Delusions

by Amy Crandall

  Abigale climbed out of the Jeep and closed the door behind her. Giving her mother a meek wave as the Jeep pulled away, she waited until it disappeared down the road, butterflies erupting in her stomach. Suddenly feeling sick, Abigale wrapped an arm around her torso.

  Stop this. It’s just school. You can do it.

  Thinking about what Tiffany had told her last night, Abigale straightened up and forced herself to step forward, a smile that looked more like a grimace spread across her features. She couldn’t show anyone she was nervous. They’d eat her alive for sure.

  As she walked by the many groups of teenagers, she caught random snippets of conversations. They’d all turn to catch a glimpse of her, the new girl. A few had asked who she was, and other members of their clique would fill them in, giving her dirty looks as she passed.

  From what Abigale could catch, she was a girl from San Francisco who’d apparently been kicked out of her old school for beating up another student.

  She rolled her eyes when she heard the whispers. Beating up another student? She couldn’t throw a punch if she tried, much less beat someone up. She was beginning to get the vibe that teens at this school were just plain stupid.

  As she neared the front doors of the school, someone shoved her to the ground from behind. Her bag slipped off her shoulders and she scraped her hands and knees on the pavement. Small pebbles clung to her skin and she gasped in pain. When she looked up to see who had shoved her, she was surprised to see it was a teenage boy. He didn’t appear to be much older than her, but the smirk on his face ruined the possibility of him being attractive. Two other boys and a girl stood behind him, laughing.

  “Whoops! I didn’t see you there,” the boy said, shrugging.

  Abigale’s face warmed in embarrassment as more teens joined the chorus of laughter. She stood up slowly, wiping the dust from her pants. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she stuffed her hands into her pockets. “It’s fine.”

  When she tried to pass the growing cluster of students, the blond-haired boy who had pushed her down earlier stopped her, pushing her away. The look in his cruel, dark brown eyes reminded her of Lauren, the tyrant from her old school who never let her be.

  “Did I say you could leave?” he snarled.

  Abigale swallowed, pushing back the growing feeling of fear threatening to choke her. She bit her tongue before saying something she’d regret and stood there, staring him down. He was looking for a fight, and she wasn’t going to give him one.

  “Let me pass, please.”

  She stepped forward, trying to walk by the arrogant boy, but again he stopped her, pushing her back once more. “Let me pass, please!” he mocked in a high voice.

  The teens around him laughed, and the girl who’d been standing with the original group of boys pressed a kiss to the boy’s cheek. Abigale clenched her teeth in disgust. Did this girl actually think her boyfriend, or whoever he was to her, was acting cute?

  Giving the boy a glare that could have made a demon flee screaming, she tried to push past him, but he grabbed her arm with his steely grip and pulled her closer. He squeezed her arm so tightly she could feel his long fingers through the fabric of her hoodie. “Watch yourself, new girl. Wouldn’t want to hurt that pretty little face of yours.”

  “Donny!” someone said as the grip around Abigale’s arm tightened even more. She hissed at the pain throbbing up and down her arm. The boy holding her, Donny, developed a fierce expression on his face, and Abigale turned to the voice.

  “What do you want, Julia?” Donny asked in a poisonous tone.

  Abigale met the girl’s gaze, silently pleading for her to help. Her light-blue eyes looked at Abigale with assurance, a smile working its way onto her face.

  Abigale relaxed a little. She was going to be fine. This blonde girl was going to help her.

  The girl’s gaze darkened and shifted back to the boy holding Abigale. “Let her go, Donny. You’ve already done enough.”

  Donny burst into laughter, yanking Abigale closer still. She wrinkled her nose at his foul-smelling breath. “And why should I do that? I think she still needs to be taught a lesson.”

  The girl named Julia rolled her eyes. “For what? Breathing? Unless you want to be charged with assault, Donny, I’d suggest you let the girl go and walk away.”

