The bell rang just as he opened the door. Everyone in the class looked his way and he wanted to turn around and head for the bathroom, find a secluded stall, and slow his pulse. He felt dizzy. He’d already received dozens of condolences, all of them nice gestures, but he just wanted to get on with his life. Worse were the stares and now, standing in the doorway, he was getting plenty of them.
He stepped inside. Halfway to the only open desk, he froze. When he noticed who sat in the neighboring desk, he could hear the bathroom calling to him once more.
Alyssa caught his eyes and looked away quickly, perhaps pretending she hadn’t seen him, perhaps letting him know she didn’t want to see him.
He made his way to the desk in slow motion and set his bag down. On the other side of Alyssa, someone snickered. Art leaned back and raised his eyebrows. “This is going to be fun to watch.”
Justin and Alyssa told him to shut up in unison.
The teacher, Mr. Murray, took attendance and shuffled through some papers on his desk, as if trying to find something. Rumor had it the man was a terrible alcoholic and had come close to losing his job on more than one occasion. He excused himself, explaining he needed to grab something from the supply room.
The class erupted when he was gone, cracking jokes, snorting with laughter. Everyone seemed in on it save for Justin and Alyssa.
“So,” Art said, dragging his desk closer to them. “How was everyone’s summer? Anything interesting happen?”
Alyssa stared at her notebook, doodling some design. “Probably not to you. I’m guessing you’re still a virgin.”
“What’s the matter? You jealous I have three less STD’s than you?”
“Lay off,” Justin said. “That’s rude.”
Alyssa finally stopped doodling and looked up. “You don’t get to stick up for me. I can take care of myself in case you didn’t realize.”
“I realize just fine.” He unzipped his bag and unloaded his books and pencil, slamming them down on the desk. “Far be it from me to tell him off. Next time someone wants to talk shit about you, I’ll let them. Maybe even join in.”
“You’re so charming.” She rolled her eyes and went back to doodling.
“More charming than that asshole you’re dating,” Justin said.
Alyssa dropped her pencil, opened her mouth to respond just as Tom Parkins, who sat in front of Justin, turned around. “Hey, Wright. You been working out or something?” He grabbed Justin’s biceps, twice the size they’d been in June, and pretended his fingers burned. He pulled them away, blew on them.
A couple girls farther up in the class turned toward their conversation and eyed Justin. He’d been checked out here and there before this semester but today alone he’d shattered all his previous records. He wished he could’ve enjoyed the attention without being on the verge of a panic attack.
“Maybe a little,” he said. “I’d say you got me beat in that department.”
Tom flexed and the girls drew their attention to his much larger muscles. He was quarterback of the football team, the Lynnwood Sabers’ brightest star. The guy should’ve had a chip on his shoulder but he treated everyone equally, including nerds and whatever Justin was classified as.
Alyssa smirked and snorted, about to send another jab Justin’s way, when Tom cut her off.
“Man, I heard about your dad. Meant to stop by your place, but I worked a shit ton this summer. Got so busy, you know? He was a good guy, didn’t deserve to get sick like that.”
Justin’s throat swelled and his eyes grew misty.
You will not cry in class. You will not sob in front of everyone.
He nodded, unable to look away from his desk, as if there was something interesting written there. “Thanks, Tom. That’s nice of you to say.”
Uncomfortable with the silence that followed, Tom turned away.
Art leaned his arm behind Alyssa and patted Justin on the shoulder. He was more grateful for his friend in that moment than he’d ever realized. Even if he was an asshole.
When Justin finally slowed his breathing, when he was certain his eyes were no longer watering, he looked up and caught Alyssa staring, not in anger or annoyance this time but in sadness.
Good, he thought. Let her be sad. She left you at your worst.
But he couldn’t stay mad at her, no matter how pathetic it seemed.
He sighed. It was going to be a long year.
He looked to the front of the room, willing Mr. Murray to finish sneaking shots of whiskey and get the hell back to class, when he spotted something staring at him from the far desk in the right corner. It was pale and deformed and it made his skin tingle with fear. He thought it was a ghost at first. Then it was something else entirely, so horrible, so vile, his mind couldn’t comprehend what it was seeing.
He gripped his pencil, nearly snapping it in half.
Just as fast as it appeared, the vision or day dream passed, and he saw there was no monster sitting in the classroom, but instead a girl who looked vaguely familiar, perhaps a new student.
But the longer he looked the more he started to recognize her. The last time he’d seen her, she was tan and prissy, thought she was the smartest girl on the planet. Now she looked faint and sickly, wore all black as if she’d just came from a rave.
What the hell had happened to Vickie Bronson?
She smiled at him, her mouth working a wad of bubble gum, as if she was in on some hidden joke.
He swallowed, his throat swelling once more, albeit for a different reason this time. Quite frankly, the girl’s new look gave him the creeps.
A few moments later, Mr. Murray stumbled into the classroom. The scent of cheap alcohol permeated through the air. He stood behind the desk and began telling them about formulas and angles, his voice slurring for much of the lesson.
Every so often Vickie would turn and look at Justin.
And each time he’d wince at her pale face.
