Delusions

by Amy Crandall

  Then she remembered two weeks earlier, when a strange figure stood outside Damien’s house in the cold. She wondered if it was him, cloaked in darkness. A shiver ran through her and she glanced over at him. She wanted to ask who it had been that night, but she didn’t want to worry Damien either. After all, she saw the person outside of his uncle’s house. But if it had been him, she wondered what he’d been up to that night.

  “What’s on your mind?” asked Damien, his eyebrows knitting together in worry. He set down his can of Coca-Cola and shifted on the couch so he faced her. “You seem upset.”

  “Me?” Abigale laughed nervously, brushing off her thoughts of mysterious figures shrouded in darkness. “No, I was just thinking about school. The homework has been piling up lately.”

  Damien nodded but didn’t it appear he believed what she was saying. His eyes locked with hers again, and she felt as if the breath had been stolen from her lungs. She leaned forward, closing the distance between them. She knew she shouldn’t be doing what she was doing, but she didn’t seem to have control of her own body or thoughts anymore. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest she could hear the throb in her ears. He leaned closer too. So close that she was able to smell the faint scent of his cologne.

  His hand slipped over her shoulder, slowly drawing her nearer. Abigale knew she should pull away, but a part of her didn’t want to. She’d only been kissed once, on a dare set by Tiffany. Her best friend dared her crush at the time, Chris, to go up to Abigale in the middle of school and kiss her. It wasn’t a nice kiss, and it wasn’t something Abigale ever wanted to relive. Tiffany apologized later on when she found Abigale crying in a bathroom stall. There, they made a pact they would never dare anyone to do anything like that again.

  Now she had a real chance to actually kiss someone, someone who possibly liked her. Her eyes slid closed as his lips brushed against hers gently, teasingly. She shuddered in anticipation.

  And that was how her mother found them when she walked through the front door.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Damien hightailed it the second he caught her mother’s furious expression. He didn’t even say good-bye to Abigale, who was still sitting on the couch when he brushed by her mother and disappeared. Her mind was whirling from what she nearly allowed herself to do.

  She didn’t know what to say to her mother, who was giving her a disapproving look. What could she say? She almost kissed her neighbor. The neighbor who was five years older than her and attending college next fall.

  “It’s ten o’clock, Abigale. Why was he still here?” her mother’s frown deepened. “And may I ask why I found you two kissing on the couch?”

  Abigale’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “We didn’t actually kiss, Mom. And to be fair, he was waiting with me until you got home.”

  “Was he now?” her mother raised an eyebrow. “Was kissing someone five years younger than himself something he called waiting with you until I got home?”

  Shaking her head, Abigale got up from the couch. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”

  “We aren’t finished with this conversation, young lady!” her mother called after Abigale as she climbed the staircase.

  Her only reply was the slam of her bedroom door.

  Once she was alone, Abigale sat at her desk with her head in her hands. She thought about Damien and how close they’d been to kissing. When she closed her eyes, she imagined herself back in that room with Damien only centimeters away. Her muscles relaxed, recalling the moment of bliss.

  Then she thought about Mike, which caused a tug-of-war between her mind and heart. She was attracted to Mike, no doubt about that, but there was something about Damien that intrigued her and left her wishing for more.

  Damien was five years older than her. Not only would her mother not condone it, she wouldn’t let Abigale anywhere near him. Mike was her age though.

  Abigale groaned. The whole matter with boys was so complicated. She didn’t know how anyone could handle it.

  She sat at her desk for a few minutes longer, staring at the wall. Then she stood and walked to her bedroom window. The curtains were pushed back, giving her a view of the street. For being ten in the evening, the town was quiet. She had to remind herself that she didn’t live in San Francisco anymore. This was Arcata; a small town with a population of seventeen thousand versus San Francisco’s eight hundred thousand.