  Donny stayed in his place for a few agonizingly painful moments, seeming to be contemplating whether to let her go. Abigale held her breath as she waited, her hands balled into fists. The grip on her arm slackened, and she took the opportunity to shake him off.

  As Donny and his group of minions left in the opposite direction, Abigale beamed at the girl. She walked up to her and extended her hand. “Thank you.”

  The girl shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Donny does that to all the new kids. It’s his way of establishing that you need to stay away from him.”

  Then the girl frowned. She reached out and took Abigale’s arm, pulling the sleeve up to her shoulder. “That looks nasty. Do you want me to get you some ice?”

  It was then that Abigale noticed the handprint-shaped mark on her arm. It was slowly darkening in color and was beginning to throb. She grimaced.

  If Donny had wanted to send a message to Abigale, he’d done a good job of it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Abigale and the blonde girl she was convinced had saved her life found a picnic table behind the school to sit at. She was grateful to get away from the snickering teens who immediately thought of her as weak the moment Donny pushed her down. It disgusted her. What did she ever do to him?

  On the way over, the girl retrieved an ice pack from the office, claiming Abigale had fallen on the pavement. It was funny that, even though the mark was shaped like a handprint, the woman at the administration desk actually believed her. Abigale knew she wouldn’t have believed her.

  The blonde girl took a seat beside Abigale. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” She passed Abigale the ice pack and extended her other hand. “I’m Julia Holland, but most call me Jules.”

  Abigale shook it firmly with her good arm. “Abigale Fern. Thanks again for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”

  Julia shrugged, giving her a warm smile. “It’s not a problem. Donny’s just a dirtbag who thinks he owns the school. You shouldn’t pay him any attention.”

  Abigale placed the cold ice pack against the gradually forming bruise on her arm. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be going near him after what happened today.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments. The ice pack cooled the hot feeling in Abigale’s arm, and she relaxed a bit. The feeling didn’t last, however. There were only five minutes before the bell sounded, and Abigale still hadn’t talked to the principal about her schedule.

  With panic seizing her thoughts, she stood. “I just realized I still haven’t seen the principal about my transfer! Crap!”

  Julia stood with her and placed a hand on Abigale’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. You still have time. Would you like me to show you the way?”

  “Yes, please. That would help a lot.”

  “Awesome.” Julia took the icepack from Abigale. She briefly glanced at the garish handprint on her arm. “That’s already looking better. Are you feeling okay?”

  Abigale nodded. The bruise had slightly faded in color, or maybe it was just a trick of the light. Even if it hadn’t, at least it had stopped throbbing. “Yes, thank you, Julia.”

  “No problem.”

  The bell rang then. Julia caught Abigale’s slightly panicked look and giggled. “Don’t worry, Abby, I’ll still show you to the office. Also, you’re welcome to join my friends and me at lunch if you want.”

  Abigale smiled in gratitude. “I’d love that.”

  ***

  Abigale’s first impression of the office was about as good as the fiasco with Donny outside. The receptionist she spoke with when Julia had left for class hadn’t shown an inch of kindness. She had literally throw
n the papers with Abigale’s schedule and locker number at her and told her to get to class. Abigale had to fight the urge to ask her what the hell her problem was. However, instead of causing a problem with administration on the first day at her new school, she told the receptionist to have a good day and left the office with the combination for her new locker clenched in her fist.

  It took her a few minutes to find the locker numbered five-seventy-three. It was located at the other end of the school, near the cafeteria and library. She was rather pleased with the placement of her locker; she was right near everything important.

  Abigale got the lock open without any trouble, hurriedly stuffed her belongings inside, and took her empty binder from her bag. Balancing the binder on her hip, she proceeded to snap the lock shut. Then she took on the task of interpreting her schedule.

  It was more confusing than her schedule at Northridge High, which had been given to her in a neat timetable at the beginning of the year. This one was just a list of her classes that labeled the period numbers down the side, and they weren’t even in order. Abigale eventually figured out she had English first in room three-oh-eight. Oh no. This school had three floors?

