Aftermath

by Sandy Goldsworthy

  “These authors and their books are on hold in the library. Any of their work is acceptable. If you are having difficulties selecting an author, perhaps I can help.” She paused slightly as the bell rang, finishing in a louder voice, “Any book by these authors. It doesn’t have to be the ones listed. Have a good day!”

  I grabbed my things and headed out. Great. A long novel assignment. Literature used to be one of my least favorite subjects.

  Suddenly, I hated it.

  Chapter 61

  Ben's Story

  I spent the past three nights on patrol.

  My human body was tired and weak. A little rest was all I needed. Instead, I ran on adrenaline. Searching for Victor was a full-time job. Molly returned to school and a somewhat normal life. Claire was assigned to Emma, and all seemed well in Westport.

  Except that it wasn’t.

  Agents patrolled the county in human form and in spirit. At one point, there was one operative located every one-thousand square feet. After forty-eight hours with no sign of unauthorized immortals, no scent of any hybrid, and no essence of Victor reported, most agents were sent home. Molly held herself together by day, but when alone at night, I heard her petrified thoughts, even with guards following her every move.

  I glanced up at the cafeteria ceiling and saw the spirits of two immortals who propelled to the high school. A utility van parked on North Avenue housed the bodies of six agents that rotated shifts of school surveillance without human detection. It was the second lunch period out of three. The lunch hour that Emma and most of her friends were in.

  I got there late, after checking in with one of my operatives that patrolled the premises. He was stationed at the school after I compelled the police chief and claimed there were threats in the area and a campus presence was wise. Comments, thoughts, and fears crossed the minds of kids when uniformed officers arrived Monday morning. By Thursday, however, only one policeman remained since the chief couldn’t justify more.

  “The threat level has declined. There’s been no direct mention of Westport, and the only visible activities in Riverside have been dismissed as graffiti. I’ll keep one officer on duty, but I suggest you implement a closed campus,” the police chief said. The principle had no choice but to agree.

  And all I could do was watch.

  It caused sleepless nights for Molly and restless days for me, as I sat through high school courses thinking of all the places I should be searching for Victor. Work was constantly on my mind, to the point I didn’t hear the teacher call my name in art history earlier that morning. Molly’s screeching voice in my head snapped me back to reality. She fed me the answer the teacher was looking for and told me to focus.

  She was right. I needed to balance things in order to succeed.

  I glanced around the cafeteria. Juvenile behavior bounced from table to table. Lunch was a show-and-tell of social status at Westport. The haves and the have-nots segregated by linoleum at rectangular, white laminated tables with bench seating.

  Molly gossiped and laughed with Stephanie Carlson at the same table every day. It was in the second row beside Hannah, Claire, Emma, and their extended group of girls. Foreign-exchange students sat closest to the cafeteria doors with brainiacs, druggies, and drama queens filling in the rows in between.

  Window seats were unofficially reserved for the school jocks. Lucas, TJ, and some football players flanked one end, while my soccer teammates covered the other. Testosterone ran rampant. It was forty minutes of hormones, insecurities, and an occasional card game for most of the guys. For me, it was a chance to listen in on everyone’s thoughts.

  Hannah dominated the conversation as usual. Emma obediently listened, responding at appropriate times with an occasional nod, or an, “Oh, really?” to the gossip Hannah liked to share. Emma glanced behind her, and then up at the ceiling, before her eyes met mine for a split second. It wasn’t the first time she checked me out, but it was just as flattering.

  “Have you ever felt someone was looking at you, but there was no one there?” Emma asked the girls after Hannah was finally done with her story.

  Ben, did you catch that? Molly’s thoughts replaced my shock. She’s more perceptive than we thought.

  I swallowed the invisible lump in my throat. Emma’s thoughts were clear. Even though she couldn’t see the agents, she could feel their presence.

  “I know exactly what you mean!” Hannah exclaimed. “The other night I was home alone studying and I was sure someone was standing behind me. You know, like I heard breathing or something. But the house was empty.”