  Letting a yawn overcome her, Abigale stretched her arms out. She had slept better the night before than she had for the past few weeks, and it only worsened her fatigue. She pulled the curtains shut, slipped out of her jeans, and threw them on the floor before climbing under the blankets. She slid her foot under the sheets, then yelped in surprise when a sharp prick of pain shot through her foot. She quickly flipped the light. A dribble of crimson trickled down her pale skin. Something was sticking out at the site of the wound.

  Snatching a tissue from her bedside table, she wiped away the blood and pulled out the foreign object, grimacing at the prick of pain.

  Abigale examined the small object in the tissue. She removed it from the tissue and felt it between her fingers. A realization came over her and she dropped it as if it had bitten her.

  It was a thorn.

  Abigale threw back the covers and leaped up, slapping a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.

  A single red rose lay where she had placed her foot earlier, glaring up at her with its deep, fierce color. She took a step back, ignoring the slight sting when she placed her foot down. A small piece of cream-colored paper was poking out from underneath the flower. She knew what it was the moment she saw it. She went to the floor where she’d dropped her jeans in a heap and pulled out her phone from the pocket.

  Trembling, Abigale dialed a number and placed the phone up to her ear. She waited three rings before a sleepy voice sounded on the other end of the line.

  “Abigale?”

  “There’s another note, Tiffany,” Abigale let out in one breath. Her knees knocked together as a thought came to her. Someone had been in her room.

  “What?” Tiffany sounded more awake then. “Abby, where are you?”

  “In my room,” she replied, eyeing the small present. “I found a rose and a note in my bed. It was in my bed, Tiff. Someone—someone was in my room today!”

  Tiffany bombarded her with questions: “Did you read what it says? Did they leave it during school? Were you with anyone tonight?”

  “I haven’t read it yet. I’m scared to. And I was with a friend tonight. We ate here, at the house. It must have been while I was at school, right?”

  “Read it,” Tiffany urged, fear lacing her tone. “I want to hear what it says.”

  Abigale stepped toward her bedspread. She gingerly lifted the rose out of the way, setting it beside the note. As if the note was a bomb, she removed it from the bed, her fingers struggling to open the creases.

  “Are you still there, Abby?” Tiffany’s worried voice startled her, and Abigale almost dropped the note.

  “Yes, I’m still here.” She read the note to herself first and shuddered.

  “Well, what does it say?”

  Abigale swallowed hard. She didn’t want to read it out loud.

  “Abby?”

  “It’s…” Abigale straightened. She didn’t want to tell Tiffany what the note actually said. She didn’t want to worry her friend further. “It’s blank.”

  If Tiffany detected Abigale’s lie, she never expressed it. She breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Are you sure the rose is from that person? Was this only the second rose you’ve received?”

  Unless you count the rose emoticon he sent me over Facebook, no.

  “This is only the second one. Do you think I’m just being paranoid?”

  There was a pause. “No, I don’t think you are being paranoid. I think you should figure out if the person sending you these roses is a threat. If they are, I’d highly suggest telling the cops about it. By the way, have you talked to your mot
her?”

  “About the roses and the n-note?” Abigale had to catch herself before she said notes plural.

  “Yes. Have you talked to her, Abby?”

  Abigale sighed. “No, I haven’t.”

  “What? Abigale, you need to tell her!”

  Pursing her lips together, Abigale clenched the note tight in her fist. “I don’t want her to worry. It’s probably nothing.”

  Liar.

  “Abby, I’m worried about you. You finding roses in your bed…it’s not normal. You need to tell someone besides the friend who lives three hundred miles away. I can’t help you from here and you know it.”

  “I know. But who else can I tell? My mom would never let me out of her sight again if she found out.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing, Abby. I mean, in light of recent events—”

  “No! I’m not telling my mother about this, Tiffany. Like I told you before, it’s probably nothing.”

  The long stretch of silence that followed gave Abigale the time to panic again. The note…the rose. Someone was here in her room in the last twenty-four hours. What the note had written on it scared Abigale to her very core. She fought the urge to look at it again. She didn’t want to look at it, not while Tiffany was still on the phone with her.

