Natalie Cuddington
The thing about grade 12 is that you’re finally at the top. Grade 12 is what one works their entire high school career towards. When you start out in grade nine, you’re at the bottom of the food chain. You don’t know where the cool places are to hang out, you don’t know where the good lockers are, or which teachers you can joke with. You don’t know how to get the cafeteria ladies to give you extra gravy on your poutine. But you stick it out. You make your way through the hell of grade nine, and by the time grade 10 comes around, you know a thing or two. You know which shower works the best in the girls’ locker room, and which ones to avoid. You know which hallways to go down before lunch so you don’t get trampled on your way to your locker. And by the time grade 11 comes, you’re starting to make your way up to the top. You’re finally starting to understand what it is that makes this school not suck so much. But the best part is when you make it to your final year. You’re at the top. You know all. You know everyone. You know all the secret places, the secret routes, the teachers, everything.
You see, that’s why I was so upset when my parents finally got a divorce the summer after grade 11, and both moved. Yeah, they both moved. So it didn’t matter who I chose to live with, I was going to be stuck going to a new school no matter what. A new school in my last year of high school. I finally made my way to the top, and now I’m going to be at the bottom.
My mom calls me from downstairs to tell me that I’m going to be late. I won’t be late. I look at the clock and see that I still have 12 minutes before I really need to leave. I know this because I planned out the walk to the school three times after my mom nagged me a million times. It only takes 14 minutes to walk to school, and I will only need ten minutes to get my schedule and find my class once I get there. Classes don’t even start for 40 minutes, so I’ll still have time to spare once I have everything sorted. She’s such a mom sometimes.
“Becca!” she calls again. “Let’s go!”
I sigh and look at myself in the mirror one more time. I’m not sure about the outfit I picked out. I’m not the best at coordinating, but I really want to look good on my first day of being the new meat, and in the oldest grade. Ugh, this is so nerve-racking. We moved to a small town too, so everyone is bound to know everyone. I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb; the last thing I want is people judging me on what I chose to wear. Does my plain ponytail look too tomboyish? Maybe I should take it out and let it fall over my shoulders. Except it’s still wet in some spots, so it’ll dry weird. Ok, fine, the ponytail stays in, but should I be wearing this polo top? I mean, I do have the buttons undone with a pink camisole underneath, so that’s cute, isn’t it? Why am I even worrying about this? I never worry about stuff like this. I lean a bit closer to the mirror when I notice a red mark just under the right side of my collar bone. I bring my fingers up to it, but it doesn’t hurt or itch or anything. Whatever, it’s probably nothing. At least the jeans I’m wearing make my butt look nice. And I did run a lot this summer, so I look good. I think. I mean I don’t have any love handles hanging over my belt, and being a bit slimmer than I used to makes me feel taller. 5’5” isn’t that short for a girl anyway; it’s pretty average, but it makes me feel a bit more confident. Maybe I should have put mascara on. I run to the bathroom and dig through my makeup bag, and then run the mascara through my eyelashes. I manage to do it without stabbing myself in the eye, and when I step back a bit, I smile and try to convince myself this will be a good day. Maybe I’m stereotyping small towns too much, and no one will even notice that I’m new.
“I’m heading to work!” my mom calls from downstairs. “Are you ready to leave!?”
“In a minute!” I yell back. “I won’t be late, I promise!”
Crap, I’m late. Wonderful.
I walk into the office and tell them my name at the front desk.
“You’re late,” the secretary says with a tsk in her voice. Oh, now she’s giving me a look.
“Sorry, I know,” I say. “I couldn’t decide what to wear.” Wow, way to sound like a Barbie ditz, there, Becca.
“Mhmm.” She hands me a schedule and proceeds to give me that look that says she’s disappointed in me, and also sort of appalled. I would be too if I were her. I can’t believe I told her I couldn’t decide what to wear. “Your first class is in room 2201, it’s upstairs on the other side of the school. Think can you find it?”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. Thanks.” I smile at her and take my schedule.
I’m looking it over as I walk through the empty halls, but as it turns out, they aren’t that empty after all, and I bump right into something. I make this awful oof noise, and almost stumble back completely, but a pair of very strong hands that seem to be much too manly to still be in high school, grab my arms and keep me steady.
“You ok?” he says to me.
I look up at him and almost melt right there in the hallway. This guy, is like, gorgeous. First of all, he’s tall – probably 6’2”at least – and his dark hair is messed up in the most perfect way, and his sparkling blue eyes make me feel like I’m drowning. And was that his chest I bumped into? I honestly thought it was a brick wall.
“Uh, yeah, sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I manage to say. But mostly for some reason, I just find myself trying to smile without making my nose look too big. I’ve never really taken the time to actually be worried about the fact that I’m not, like, you know, hot, but standing in front of Mr. Beautiful, I just can’t help it.
