by Eliza Nolan
Taking a step closer, a twig snaps under my foot.
The girl turns to face me.
"Clara?"
Chapter Seven
Clara and I wove our way down the crowded hall towards English class.
"…and then we arrived at this graveyard," I said. It was such a relief to share the dream with her. After Dad putting my mind to rest about the heat thing, I decided I was being a bit paranoid about things. Surely the dreams were nothing more than my silly subconscious having Mom issues or whatever. Harmless. "And it turned out these guys in hooded cloaks were chasing us," I continued.
I waited for Clara to laugh, so that we could joke about it, the way Samantha and I would have. Instead, Clara's pace slowed and her face went pale. She leaned against the wall and slowly slid down until she hit the ground, and curled up, hugging her knees.
"Clara, are you okay?" I said, crouching down next to her.
"It's just not possible." Her wide eyes searched my face. "Why are you having dreams of running through the Charleston swamps with me? What did Graham tell you?"
"I didn't say we were in Charleston. I don't know where the swamp was." I pushed my hair back from my face.
"Julia, this isn't funny. Graham told you why we really left Charleston, didn't he? How else could you know what happened?" She stared at the empty space in front of her.
"He started to say something the other day, but stopped himself. He said he couldn't tell me yet, because he hadn't finished processing things. Listen, neither of you have to tell me anything, but I'm seriously getting worried about what happened to you guys in Charleston."
Clara frowned. "He really didn't tell you anything?"
I quickly ran through everything I'd discussed with Graham about his past. "I did see his phoenix tattoo and I asked him about it."
"Then, you know about the phoenixes?" she asked.
"Mythical birds that live for one hundred years and then die and are reborn on their funeral pyre," I said, retelling what Graham had told me. "But what does that have to do with my dream of the two of us being chased?"
"It has to be a fluke then," she said, ignoring my question. "There's just no way you could've known." But she wasn't looking at me. She was staring back at the ground and biting her lip.
I considered telling her about the dream I'd had last night, the one where I found her tied to a tree alone in the forest. But somehow I wanted her to be right. I wanted it to be a fluke, too. The alternative was just too bizarre. Besides, I'd been having weird dreams before I met Clara.
Strange, though, that my dreams included Clara and swamps from where she used to live. Why was I dreaming about them? And why did my dream scare Clara so much?
* * *
When I entered the cafeteria, my eyes instinctively went over to where Samantha and I used to sit. I needed someone to talk to. Someone who could help me process all the crap that was happening. It almost made me want to forgive and forget. No questions asked. I missed her.
Of course, she was also a part of said crap. Still, whatever happened between us, I worried. She was still gone, and I hadn't heard from Samantha since that first night. But she was strong, the toughest chick I knew. She'd hold her own, and if she couldn't, Jeremy would have her back. I hoped.
I headed over to join Clara and the others. Even though Graham sat on my side of the table, I was immediately reminded of the painful indifference he'd treated me with the day before. Not only was he seated a safe two chairs away, but he struck up a conversation with Nate who, until that second, I was pretty sure Graham didn't like at all.
"So, what've you got going on this weekend, Nate?"
Nate blinked, clearly amazed Graham was talking to him, too. "We're going to a movie tonight."
"What movie?" Graham asked.
"Ahem." Clara leaned in to the conversation. "You know. You're going, too. We made plans a few days ago. I asked if you wanted to come out with us and you said 'Yeah, I'm in.' Remember?"
Evidently, Clara hadn't gotten the memo yet that Graham was moving on.
His forehead crinkled, and he ran his hand through his hair. "Oh. Sorry, I forgot. Libby and I are getting together after school today. Can I take a rain check?" He looked at each of us in turn, his eyes finally landing on me.
Libby. Again. My shoulders slumped and what remained of my self-esteem slipped away.
And then…
I sorta…
lost it.
"Why even bother? Just go see the movie with Libby, or Caroline, or whoever your flavor of the day is." I scraped my chair back and stormed off to the bathroom. I slammed open one of the stall doors and made it inside as my anger switched to humiliation and hurt, and I couldn't stop the tears. Damn it.
I leaned against the wall of the stall, hugging myself. God, how embarrassing. Why had I acted like that? Usually I excelled at hiding my feelings. But this hurt. Bad. All this over a guy I'd just met. And he wasn't even meant for me, anyone could see that.
But the pain was overwhelming. So why did this hurt so much?
After a few minutes, someone came in. "Julia?" It sounded like Clara.
I tried to wipe my face off as much as I could with my sleeve. I was being such a dork, crying over my new friend's brother. "Clara?" I said.
"Yeah, it's me. Hey, are you okay in there?" she asked through the door.
"Yeah. Mostly I'm just embarrassed." I opened the door, smiling at her through my tear stained face.
She put her arm around my shoulder. "Let me tell you something about my brother. I love him, but for as good a guy as he is, Graham doesn't know a thing about reading signals and all that." She waved her hand and smiled. "He just told me he thought you didn't like him." She shook her head at how ridiculous it sounded. "He was going on, something about you rushing off the other day after y'all went to the park." She giggled. "As if."