  Tucking the schedule into her binder, she walked to the set of stairs she’d seen while trying to find her locker. The halls were virtually empty, with the random student or teacher passing by her. One teacher that had seen her asked her what class she should be in and Abigale explained her situation. The teacher graciously helped Abigale figure out exactly where the class was located. She was grateful for the teacher’s help since she’d realized she’d been going in the wrong direction.

  After thanking her at least twice, Abigale turned back the way she came. Thankfully, the school wasn’t hard to navigate after the layout was explained to her. She found the classroom two minutes later on the third floor.

  Abigale entered the classroom, a sudden, paralyzing shyness seeping into her pores. She stood at the door, quiet as an eagle during a hunt, waiting for the dark-haired woman standing at the front to notice her. When she did, the teacher placed her hands on her hips. “Are you supposed to be in this class?”

  Abigale briefly glanced at the board behind the woman, which was crammed with information on poetic terms. “Yes, ma’am. I’m the new student. I’m sorry for being late; I had a hard time finding the classroom.”

  She heard snickers from the students but decided to ignore them. The teacher relaxed and smiled. “Oh! Well, in that case, welcome to the school. Please find your seat…Ms. Fern, is it?”

  Abigale nodded and took a seat next to a girl who was too focused on her phone to look at who’d just plopped down beside her. When Abigale greeted her, she didn’t respond. Realizing the girl had her earbuds in and was listening to her music at full blast, Abigale set down her binder and pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. She then glanced up at the teacher, who continued with the lecture she’d been giving.

  By the end of the class, Abigale had taken many notes, possibly more than her classmates had taken in a week. She was eager to get caught up and excited to start learning again. Even though it had only been a couple of days since she’d been at school, she felt like it had been months.

  “Abigale, may I speak with you for a moment?” her teacher, Ms. Hannah, asked from her desk right after the bell rang.

  Abigale waited while the rest of the students filed out of class. One passed by her and muttered, “Ohh, you’re in trouble!”

  Abigale ignored them.

  Once everyone was gone, Abigale stood with her binder. She walked over to Ms. Hannah’s desk, trying not to seem nervous. “Yes, Ms. Hannah?”

  She smiled at Abigale. “Your previous English teacher sent me some of your work yesterday. I was just reading through it and I have to say, Abigale, I’m very impressed. You have a strong vocabulary as well as great literacy skills. I rather enjoyed reading your persuasive essay on the effects of cellphones on teens. You argued some very strong points.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Hannah,” Abigale replied, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

  “You’re welcome. As I was sitting here just now, I got to thinking. There’s a contest the school runs every year where each contestant has to write a persuasive essay on a topic of their choosing, and the winner receives five hundred dollars. I think you stand a chance of winning if you entered.”

  “You want me to enter a persuasive essay contest?” Abigale gulped. “You think my work is that good?”

  “Yes, I feel you have great potential, Abigale,” Ms. Hannah replied. “You are incredibly good at getting your points across. You don’t have to decide now, but would you consider it? I’d be here for you if you needed some guidance or just someone to look over your work.”

  Abigale pondered this for a moment. Entering the contest definitely wouldn’t hurt her school career, and to possibly win five hundred dollars? How could she pass that up?

  “I’ll speak with my mom tonight. Thank you for telling me about it, Ms. Hannah.”

  “You’re welcome, Abigale. I hope to see your name on the sign-up sheet.”

  Abigale bid farewell and strode to her next class, beaming. If her English teacher was impressed with her, she was off to a good start.

  ***

  Lunch came around sooner than Abigale had expected. Chemistry had been…interesting, and her teacher, Mr. Bridges, didn’t seem overly impressed with gaining a new student in the middle of the first semester. She tried her best, but the teens of Arcata were on a completely different curriculum than she’d been in San Francisco, so Abigale didn’t know what to do with the chemicals she’d been told to explain the effects of.