  “Hannah, you’re so gullible!” Claire said. “It was probably your brother.”

  “No, I swear I was home alone.”

  Lucas threw a crumpled napkin at the girl’s table, landing it on Claire’s tray. Laughter erupted, as the paper ball was tossed back with a few new ones the girls made. Lucas smiled at Emma. He intended to get Emma’s attention, and it worked. It got the conversation started between the two tables with flirtatious looks and comments whipping back and forth. In a few minutes, the volume would be loud enough to draw the attention of the lunch ladies who supervised behavior in the cafeteria, and soon the paper toss would be over.

  Drew flirted with Claire. Justin smiled at Hannah. Stephanie glared at Lucas, while he winked at Emma. I heard everyone’s thoughts as well as their spoken words. I could tolerate all the hormonal hopes until it was Lucas thinking about Emma. I took a deep breath, gritting my teeth as I listened to his inappropriate comments.

  Emma was flattered. Obviously, I needed to work harder to change that.

  Chapter 62

  Emma's Story

  I had study hall eighth period.

  In the weeks I’d been at Westport, few students actually stayed in the assigned classroom during that hour. Instead, they approached the teacher and asked for a pass. I noticed she made each student sign a sheet before handing them a laminated card.

  Going to the library to check out the books for my literature assignment seemed like a good excuse I thought, as I approached the teacher. She told me the rules about leaving, made me promise to return, and handed me the get-out-of-study-hall pass in case I was found wandering.

  The library was more impressive than I expected. The glass doors opened to a modern two-story area with tables and chairs and rows upon rows of books. It was refreshing, actually. Displays of new releases and top-selling books welcomed visitors at the entrance. They were propped up on easels with multiple copies below. I felt like I walked into Barnes and Noble, not the Westport High School library.

  While it was comforting, it was incredibly intimidating. People moved about like they knew where they were going. They walked with a purpose, as I loitered near the door.

  Where would I possibly find these reserved books?

  After glancing around, I noticed a circular island and a woman behind the counter. I waited my turn and then asked where to find the reserved section. The confusion I felt must have been written on my face, as the librarian pointed to the loft area above and behind her.

  “That’s in Room A,” she said. “There are reserved rooms along the east loft area. The western end has tables for study purposes, but please be aware of the quiet zone areas. They are marked.”

  I nodded and thanked her.

  The only thing missing was the Starbucks counter.

  I opened the glass door and walked in. It was quiet, and I was alone. I started scanning the section displayed for Mrs. Moore’s class, picking up a book here and there to read the back. Nothing popped out at me. Mom would have been good at this. She loved to read. After scanning more than half the list, I saw Hemingway and picked up one of his books.

  I heard the door open behind me, but I didn’t bother to look. I started reading the cover and the teacher’s notes on A Farewell to Arms. At least I had heard of this author.

  “Hemingway, huh?” a deep voice said behind me. I jumped. “Oh, sorry, Emma, I didn’t mean to
scare you,” Ben said as I turned to face him.

  “No, it’s me… I was just deep in thought, I guess,” I said and looked into his eyes. They were brown like milk chocolate.

  He pointed to the book in my hand, waiting for a response I didn’t give. “I wouldn’t have guessed you to pick Hemingway,” he said.

  I chuckled to myself, and couldn’t help but notice how at ease I felt with him. Even though he was virtually a stranger, a boy that I spoke with for a few minutes combined. “Honestly, it sort of jumped out at me. I didn’t know who to pick, but I’m going with it.” I smiled at how stupid that sounded, as the words met the fresh air.

  He looked into my eyes, holding me fixed for a second. “Things jump out at me too…” he said, still looking at me. “Once and awhile.”

  I looked away first, back to the book in my hand. “So, who are you picking?”

  “Hemingway,” he said with confidence and without hesitation.

  “Really? But you… I mean—” Heat rushed to my cheeks. He looked up at me with a smirk, and I stumbled over my words. “You don’t look like the type that would pick Hemingway.” I smiled. It was my weak attempt at flirting. Was my face red?