Wait, what? I rushed off after…? Oh. I played back the moment. "When Graham dropped me at home, I guess I did rush off, but only because Dad was going to fillet me for not calling him to let him know where I was…Oh." Slapped face with palm. "I never told him I was in trouble with my dad, I just ran out." I guess if someone ran off with barely a wave after hanging out with me, I'd assume it went badly, too.
Clara clucked her tongue. "Someone has got to teach y'all some communication skills if you're ever going to make it." She patted my back. "So, I guess my egg-headed brother is going to stand us up to do a science project with that bimbo."
"Science project?" I asked.
"Yeah. Graham has a biology project with Libby, remember? What, did you think they were going out? Like on a date?"
"Yeah," I admitted.
Clara laughed. "Like I said, y'all need to learn some communication. What do you say we have a girls' night out tonight, you and me?"
"What about Nate?"
"Nate will wait until Saturday. Besides, I can't go out on a date when my best friend needs me. Come on, we'll take the rest of the day off and start early - call it a mental-health day."
I smiled and hugged her. It felt so good to know I wasn't alone. I had new friends, and even a new best friend.
She moved towards the door, and I grabbed her arm to stop her. "Is Graham out there? I don't want him to see me like this." I wiped at my cheeks.
"I'll check." She stepped out.
I went to the mirror to survey the damage. My eyes were bloodshot and puffy, my makeup smeared. I washed off my face, wet a paper towel with cold water, and pressed it to my eyes. It soothed, but when I pulled the towel away, my red, puffy face stared back at me. Crap. There was only one thing to do, my exit would have to be swift and seamless. I was just going to have to get out of here as fast as I could.
Clara returned. "He sure is worried, Julia. Wouldn't leave until I told him we were spending the evening together and he was not invited. I had to literally push him down the hall." Clara's voice was animated. I had a hard time imagining Graham could get that worked up about me. And I didn
't put it past Clara to embellish the truth. Still, it was a nice thought.
We went to our lockers and got our things. "How are we going to get you out of here?" I asked. "Seniors can leave during lunch, but you're a junior. Security won't let you out."
"You leave that to me." Clara smirked. "Just wait for me on the corner by the parking lot." She headed off through the crowded lunchroom.
Unfortunately, I had to pass through the cafeteria in order to get to the exit. I tried not to look over at our table, but I couldn't help it. Graham sat there watching me. I pulled my hair down around my face and turned away.
I flashed my school badge and walked through security, making my way to the parking lot.
A few minutes later, Clara scurried down the sidewalk, her jacket tied around her waist. It was fifty degrees out. I zipped up my jacket. Just looking at her made me shiver.
"How'd you get out?" I asked.
"Let's get in the car, it's freezing out here," she said, hugging herself and shivering.
"You could put your coat on. That might help."
She glanced back to the front door. "Not yet. I don't want the guards to see." She pulled me along as she trotted into the parking lot.
"What'd you do?" I skipped after her.
"I just told them the one thing that was sure to make them so squeamish they'd have to let me go." She giggled. "The security guards are all men, right? So, I told them I had a feminine leakage incident and need to go home to change my pants." She grinned broadly.
"No, you didn't," I said as we both laughed our way through the parking lot.
"Sometimes being a girl comes in handy." She stopped in front of the black car Graham normally drove, producing the keys from her pocket.
"He gave you the car?"
"Graham made me take it. I told him we were doing a girls' night out. He didn't want us taking the bus."
"You two are so protective of each other," I said climbing into the car.
Clara pulled the door closed and turned on the car, going straight for the seat-warmer switch. She half shivered and half laughed. "What do you mean me protective of him? Graham can take care of himself."
"What about the note you wrote me? You said he'd been through a lot. And then later you said he was 'fragile.' And you won't talk to me about the dream, because you said it's his story to tell."
"Dream?" As soon as she asked, her smile froze and then faltered.
I shook my head. "Graham wasn't even in that dream, and yet you told me he was the one who had to tell me about what happened in Charleston. I've thought about it, Clara, and I don't know where the images of the swamp came from. The only time I've ever seen one is in the movies. I didn't know there were swamps in Charleston until today when you told me.
"So why am I dreaming about a place I've never seen or heard of? And why does it scare you?" My voice was high, my pulse racing. Maybe Dad hadn't put my mind to rest after all. Clearly, I was still totally freaked about the dream thing.
Clara sighed and chewed her lip. "I don't know why you're having the dreams. That's part of what frightens me. You're right, though, you deserve to know why they scare me."
She took a moment, her eyes searching the distance. "It has to do with why we left Charleston." She grimaced.
"Graham and I used to get along so well, but last year things changed. He stayed out all night with friends and wouldn't tell Dad or me where he went, or anything." She shifted in her seat, sitting on her hands.
"I was worried, so I borrowed Dad's car one afternoon and followed them. They drove out into the country, finally turning down this dirt road that wasn't much more than two paths littered with mammoth potholes." She shrugged. "They were in an SUV, so it was nothing for them. But Dad's car woulda gotten stuck. And anyways, I thought it must just be a driveway, so I pulled off to the side and followed on foot."
She wrapped her arms around herself in a hug.