  She tried to not let it faze her. It was her first day; of course she was going to be behind in the curriculum.

  It took her a while to locate her locker again. Her first two classes had both been on the third floor, so she hadn’t bothered to come back down to her locker between them. When she finally found it, Julia and a few others were already waiting for her.

  “Hey!” Julia said cheerfully as Abigale approached. “How were your classes?”

  Abigale shrugged, shaking off the weird feeling she had brewing in the pit of her stomach. How had they known where her locker was? “They were okay. Ms. Hannah wants me to enter the school’s essay contest. I don’t think Mr. Bridges was happy with my presence in chemistry though.”

  Julia snorted. “Don’t worry about old Bridges. He hates everyone. And the essay contest? Ms. Hannah must have been very impressed with you!”

  “And she’s rarely impressed,” a brunette standing beside Julia added.

  “Really?” Abigale’s eyes drifted to the kids on either side of Julia. There were two girls, a blonde and the brunette, and one boy. Abigale was taken aback when she got a glance at him. His eyes, the same ones she’d become acquainted with when he stood at her doorway the previous night with the pizza delivery, reminded her of freshly budding leaves. Her heart fluttered when he smiled sweetly.

  Julia noticed Abigale staring and quickly said, “Oh, how rude of me! This is Bethany. She’s dating Mike over here,” she jerked a thumb over to the green-eyed boy, and Abigale’s heart sank a little. Of course he was dating someone.

  “And this,” she pointed to the brunette, “is Rachel.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Rachel grinned, extending a hand. Abigale shook it firmly. Mike also shook her hand, his steady gaze making her pulse flutter again. She wondered if he remembered her.

  When she turned to the blonde named Bethany, Bethany didn’t smile. The look she gave Abigale was menacing. Don’t even think about coming near my boyfriend, Bethany’s glare warned her.

  After a few seconds, Bethany gave Abigale her hand to shake. “Welcome to Arcata.”

  “Thanks,” Abigale said, her voice an octave higher than usual.

  Bethany was giving her that look again, and Abigale pursed her lips, turning back to Julia.

  “So…who wants to eat?” Julia asked.

&nbs
p; CHAPTER EIGHT

  The atmosphere at the lunch table was laced with silence. Abigale didn’t know if it was because she was there, or if things were always quiet amongst the group of friends.

  She could tell Bethany didn’t like her, which caused part of the awkward silence, but she didn’t blame the girl. Abigale knew she’d been staring too long at Mike, and it would be enough to make any girlfriend jealous. She wanted to bang her head against a wall for being so stupid. She wasn’t one of those girls who stole boyfriends, and that was the first impression Bethany had of her.

  The good thing was that everyone else was welcoming, especially Julia. She was chipper throughout the rest of lunch, wanting to know everything about San Francisco and Northridge High. When Abigale got to the part about leaving her best friend behind, tears gathered in her eyes. Needless to say, she stopped discussing it before she started to bawl in front of her new friends.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, why did you move?” These were the first words Mike said since he’d introduced himself to Abigale. He’d been listening intently the whole time she was talking, barely taking his eyes off her. Maybe that was why Bethany still had a murderous countenance.

  Abigale shrugged. “Mom wanted a fresh start. I honestly don’t know why we moved. It was so sudden. I was at school one day and here the next.”

  “Sometimes it’s nice to have a fresh start. Besides, I’m sure it’s not that bad! If you hadn’t moved, you’d never have met us!” Jules said.

  Mike and Rachel nodded. Bethany, however, upheld her glare.

  Abigale smiled broadly, ignoring the fact that Bethany’s eyes were burning holes in her head. “Yes, I guess I wouldn’t have.”

  The bell sounded over the intercom, startling Abigale. It was more of an abrupt sound than the bell at her old school. She knew she’d have to get used to it, along with everything else about Arcata.