  Ben’s smirk turned into a full grin. His teeth were exceptionally white.

  “And what type would I be?” He picked up one of Hemingway’s books.

  “Um… well… let’s see.” I scanned the other shelves and took a deep breath. “I’m sure I can pick an author to match your personality.” I didn’t know where my newfound confidence came from, but I went with it.

  “You have no idea.”

  I shook my head. Laughter filled the air. “Not a clue. I told you I picked Hemingway because it jumped out at me. I never heard of half these authors before.” I motioned toward the bookcases. “Literature is not my favorite class.”

  “It’s okay… but Mrs. Moore is weird.”

  “I thought I was the only one that felt that way!”

  He smiled.

  “So why did you pick Hemingway?” I asked.

  He appeared serious. “I knew someone.” He pointed to the book I clutched in my hand. “A Farewell to Arms was her favorite.”

  Her? A look crossed his face. Was he sad? The light, airy feeling in the room vanished. I knew he had a girlfriend.

  “It was a really long time ago, actually.” He reached for another book from the reserved stack. “Hemingway has a lot of books. If you want suggestions, I could help you pick some out.”

  “Umm… maybe.” I didn’t want to sound desperate.

  “Do you have soccer practice today?” He took a seat at the large, round table in the center of the room as I answered yes. “It’s a short season, isn’t it?”

  “Yup. Only three or four weeks.” I sat in a chair on the other side of the table.

  “When’s your first game?”

  “Saturday morning.”

  He opened the cover of Hemingway’s, The Old Man and the Sea.

  “You going? I mean, to watch your sister?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll go.” He turned pages so quickly that he couldn’t have read them. “Claire and I are pretty close.”

  “That’s nice.” I paused. “Claire’s a good player.”

  “Eh, she’s alright.” I couldn’t tell if his monotone meant he agreed with me, or not. As I tried to guess his reaction, he looked up. His chocolate brown eyes were warm like hot cocoa on a cold day. I felt drawn in and didn’t want to look away. “You’re right. She is good. Just don’t tell her I said so.” He winked, and my heart pounded out of my chest.

  Chapter 63

  Ben's Story

  I’m impressed. You finally gave that girl a glimpse of the real you, Molly said.

  I sat in Spanish class, last hour of the day. Eavesdropping again?

  I wouldn’t, if you would tell me. Instead, I have to resort to reading Emma’s thoughts.

  Nice. I shook my head as I half listened to the teacher’s lecture.

  Actually, she’s beaming from ear to ear. I didn’t need to try very hard.

  You’re awfully bubbly when you delve into my personal life, I said. How ya doing? Seriously?

  The mood changed as her thoughts slowed. I’m good.

  You sure?

  Yeah. I’m sure. I knew her well enough to know she wasn’t. How would you feel if I let Jorgenson bring someone else in? she asked, after moments of silence.

  Someone? Or Bianca?

  Benjamin, you know that part’s not up to me.

  Molly, I can handle this. I don’t expect you to go on patrol, but I will not work with Bianca Beringer. My words were firm, as my blood pressure rose. I would never have guessed you’d change your mind and suggest her. You’ve never liked her. What’re you thinking?

  Molly was silent for a minute, and then finally responded. You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.

  Damned right, I had this.

  Chapter 64

  Emma's Story

  The next week flew by.

  Ben was at the library every day, in the same room. We didn’t make plans to meet there. It just happened. We talked and studied, then talked some more. We worked on math problems assigned in calculus class and laughed about Mrs. Moore’s quirkiness until the librarian hushed us.

  Ben had a great smile, and I found myself completely comfortable with him.

  When Claire asked if I’d go with her to the boys’ soccer game Thursday night, I eagerly agreed. Minutes after kick off, we were seated in the student area of the bleachers next to Hannah and a bunch of girls she introduced as girlfriends of soccer players. All but the redhead. She was definitely a wannabe, or the team’s biggest fan. She called out every player’s name. Or, at least it seemed like it. When she yelled for number twenty-three, Ben’s number, I paid closer attention to her. I couldn’t help but admit she was pretty. After a few minutes, I realized she was loud and as annoying as the juniors a few rows behind us. The rowdy guys that chanted “Go-Westport-Go,” which matched the words painted on their bare chests.

