by Eliza Nolan
Her betrayal still stung, but I was too curious about what she could possibly have to say. I hit accept.
"Hello, Julia?" The voice wasn't Samantha's, so I rechecked the display on my phone. It was her home number.
"Yes. Mrs. Klein." Samantha's mom.
"Have you seen Sam?" My stomach tightened at the quiver in her voice.
"No. Why?"
"She's missing. She and her father had a fight last night and she stormed out. She hasn't been back since. No one's seen her at school and no one seems to know where she is."
"I don't know. Did you ask her boyfriend?"
"We can't find him, either." Her voice shook as she stifled a sob. "We think they may have run off together. The fight was about him. We called the police, but all they did was file a report. Lot of good that'll do."
My head worked to process what she was saying. Samantha was wild at times, but she'd never done anything this crazy. "Sorry, Mrs. Klein. I wish I knew more."
"You'll call me if you hear anything from her, won't you?"
"Absolutely." She hung up.
No way would she run away. Or would she? Her relationship with her parents was complicated, but they'd always worked things out in the end. Still, since she started dated Jeremy she'd turned her back on me and moved schools. I wasn't sure.
I hoped she was okay. I also hoped she was with Jeremy, because the alternatives were even worse.
I swallowed down my concern and pulled Samantha's cell up on my phone. Though we weren't hanging out anymore, she'd been my friend since seventh grade. I hit the call button. It rang once and went to voicemail. I left a long rambling message about her mother calling and how worried I was about her, and I asked her to call me.
After I hung up, my phone pinged.
IM ok w/Jeremy on the road. Texted mom. She knows IM ok.
I texted back.
Where ru?
IM FINE!
I stared at the message. Was that all I got? She wouldn't even tell me where she was? Probably worried I'd tell her mom. And she was right. I'd gotten to know her parents over the years, and I liked them. Parents could be hard on you, but hers weren't that bad, as far as parents go.
My phone rang in my hand, making me jump.
"Hey, Clara," I answered.
"Julia. I just wanted to let you know Graham's okay. Libby fell or somethin' in school, and I guess she hurt her ankle pretty bad. Graham had to take her to the emergency room and ended up waiting most of the evening with her. His phone didn't have service in the hospital, so he didn't hear when I called."
Libby again.
This was getting ridiculous. Did he like her? There was no way I could compete. I inspected the palm of my hand where he'd written his locker combination only hours ago. It was gone, of course; I'd spent an hour working with wet clay. Pen ink didn't have a chance. I tried to remember the numbers: thirty, twelve, thirty-two?
"It turns out it was just a sprain," Clara added.
"Oh, that's good," I said, trying to invoke a little concern for Libby. She was, after all, another human being.
"It's such a relief he wasn't blowing us off, though, isn't it?" Clara said. "I mean, I didn't think he would. I knew he had to have a good reason for not showing."
Clara's optimism was slightly obnoxious. I also wished I had some. "Yeah, it's nice to know. Thanks for calling. See you tomorrow."
"Sure. See you."
I traced my thumb over my palm again and sighed. I returned to my book, reading until the words blurred and my eyelids shut.
* * *
The night is so hot and humid, my skin is sticky with sweat.
Starlight peeks through the overhead canopy of branches and leaves, illuminating the swamp. A forest of trees grows out of the still water. The Spanish moss hangs low on the branches like dusty cobwebs, making the place feel ancient and forgotten.
The silence wraps itself around me, suffocating.
A hand grabs one of mine. I turn to see Clara, her eyes wide and serious. She places her index finger on her lips and leads me down a path away from the swamp.
The trail is in rough shape. Occasionally we have to climb over old tree limbs or jump tiny streams of water that cross the path.
We walk for a while until we come into a clearing, and I stop. In the moonlight are two rows of old headstones. It's a graveyard.
"We can't stay here," Clara whispers, and pulls me off to the far side of the clearing. Now on another path, we pick up speed. It's as if Clara's in a hurry to get somewhere. But as the quiet of the night is interrupted by the shuffling of feet behind us, it becomes evident that it isn't where we're going, but who we're running from.
Their pace quickens, and in response, ours does, too. I look back. Several figures in dark cloaks race towards us. Terror takes hold of me and I push myself forward with all my energy, my muscles screaming for release.
"They're coming," I say, turning back to Clara, but she's gone; vanished. I continue to run, following the path as it winds through the trees, panting and pushing on, until finally I can't hear the men behind me and slow. The path opens up to the ruins of a small building made of white stone. The roof is long gone, but the four walls remain intact. I follow the wall around until I come to a doorway, above which an intricate cross is carved into stone. It must have been a church.
Inside, sitting on the overgrown earthen floor, is the woman who looks like a younger version of my mother - the one who'd comforted me before.
"Mom?"
She smiles, shaking her head. "I'm Aydan."
"Ay…what?"
"Aydan."
"You look like my mother."
"I suppose that makes sense. We are kin after all."
* * *
I sat up in bed and hugged my knees, staring blankly out my window into the night. Clara and Graham had now each starred in one of my strange dreams.
The new kids.
Just them.
I didn't have a clue who any of the other people were. Only that this Aydan woman claimed to be related to my mother.