I prodded her on. "Where did it lead?"
"The road twisted around under a canopy of oaks. I didn't see a single soul and almost turned back several times, but kept thinking I'd see their car around the next turn. It was dark when I finally found their SUV abandoned on the side of the road."
She chewed the inside of her cheek. "A path nearby led me through the trees to a small graveyard just like the one you described in your dream. I continued on the path back into the woods on the other side of the clearing. I came out on the swamp where a forest of cypress trees grew out of the water."
"The swamp in my dreams?" I asked. The hair rose on the back of my neck.
She nodded. "The path ended and there was nowhere to go. I'd just about given up when I spotted a rowboat making its way across the water toward me. I debated calling out to see if Graham was with them, but worried that if he wasn't, I'd be alerting a boatful of strangers to my whereabouts. So I headed back to the SUV to wait for him."
I ground my teeth together, already knowing what came next in her story.
She swallowed hard. "I walked quickly at first, but I could hear their voices coming from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder. Several guys raced down the path towards me. They all wore black cloaks, just like the people in your dream. I turned to run, but I must've fallen and hit my head because I blacked out."
I put my hand on her arm. "Oh, God."
She took a deep, shaky breath. "When I woke, it was light and I was alone, lying on the ground with my hands tied behind my back at the base of a tree. My head hurt and I could hardly move. I lay there fading in and out of consciousness."
I gripped the edge of the car seat. I hadn't told her anything about my dream of her tied to the base of a tree, yet here she was recounting it to me.
She continued. "Graham was the one who finally found me. Twenty-six hours passed before he did. They took me to the hospital, of course. I had a concussion and suffered from exhaustion, dehydration, and shock. I had bruises and rope burn on my wrists, but was otherwise unharmed, so they released me."
Clara stared long out the windshield at the minivan parked across from us. I thought she was done talking, but then she went on. "The next day, Graham came home from school with a fat lip. He started being secretive all over again. I begged him to tell me what was going on. I told him if he didn't, I'd follow him again and who knows what would happen to me the next time. Finally, he relented and told Dad and me he thought his friends were the ones who tied me to the tree. He said he tried to leave their group after that, but they beat him up to silence him.
"That was the night we decided to move to Minneapolis to live with Mom. We were on the plane the next day." She frowned.
My mouth hung open. One dream about Clara in the swamps could've been a coincidence. But I'd had two dreams, and they were about actual events Clara had experienced. No wonder she was so upset when I told her about one of them.
But why was I even dreaming this stuff in the first place? How could I possibly have known all the details? I pulled on a lock of my hair.
Crap, I'd somehow worried my way back to the magic superhero thing. "What were they doing out there in the swamp?" I asked.
"I don't know." She pulled her hands into her lap, looking at them as if they would tell her.
"Aren't you curious?"
"No," she replied, then added, "Maybe a little, but Graham blames himself for what happened to me. He has a lot of guilt about it and I see how it weighs on him. I didn't want him to feel worse, so I haven't brought it up. We haven't talked about any of it since the night he told Dad and me." She gripped the steering wheel as if she could somehow brace herself for what had already happened.
"Don't you want to know why he thinks it was his 'friends' who tied you up?"
"Maybe one day he'll tell me more, but we're both still trying to recover. It's hard for me to talk about it, even with you." Clara's voice shook. "In fact, I haven't told anyone that story since the day they found me, when I had to tell the police." Her eyes pooled with tears.
I shouldn
't have pushed her. How selfish could I be? I put my arm around her. "I'm sorry, Clara. If I'd known, I would never have asked you to relive that." I couldn't imagine going through what she had. "I'm so sorry," I said again.
Clara sniffled. "Julia, if it's not too much to ask, would you mind not telling Graham about your dreams? I mean, considering how much he blames himself for what happened and all, I think it would really mess him up."
It seemed odd to me that a dream of mine could hurt Graham, but I couldn't argue with how much it had already hurt Clara, and if it would make her feel better, I was okay with it. "Fine, I won't tell him. I promise."
* * *
Dad went to bed shortly after I got home from girls' night, and I was curled up on my bed reading when my phone pinged. It was a text from Clara.
What's your email?
I chuckled. What was the need for my email address when she could just text me? I sent it anyway.
Within a few minutes my phone chimed an email alert. I opened the app and the unread email. It was from Graham.
Julia,
I can't describe how stupid I feel about misunderstanding your actions the other day after the park. I should've just asked what was going on.
I understand if you're angry with me for skipping out on our plans. I don't want to go through a whole weekend without apologizing, and wondered if I could make it up to you Saturday or Sunday.
Also, could you send me your phone number? My sister won't give it to me without your permission, and I would rather hear your voice than go through email.
Hope to hear from you soon.
~Graham
Graham emailed me! I did my happy dance, which was less actual dance and more alternating between smiling and sighing contently as I twirled my hair through my fingers.
I wanted to email him back right away but wondered if there were rules for that sort of thing. Was I supposed to wait a day before I responded? Was I supposed to ignore the first email? But I needed to email Graham in time to set up something for tomorrow, because Saturday night would be so perfect. Screw the rules. I hit reply.