  “I’m sorry, Tiff. I should probably get off the phone now. Mom likes to track my call time.”

  Good job, Abigale. That’s, what, your third lie tonight?

  “Oh, okay,” Tiffany replied, her voice lower. “Call me tomorrow then? And text me before school? I just want to know you’re all right.”

  “I will. Thanks for talking with me, Tiff. Sorry I woke you.”

  After hanging up, Abigale dropped her phone on top of her jeans, ignoring the new message that had just been sent to her. She’d answer Tiffany back tomorrow.

  She sat down on the edge of the mattress, feeling it dip under her weight. Uncurling her fist, she read the note again. She ignored the rose laying only centimeters from her. She ignored the slight pain in her foot. She ignored her phone, which buzzed with another new message. Instead, she stared at the words written in beautiful cursive. Her insides were knotted and the desire to vomit grew stronger the longer she looked at the note. She wasn’t sure if it was a threat or a greeting card, and that was probably what scared her the most. What was she supposed to do? Who could she trust besides Tiffany? Her mother? Julia? Mike? What about Damien, who she almost kissed? Could she trust him?

  As she read the words one more time, Abigale came to a decision. She couldn’t trust anyone. Not yet.

  It read:

  For you, dearest Abigale. See you soon.

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  Abigale didn’t receive another note the next day, or the day after that. Her anonymous admirer seemed to have gone silent again. What kept her up at night were the nightmares.

  The first one occurred the night she cut her foot with the thorn. She dreamed that a man chased her through the forest. He was wearing a baggy hoodie, so the only thing that tipped her off that it was a man was his stocky build, heavy footsteps, and muscles. Muscles she’d felt when he caught up to her and threw her to the ground. Sticks and leaves from the forest floor stuck in her hair, and her breath came out in shallow gasps as she tried to regain her ability to see. The figure knelt, his breath hot on her face.

  Her heart accelerated when he brushed his fingers across her cheek and said, “I told you I’d come for you, dearest Abigale.”

  He leaned closer, brushing his cold lips against hers. She saw a flash of silver in her peripheral vision and then gasped when the knife he wielded pierced through her chest.

  Abigale had awoken drenched in sweat.

  Since then, she had felt more unsafe than ever. Nightmares plagued her, and the only thing that would keep them away was to not sleep at all. She would pass out a couple of hours before it was time to get up for school. That was when the horrifying depths of her imagination would take hold.

  The good thing was that her friends didn’t notice anything was going on. Mike had been avoiding her since the last time they spoke at her locker when she told him she needed space. She felt sorry for him, because every time she thought of him, all she was able to think of was Damien’s lips practically meeting hers. For the first time in her life, she was torn between two boys.

  On the fourth day of Mike’s absence, Abigale found a note in her locker. She panicked at first, thinking it was from them. She soon realized it was from Mike. He wanted to meet her alone at lunch. He wanted to talk.

  Abigale didn’t know what to think of the note. Was it really from Mike? It did have his signature, but it didn’t seem like him to leave a note instead of approach her directly.

  He’s scared you’ll reject him again, her mind counseled.

  Sighing, Abigale closed her locker door, note in hand. She had to determine what to do with him at some point, and she prayed she’d be able to find the clarity by the time lunch rolled around.

  “Hey, Abby!” Rachel called from down the hall.

  A grin spread across Abigale’s face when she spotted her friend’s dark hair bobbing through the large group of students.

  “Hey,” she replied when Rachel pushed through the crowd. “How was first period?”

  “It was good. How was yours?” Rachel smiled, then noticed the note in Abigale’s hand. With quick reflexes, she snatched the slip of paper out of her grip and unfolded the creases. “Who’s this from, I wonder?”