A long year indeed.
Chapter Five
The next night, while a strong wind blew outside her window, Vickie Bronson tossed and turned, whimpering every so often at the nightmare that had taken hold of her. In the dream her parents were giants, stomping through Lynnwood like Godzilla and Gamera. Her father breathed fire, incinerating the hospital and police station, while her mother released electric blue lasers from her eyes, taking out pedestrians with ease. All around her Vickie heard screaming, pleas for help that went unanswered.
She ran through the streets, trying to find a hiding place, but each time she came to a house or car, her parents destroyed them, leaving her out in the open again.
She tripped over her own feet. She’d never been as coordinated as Veronica, had always been second best in both academia and the world of sports. She tumbled to the concrete, landed in a puddle of what looked to be human innards. She could hear thunderous crashes every so often, her parents catching up to her.
She tried to crawl away, but the blood was too slippery. A few feet to her left, a man with no eyes or jaw reached toward her, silently begging for mercy. Before Vickie could help him, his form turned to ash before her eyes, another one of her mother’s lasers wrecking his body in seconds.
She turned around to see her parents standing just above her, skyscrapers made of flesh and disappointment. They glared at her, as they always did, with that look that said you will never be good enough.
She nodded, crying now. Yes I will. Her mouth was open but no audible words came out. Stupid dream. She pinched herself, but only felt pain.
Her parents laughed and roared like dinosaurs. Her mother pointed toward the nearest telephone pole and her father nodded, reached out, and knocked it down with a hand the size of a minivan. The wooden pole toppled down, pinning Vickie to the ground. She tried to breathe, tried to move, but to no avail. Her chest was compressed with an unfathomable weight. It was the same weight she felt each and every day while she tried to make her parents finally accept her. It had been pointless, she realize
d in that moment. The weight would never be lifted. In the end, all her studying, all her precious little note cards and late nights of doing homework instead of kissing boys, had been for nothing.
No, not for nothing.
She eyed her gigantic parents but they were too busy stomping on victims like ants. The voice hadn’t come from them. She looked around but couldn’t see the source.
You are more important than you realize, Vickie. You just need to open your eyes and accept your new role.
She opened her mouth, the words still silent. My new role?
Wake up, Vickie. Wake up and see for yourself.
Something slimy touched her legs. It felt like a snake along her calves and thighs, but she didn’t see anything other than the dead man and the puddle of his blood. The sensation climbed her body until, caught in a silent scream, she finally woke.
She wiped away sweat and shivered. Her clothes were soaked through. Normally, she slept in sweatpants and a t-shirt but tonight she wore nothing but her panties and tank top, both black. She’d picked them up earlier that day on a shopping spree. Half of her closet was now replaced with her new fall fashion. The darker, the better.
When she finally caught her breath, her pulse immediately started to pound again when she realized she wasn’t in her bed. In fact, she wasn’t lying but standing. She nearly screamed when she saw the old Lynnwood high school no more than twenty feet ahead of her.
How the hell had she gotten there? When had she started sleepwalking?
She felt exposed, covered herself with prickly arms, as if someone were watching.
It didn’t matter how she’d gotten there. What mattered was that she got home before some bum caught her out here in her underwear. She turned to leave.
And froze when she heard the voice.
Don’t go.
It sounded familiar. The voice from her nightmare, she realized.
Her skin began to tingle, but it wasn’t from the cold and it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Her eyes grew heavy and she could’ve sworn she was smiling now, her fear suddenly gone. She’d only been drunk—buzzed was closer to the truth—a handful of times, stealing drinks here and there at friends’ houses, and she likened that sensation to this.
They don’t care about you. They never have.
“Yes,” she said. “I know. I’ve always known.”
She found herself stepping closer to the school, as if being pulled toward the entrance. The rational part of her mind screamed a warning but the sound was faint, lost in the blowing branches and crashing waves.
School’s in session, Vickie, and you are our first new student of the semester. You are our valedictorian, our prodigy. We would never look down on you. We need you.
She nodded. It felt good to be needed. “Who are you?”
Your new best friend.
She was inches away from the front doors. Most of the windows had been shattered. The only remaining pane had a crude drawing of a vagina. Oddly enough, she was not surprised when the doors opened, sending a shrill creak into the night, not unlike the screams from her dream.
Come on in, Vickie. You don’t want to be late, do you?
She shook her head.
Then it was as if the breeze pushed her inside. Among the shadows, the tingling grew to a crescendo. The world spun around her much too fast, like a roller coaster, but she didn’t feel sick. Quite the opposite. She felt turned on, like she might have an orgasm at any moment, another rarity. He parents made her feel shameful toward sex, made her feel dirty about touching her own body.
Ahead, near the main stairwell, a figure beckoned her. If there was any sane part of her left, it died in that moment as she followed the shadow, past the classrooms and further still. The temperature plummeted, as if they were deep underground.
Eventually, she caught up to the figure. It observed her, moved closer, embraced her, whispered secrets into her ears. The tingling grew stronger. She remembered that past Friday, what had truly happened on her jog. It told her what needed to be done, told her all about their new class of students. Recruitment, the figure whispered, had officially begun.