I fell back onto my pillow and wiped my eyes with my hands. Maybe I should ask Dad to make an appointment for me to see someone; these dreams were becoming so intense, and so real, I was getting seriously freaked out.
Of course, more than anything, I wanted to talk to Samantha. I could say anything to her, and I knew she'd listen. Or at least that's how it used to be. I missed her so much.
Chapter Six
"We should catch a movie Friday," Clara shouted over the other voices in the lunchroom. Her cheeks turned pink as she looked at me, then glanced at Nate.
"Sure," Nate said. His cheeks blushed, too, and his answer made Clara's face light up.
They both looked at me with eager smiles. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to bow out, so I said, "I have a lot of homework." Also, if Friday turned into a date for them, I did not want to end up the third-wheel. No thanks.
"Of course you're coming." Clara waved her hand. "We want you to come."
I smiled. It was a good thing Nate didn't talk much, because Clara had already started talking for both of them.
"Sure," Nate added.
"We'll see if Graham can come, too." Clara beamed. "Catching up on homework is what Sunday nights are for."
"Are you sure Graham will want to go if I'm there?" Nate asked, slouching back in his chair. "He's always giving me the stink eye."
Clara emphatically shook her head. "It's not that he doesn't like you, it's that he has a hard time trusting new people. He had problems with some of our 'friends' in Charleston." I noticed Clara's use of air quotes when she said the word "friends." I filed it away under things to ask about later. "He'll warm up to you. Come on, it'll be great." She stuck her lower lip out in a pout.
Nate looked a little hesitant, but nodded meekly, which threw Clara's grin back into high gear.
"There's Graham," Clara said, looking behind me.
I peered over my shoulder. Graham was acros
s the lunchroom with, of course, Libby attached to him - literally. He held her up as she limped over to her friends' table. Graham carefully eased her into one of the chairs.
I looked down at my hands on the tabletop. Ugh, she was using her injury as an excuse to hang all over him. At least I hoped that was it. Maybe he actually did like being that close to her. Either way, it totally sucked.
Clara's smile faded and her eyes widened. "I don't believe it. Did you guys see that?"
"Yeah," I said, "Libby's all over Graham."
"I guess that's it; they're together," Nate said, frowning at me.
Crap, did the whole world know I liked Graham? I bit my lip and sank into my chair. I should've just let it go already. Social order told me this would happen. Homecoming Queen Libby gets to date whoever she wants, and that was obviously Graham.
"That's not what I'm talking about," Clara said, interrupting my brooding. "I mean, did y'all see how Libby just switched the leg she was limping on halfway through the lunchroom?"
"Are you sure?" I stood up to get a better look, but she was already sitting at the table surrounded by her friends.
"Can I sit here?" I jumped at the sound of a voice close to my ear, and turned to see Graham standing right next to me.
Oh-my-God. What was he doing over here with us? I was getting whiplash from his game of social ping-pong. He stood so close I could feel his body heat. His eyes pulled me in and my heart fluttered; my brain turned to mush. Wait, had he just asked me something? "No. I mean yeah." I motioned for him to take a seat and lowered myself back down.
"Thanks," he said as he sat. "Sorry about yesterday, Julia. I had to take Libby to the ER."
"Clara told me," I said.
Clara leaned towards us, her eyebrows pinched together. "Graham, I don't think Libby really hurt her foot."
Graham's head pulled back slightly. "What?"
"Just now, as she was limping over to the table," Clara said, "she switched from favoring her right foot to favoring her left."
"Sounds like your eyes are playing tricks on you." Graham frowned.
"I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. Honestly, I saw her switch sides."
Graham's nostrils flared. Uh-oh, family argument time. I slid back in my seat and waited for Graham to speak. "Clara, why would anyone do that? That's ridiculous."
"It's not ridiculous, it's true. There's something not right about that girl," Clara said, glancing back at Libby's table.
Graham's jaw tensed and he lowered his voice. "Are you sure you aren't just fishing for reasons not to like my new friends?"
Interesting, the friends issue again.
He turned to me. "Sorry about yesterday, Julia. I hope we can try it again. See you in ceramics."
I nodded and forced a smile. He got up and marched out of the lunchroom.
Why would Graham take Libby's side - when he'd only known her for a few days - over his sister's? Sure, what Clara accused Libby of was crazy, but that didn't mean it wasn't true.
* * *
When I got to ceramics, Graham was already there sitting stiffly at one of the worktables. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to go sit with him or not considering how weird things were at lunch, but he stood up and pulled out the chair next to him like some character out of one of Dad's old movies.
"Hey," I said.
"Hi." He motioned for me to have a seat. Maybe he'd picked up his old-fashioned manners while living in Charleston. I knew how to pull out my own chair, but there was something sweet about having a guy do stuff for you.
I sat down and he took his seat once more, waiting for me to say something. What did he want me to say? I couldn't just blurt out "Why don't you believe your sister about Libby?" could I?
The unasked question hung in the air between us, screaming for attention.
Finally, Graham broke the silence. "I'm sorry about lunch. And for Clara. I don't know why she'd even say that about Libby."