  We scored, and fans erupted with whistles and cheers. When the applause died down and people took their seats again, Lucas arrived. He said hi as he sat in front of us.

  Claire smirked at me, and I felt my cheeks getting warm until Hannah nudged me with her elbow. It was then that I noticed Stephanie and Molly at the chain-link fence in front of the parents’ section. I wasn’t sure how long they were there, but Stephanie was focused on the field, while Molly stood with TJ.

  “They’re talking again,” Hannah said.

  “That’s good, right?”

  She nodded.

  By the time the game was over, we won by three goals and everyone went to Rusty’s to celebrate. Ben sat in the corner booth with a few other players I never met before. He smiled at me and for a second, I thought he would ask me to sit with him. Before I could get my hopes up, Stephanie scooted in beside him.

  I ended up at a table with Claire, TJ, and Lucas, watching Stephanie giggle and lean into Ben.

  I should have known Ben and I were just friends.

  Chapter 65

  Ben's Story

  She could hate you. Molly smirked.

  I sat in calculus Friday morning.

  At least she thinks of you as a friend.

  Nice. Really nice, I retorted. This is because of you and your friend, Stephanie. That girl has issues. Coach Vieth was busy demonstrating a solution for the math problem in the next Chapter, so I tuned him out. I could easily look up the answer later, if it proved relevant.

  I preferred watching Emma.

  When class was dismissed, I timed my exit so I could talk with her. Drew was on my heels, as we reached the hallway. He got her attention first.

  “You comin’ to my party tonight, Emma?” Drew asked. I knew she was going without listening to her response.

  Drew dominated the conversation, while we walked with the crowd. It was meaningless chatter not worthy of my time. When we reached E
mma’s locker, she stopped.

  “I’ll catch up with you later, Emmie,” I said.

  “Emmie?” Drew questioned as we continued down the hall. His voice grew louder than necessary. “You got a pet name for her?” He laughed.

  I shook my head and chuckled. We parted ways, and I headed toward class.

  “Hey, Ben.” TJ caught up to me on the stairs.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Good. Hey, listen. Don’t call her Emmie.” His tone was firm.

  “Say what?”

  TJ stopped at the top of the stairs and grabbed my arm.

  “Don’t call her that,” he said as I turned to face him. “Her name’s Emma.” His thoughts were as firm as his tone. Emma’s mom called her Emmie. I glared back but stopped short of compelling TJ. Kids coming up the stairs interrupted our moment, as we blocked their path. Seconds later, TJ was heading toward class and I stood still, dumbfounded.

  It wasn’t often someone put me in my place. I couldn’t remember a time when someone did since I was an immortal. That was a risk most humans wouldn’t attempt. Though I couldn’t imagine TJ knew what he was getting into. As I proceeded down the corridor, I realized I was never put in my place as a human, either.

  Well, then it’s about bloody time. Molly’s sarcasm filtered into my head.

  I ignored her and scanned the comments in student’s head until I heard the voice I was searching for. Emma was talking about the sleepover at Hannah’s later that night. Once I heard her thoughts, I was also able to see what her eyes saw. It was an extension of our abilities that took more concentration, but I felt it was worthwhile now. At least she wasn’t dwelling on the name I called her. Claire and Hannah sat near Emma in Spanish class.

  I glanced around her classroom as best as I could through her sight of vision. No random thoughts of TJ or me. Just girl stuff. Clothes, makeup. Drew’s party. Football game. Sleepover.

  I exited her mind and walked into art history class.

  “What’s up with your boyfriend?” I asked Molly and sat beside her.

  She glared. I didn’t care; I was irritated.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Molly said in a low voice. Her teeth were clenched, yet she maintained her pretty posture, in line with her popularity status.