  “Rachel, give it back.” Abigale reached to swipe the note away, but Rachel dodged her. Abigale was scared. What would Rachel think of Mike’s advances? She hadn’t talked to any of her friends before about the topic. As far as they knew, Mike had no interest in her.

  “Mike?” Rachel gasped when she finished reading the note. Her kaleidoscope eyes drifted up to Abigale’s nervous expression. “As in Mike Klasson?”

  Abigale gave a brief nod of her head. Her palms grew sweaty as Rachel’s eyes widened. “Does Bethany know about this?”

  “Why do you think she almost knocked me out in the cafeteria that day?” Abigale leaned against a neighboring locker. “I didn’t make any advances on him, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  Rachel was quiet for a few moments. She read over the paper a few more times like she couldn’t believe it. Then she looked up at Abigale again, who was sweating bullets. “Well, are you going to go meet him?”

  Abigale shrugged, averting her gaze. “I don’t know yet. Do you think I should?”

  The brunette pursed her lips together in thought. “I’ve been friends with Bethany for a long time. You can understand why this would be hard for me to say, but maybe you should hear him out. I know Beth didn’t treat him right, with the cheating and all. I can understand why he’d be interested in someone else.”

  “Wait, Bethany cheated on him?” Abigale’s eyes widened.

  Rachel clapped a hand over her mouth. “You didn’t know? Oh, jeez. I thought Jules mentioned it.”

  Processing the information, Abigale was beginning to connect a few things together. The way Bethany had been looking at Donny in the cafeteria that day; the way Jules had acted when Donny’s name was mentioned. You are part of the reason, but you’re not the whole reason, she had said.

  “Abigale?”

  Abigale snapped out of her reverie. “No, I didn’t know she cheated on him. Was it before I got here?”

  Rachel’s expression was grim. “No, it wasn’t. I’m sorry. I wish I wasn’t the one to have told you.”

  “It’s okay,” Abigale said, but her thoughts were racing. She wasn’t going to see Mike before she had the conversation with Rachel, but maybe she should go see what he had to say. Perhaps he just needed a friend to confide in.

  “Just please don’t tell Bethany I said anything. She’d kill me for blabbing,” Rachel said hastily.

  “Don’t worry. We aren’t on speaking terms anyway. She hates my guts, remember?”

&nbs
p; “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, Abigale. Just let her calm down,” Rachel replied, flashing a warm smile. Then her eyes flicked down to the note. “What are you going to do about him?”

  Abigale sighed. “I might hear him out. I’m still deciding. I’ll let you know about it afterword.”

  “Sounds good.” Rachel gave her a friendly hug. “Have a good class.”

  “You too,” Abigale replied. She eyed the paper and pursed her lips. What was she going to do about him?

  ***

  Abigale still hadn’t determined what she was going to do about Mike’s plea when the bell rang for lunch, and the thought of speaking to him made her stomach flip. She was nervous around him already, and the fact that she now was aware he liked her made it that much harder.

  It also didn’t help that he was waiting at her locker for her.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said as soon as she reached it. His endearing green eyes pleaded with her, and she fought off a blush.

  “I got your message,” she said, stuffing her binder in her locker. Her muscles were tensed, ready to flee if necessary.

  “And?”

  “And what?” She slammed the locker door shut and shoved the combination lock through the hole to lock it.

  “Will you let me talk to you?”

  Abigale paused for a moment, biting her lip. Then she turned toward him, folding her arms across her chest self-consciously. “Okay, talk.”

  “Not here,” he told her, glancing around nervously. “Somewhere private?”

  Somewhere private? The thought caused Abigale’s eyes to widen. Being alone with anyone didn’t seem like a good idea considering the messages she’d been receiving, but she didn’t know how to tell him no. Frankly, she didn’t want to talk to him in front of teenagers who would spread the message like wildfire. Once it got back to Bethany…Abigale didn’t want to think about what could happen.

  “I guess,” she replied quietly.

  His eyes lit up. “Maybe the bleachers? They’re usually empty at lunch.”