory was intrigued.
"What are you doing here? You lose something?" Yeah my mind, I thought to myself.
Rory knew that something wasn't right. I guess it was the look on my face. Rory thought about the note and he'd been thinking about the broken bracelet all day. He wasn't coping well, despite the brave face. But at least he seemed to be handling all this better than me. He still had his sanity. "Bridget, you don't look so good."
"Before you ask, the answer is no," I immediately responded. "I didn't get a note in my locker."
"So what did you get?"
"What makes you think I got anything?" I wiped my forehead and forced a smile, but Rory wasn't fooled. He was certain that something had happened but he didn't want to pry. Stacy was a scary topic of discussion at the moment. Just like me, Rory wanted to avoid the subject.
"Then quit acting like you've seen a ghost."
"You have no idea," I muttered. I dropped my backpack and sat on a stool next to Rory. He was jotting stuff down in a notebook and booting up his laptop. "Look, I know you've been thinking about the bracelet all day." Rory turned to me with a curious face. "I mean, I'm guessing you've been thinking about . . ." I tried to backtrack.
"Certain events?" Rory shut his notebook and straightened his glasses. "Well, you guessed right. You may not think this is serious, but it is. I've been trying to take my mind off it, but then the note pops back into my head." Rory was frustrated. Seeing me just reminded Rory that he was the only one in danger. He was the one who called the police, and he was the one who got a warning.
"I am taking this seriously," I replied. Rory strongly disagreed but didn't want to cause an argument.
"Fine," he replied. "Tell me what happened then? You don't need to lie you know. Just tell me what your note said. I can handle it." I hesitated. How was I supposed to explain to Rory that someone was messing with my head? I couldn't. It wouldn't make sense to him.
"What do you mean?" I had no idea what else to do, so I brushed off his question. Rory rolled his eyes, now even more annoyed.
"That's why you're here, Bridget. And don't tell me you come to the science lab for fun. That kind of lie would be obvious." Rory's thoughts said the rest. This girl must have a lot of issues. That would explain the mood swings. I scowled at Rory but he ignored me and focused on his laptop. He hit a few keys and a window popped up on his computer screen. It had a picture of Stacy.
"News report," Rory mentioned. "Her cause of death has been determined. Heart failure?"
"Like a heart attack?" I gulped. That would explain her lack of wounds – no cuts, no bruises, no bullet holes. As Rory kept reading the wheels in his head turned faster.
"I guess, but heart failure is too general of a term. What they're really saying is they still don't know what killed her." Rory was disappointed. He'd been hoping for a detailed coroner's report but all he got was speculation. He shook his head, unimpressed with Stacy's diagnosis. "I want to see the bracelet."
"Keep your voice down," I whispered. "And forget it. I'm not bringing that thing to school."
"Why are you making things difficult? The murderer is after me, remember? No one's after you."
"That's not true," I protested. Rory raised his eyebrows. I looked around and forced myself to speak as quietly as possible. "Since you want to know so badly, someone is after me, okay."
"You got a note?" Rory whispered back. "I knew it."
"Sort of," I answered hesitantly. "It's hard to explain. I don't really want to talk it." Rory scratched his head.
"Geez, you're hard to figure out." Rory sighed. "Fine. I'll take your word for it." I nodded gratefully. My comment only created hundreds of new questions in Rory's mind. Each question burned in his head, desperate for a reply. Rory filed all his questions away. He wasn't going to ask me anything else. He didn't want to pressure me.
"Thanks." It was a relief to know I could count on him even though we didn't exactly get along. Rory shut off his computer and packed up his bag.
"Is that a sarcastic thanks or a real thanks?" He muttered while he collected his things. I laughed.
"It's a real thanks," I assured him. "But I could always take it back." Rory grinned. I'd never seen him smile before. It changed the shape of his face. "So, my house then? I mean if you want to see 'the thing', you'll have to come over. I'm not
taking it out in public."
I ran my fingers through my hair, picked up my backpack, and pushed the door open. Students were scattered in the hallway. This time as I looked around, Rory right behind me, I wasn't scared. I stepped forward, running into a tall figure that was passing by. I felt Rory come to a sudden halt, almost smashing into me.
"Bridget! I thought I'd missed you." Terrence had on a baby blue shirt that matched his eyes. He looked pleased to see me, as if our short good-bye at homecoming didn't matter. Looking at his face lifted my spirits. I couldn't stop staring.
"Terrence, hi! Sorry, I didn't mean to run into you." Butterflies swarmed my stomach. I smiled, forgetting all about where I was headed.
"Can we talk?" Terrence looked at Rory who was impatiently waiting behind me.
"Yeah, of course," I agreed. I distanced myself from Rory and gave Terrence my full attention.
"Uh, Bridget?" Rory interrupted. "We have stuff to do?" Rory tapped his foot and looked at Terrence with a disapproving expression.
"Later," I replied. I'd been thinking about Terrence all weekend. This was my chance to for redemption. I nudged Rory away and heard him stamp off down the hall. The rude remarks in his head didn't faze me.
"What was that all about? Are you two?" Terrence watched Rory walk briskly out of sight.
"No," I quickly responded. "He's my . . . science tutor." Terrence nodded. His expressions didn't give much away. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. And though that was annoying and strange, it kept me guessing. It was worth the one-on-one face time. I couldn't help but remind myself of the positives. I finally knew what it felt like to be a normal teenage girl.
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