From behind, the front doors gently closed.
Chapter Six
“Is he a good kisser?” Abby said. She sipped from a latte made with fake sugar and skim milk. As if she needed to watch her figure. The girl was a double zero and probably still fit in her middle school clothes.
“I guess so,” Alyssa said. She sipped from her own beverage, an Americano with vanilla syrup and an extra shot of espresso. It was also her father’s favorite drink, perhaps the only thing they had in common.
“You guess so? Honey, it’s a yes or no question.”
Alyssa sighed and looked around the Coffee Company. It was the place to go if you weren’t old enough to drink. She saw several familiar faces that were in her classes.
As silly as it may have seemed, she imagined Justin walking through the front doors and locking eyes with her, here to win her back. Then the vision morphed and it was Busty standing before her, his dark eyes and pale skin doing things to her she couldn’t quite explain, turned on and a little scared too.
“He better be a good kisser,” Maggie said, her curly hair bouncing as she giggled. “Considering how much time you guys have been spending together.”
“I’ve got it,” Rebecca said. She was the tallest of their group, towering over each of them by at least a half foot. She was star of the girls’ basketball team, intimidating until you got to know her and even then, she could make you squirm if you pissed her off.
“You’ve got what?” Alyssa said.
“You can’t quite figure out if he’s good because it’s hard to kiss when your face is in the pillow.”
“Becca!” Abby smacked the girl and pretended to be shocked, as if she hadn’t been with plenty of guys in the last year alone.
“The truth is,” Alyssa said, “we haven’t done it yet.”
“I call bullshit,” Maggie said, snorting with laughter. Alyssa had never seen the girl without a smirk on her face. She supposed she never would unless hell froze over.
“It’s true.” Alyssa finished her drink, the straw making gurgling noises. “He wants to take it slow.”
“Maybe you ought to go back to Justin,” Abby said. “He seems like a no-brainer. A good guy, cute, but not in a show-off way. Keeps to himself and from what you told me, he was the best sex you’ve ever had.”
The only sex I’ve ever had. She thought for a moment about their nights together, however brief, how he’d made sure she was comfortable, how she caught him staring while her eyes were closed. She was too beautiful not to look at, he would say.
And then you went and dumped his ass just when things were getting good. Not to mention you never even gave him a reason.
Her phone buzzed on the table for what could have been the third or fourth time in the last half hour. She ignored it as she had the other times.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Rebecca said. “Could be your boy toy. Maybe he’s finally ready to give it to you.”
“It’s my dad.”
“Making sure you’re okay?” Abby mocked. While it was meant to be a harmless jab, it came across as depressing. Her own father had run out the year before, shacking up with a girl not much older than his own daughter.
“He wants me home for supper.”
“But it’s Saturday night,” Maggie said.
“He doesn’t seem to get that concept. He’s going to flip when I tell him I’m seeing Busty later. He’s been on my back for spending too much time with him.”
Alyssa read through the texts again.
Don’t forget about tonight. Your mother’s making your favorite. Beef stew.
Honey. It’s almost five. We eat in an hour. Don’t be late.
Come home soon please.
Alyssa? Are you okay?
She thought of all the responses she could make.
Yes, I’m fine. Believe it or not, I�
��m just hanging out with my friends. I haven’t been raped or hurt or kidnapped. If you haven’t noticed, I’m not Jeremy. I’m still here and you’ve got to give me some space or I’m going to suffocate.
“Maybe he’s right,” Abby said.
“About what?” Alyssa watched her phone buzz again and threw it into her purse. It vibrated for much longer this time. Her father had resorted to calling.
“This is the first time we’ve hung out in how long? A month or more? And now that you’re here, it’s like you’re not really here. Ever since you started seeing him, you’ve been… different.”
“You sound like my father.”
“I’m just saying maybe you could make more time for us. Besides, it’s not like you guys are in it for the long run, you know? He’s not exactly your type.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Suddenly the coffee shop was too loud. The barista behind the counter was grinding beans. The sound went right through her. She gritted her teeth.
“He’s just a little weird, that’s all. I don’t want him to change you. We like you the way you are.” Abby gestured to Rebecca and Maggie. Both girls nodded in agreement. “For all we know you’ll end up pulling a Vickie Bronson and looking like a zombie overnight.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Alyssa said, grabbing her keys and standing up.
Abby grabbed her arm but Alyssa brushed her away. “I didn’t mean anything by it. We’re your friends. We’re just looking out for you.”
“Everybody is looking out for me. They seem to forget I can take care of myself. If you don’t mind, I’ve got to go eat shitty beef stew and listen to my dad talk about my dead brother like he’s going to come home at any minute.”
Alyssa walked toward the exit. Her friends called her back, apologizing, reminding her they loved her.
She slammed the door shut in response.
●●●
Dinner was painful.
Frank asked his daughter about her classes, about her friends, about every aspect of her life. Save for Busty of course. He didn’t even want to hear the kid’s name spoken. Alyssa shrugged in response to each question, her answers never more than one word long.
We Came Back Page 4