"Your sister sounded sure of what she saw." I frowned. "I mean, Clara doesn't seem like the type to just make stuff up."
Graham sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Yeah, but Libby wouldn't fake an injury. I mean, she's not like that."
My eyes fell to the floor. "I know you and Libby are close."
He leaned forward and put his hand under my chin, easing my face back up to meet his gaze. "Libby and I aren't that close. She's a friend, sure. We've got some of the same classes and are working on a project together, but I've only known her a few days."
I blushed at his touch, and my insides warmed. "Yeah, but the two of you are together all the time."
"Not on purpose. I mean, she's nice and all, but I just run into her a lot." He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.
I had to smile. "So if your sister is right about Libby, you're being stalked by the most popular girl in school."
"Why, because I run into her a lot?"
"No. Because she 'runs' into you a lot," I added air quotes, "and because she 'hurts' her foot in order to hang out with you."
"Why would she be stalking me? I didn't think I was even her type," Graham said, tilting his head sideways. He seemed genuinely perplexed.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He really didn't know Libby was after him? Maybe I wasn't the most clueless person out there when it came to the opposite sex. Compared to Graham, right now I looked pretty savvy.
The bell rang for class to start and Mr. Smith brought in a DVD, announcing that we'd be watching a movie on the Japanese Raku firing process.
As the lights went out, Graham's close proximity hit me. I forced my eyes and mind to focus on the TV in the front of the classroom, but with our chairs so close, my efforts were pushed to the max.
I touched my own face where his hand had been only moments before. There'd been no pinpricks this time. Warmth, yes, but no weird prickling sensation like the first time we shook hands, or like the time by his locker when he wrote his combination on my palm. Maybe I'd just imagined the odd sensation before. Maybe I was acclimating to his touch.
I stole a glance at Graham. He had his arms folded on the table and rested his chin on them while he watched the movie, but, as if he could feel my gaze, he looked over. When his eyes met mine they lit up, and he smiled before returning his attention to the video. I followed his example.
When class ended, and the lights came on, Graham was looking at me. "We should hang out after school today."
"Sure." I tried to control my mouth as it wound itself into permagrin mode. "I'll meet you guys at The Mark." I grabbed my bag and stood up, he fell into step next to me and we made our way to the door.
"Who else is coming?" Graham asked.
"Well, I assumed we'd ask Clara and Nate."
"Sure." He nodded. "I'll ask 'em after school."
He walked me to my new locker.
"I can't believe they gave you another locker after what you did to your old one." Graham smirked.
I stuck my tongue out at him. Juvenile, but he was teasing me.
To be fair, I was still getting my head around what happened. The lock had to be cheap plastic or something, but I'd examined it over and over. Cheap or not, it was made of metal. Still, even if I had managed to somehow break a metal lock with my hands - seriously messed up - I'd done nothing like that since. I appeared to be the same weakling I'd been my whole life.
"See you soon," Graham said.
I waved.
By the time I finished grabbing what I needed from my locker the halls were empty again. Class had started. I slammed my locker shut and as I made my way to the exit, a door clicked opened and footsteps echoed down the hallway. Libby was almost running in my direction, and she was definitely not limping.
Damn, Clara was right.
I smirked. "You sure heal quickly," I said as she approached.
As she got closer, I saw the vacant look on her face and my smirk fell. Her eyes were glazed over. Fear crept through me. What the crap was going on with her?
She stepped in close and grabbed my arm. "They're coming for you," she whispered.
The hell? I flinched and jerked my arm away. Was this some sort of sick joke? Who was coming after me? The volleyball team? I backed away.
Libby continued to stare at me, but didn't move to follow. I turned and trotted towards the exit. What the crap? Libby was a bitch, but she'd never threatened me before. And what was with her scary-eyes thing? It wasn't like Libby at all.
What kind of drugs was she on? Seriously.
I couldn't get to the exit fast enough. Each step made me feel a little bit better. I was just being paranoid; she didn't really look that freaked out. I just needed to get away from Libby. She'd taken up enough of my time.
When I opened the front door and stepped outside, the thoughts of Libby melted away. The sun beat down and wrapped its warmth around me. I stopped for a moment to take it all in. The leaves hadn't turned yet, though they would soon enough. A September day like this was rare in Minneapolis, and probably one of our last summery days. I took off my hoodie and tied it around my waist as I headed for The Mark.
* * *
The bell on the door jingled, and I looked up from my homework. Graham walked in. Alone.
"Hey, Julia." His radiant smile made him look even more amazing than normal.
"What are you so happy about?" I asked.
His grin widened. "It's a beautiful day. Let's do something outside."
"Sure." I'd been thinking the same thing. "Minnehaha Falls isn't too far, we could go wander around there," I suggested.
"I'll get the check." Before I could stop him, he paid the waitress for my coffee. I didn't have much money saved since I was only allowed to work during the summer, so I let him help me out - just this once.
When he came back, I finally had a chance to ask, "What happened to Clara and Nate?"
"They had too much homework." He smirked.
"Did you even invite them?" I asked, heading for the door.
"I asked them how to get here; they could've invited themselves along." His cheeks hinted red and his eyes rested on me.