He smiles and rubs my arms a little bit as he lets go and steps back. His skin is so smooth! And tanned. And perfect. “That’s ok, I wasn’t really paying attention either. Hey, are you new here?”
“Yeah. I just moved here from Toronto.”
“To this little town? Must be a big change.”
I shrug. “It’s not so bad. I kind of like it.” Hmm. Talking to him is actually surprisingly easy.
He smiles again and a part of me dies a little inside. I can’t take it. He’s just so beautiful. “Well I should get back to class.”
“Yeah, and I should find mine.”
“Nice to meet you… Uh…”
“Becca,” I say.
“Becca. Nice to meet you, Becca. I’m Zac.”
“Cool.” Cool?
“See you around.” And he leaves. He leaves, just like that. Mr. beautiful Zacman is walking away. I should too. I should really find my class. I stare at his butt for a second, even though his jeans are loose and I can’t really see much. But I know it’s there. I finally realize what I’m doing, and shake my head to try and clear all the fuzzies out of it, and get back to my normal self. My normal self. I don’t even know who that is anymore.
I find my English class and go to turn the handle, but it’s locked. Why is it locked? I knock on it, and a full two minutes later, the teacher comes and opens it.
“Can I help you?” she asks.
“I’m in your class. I’m really sorry I’m late.”
“You’re sorry?” She eyes me over her large, plastic glasses that would be cool if she was doing it on purpose. But I can tell she’s had these frames since the first time they were in style.
“Yes, I’m really sorry. I just moved here a few weeks ago, and I didn’t think it would take me that long to walk here.”
She puts her hand on her hip and stares at me like I’ve offended her. Maybe I have. “Find a seat,” she sighs.
I nod and duck into class, trying to ignore all the faces studying me, probably judging me. I find an empty seat at the back and slide into it, setting my backpack on the floor next to me.
“You must be,” she pauses to look at her attendance sheet. “Rebecca McIntyre.”
“Becca,” I correct her.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s just Becca… I like Becca.”
“Becca.” She says it like it hurts her tongue. What is wrong with this school?
I try to brush past it and pull a binder out from my bag, but I can’t help but notice a boy looking at me from across the room. Everyone else has seemed to move on and get back to their work, but this kid is really interested in me for some reason. I smile at him, but he looks back to the front of the class really quickly, like he thought I didn’t notice him looking, and when I caught him, he didn’t know what to do. I shrug and try to listen to the teacher.
I make it to my next class on time, and notice Zac sitting at a desk in the middle of the room. I start to get butterflies just thinking about sitting next to him. But then I remind myself that there can be good things when it comes to starting out at a new school. I get to be a new person. I can be different and no one will think anything of it. I swallow and walk over to him, pull the chair out from the desk that’s beside his, and plop myself down in it.
“Hey, it’s you,” he says with a smile. His sharp cheekbones are even more noticeable than earlier, and I continue my gaze down to his square jaw. Really, how is this guy only in grade 12?
“Yeah,” I say.
“How was your first class?”
“It was ok.”
“Well this one’ll be better.”
“How do you know?” I ask.
“Because you’ll be sitting next to me.”
“Right.” Smooth, Becca. Real smooth.
I actually have quite a difficult time concentrating with Zac sitting next to me. Sometimes he just stops doing his work and literally sits there staring at me.
“What?” I finally say.
“What do you mean ‘what’?”
“You’re staring at me.”
“You’re beautiful.”
I feel my cheeks go hot, and hope he doesn’t notice the redness. “Uh, thanks.” What else am I supposed to say? That he’s lying? I mean, I don’t think I’m really unattractive, but I’m certainly not beautiful. Even though I ran all summer and got pretty toned, my cheeks still seem to be kind of chubby. I just have a round face and a fat nose, and someone like Zac shouldn’t be calling me beautiful.
“Really,” he says.
“You’re quite the looker yourself, Zac.” I can’t believe I said that.
He laughs a little bit and the teacher looks up from his desk at us. “Is something funny, Zac?”
Zac shakes his head. “Nothing’s funny, Mr. Cooke.”
“Good. Get back to your work, then.”
“Hey, you should eat lunch with me,” he says real quietly, as he leans in closer to me. I can feel his breath on my neck and it’s making the little hairs stand on end.
“Ok,” I whisper.
“Do you know where the caf is?”
“I’m sure I can find it.”
“Ok,” he says slowly. “I’ll meet you outside the doors, then. We can get fries or pizza or something and eat out on the bleachers.”
“Sounds romantic,” I say in a slightly mocking tone.
“Good.” He didn’t seem to catch on. Or maybe he’s playing along.
“Mr. Robitaille, really, what is so interesting?” Mr. Cooke asks, irritated.
“Nothing, Mr. Cooke.” Zac smirks at me, and I just roll my eyes.
I find the cafeteria pretty easily, and wait by the doors like Zac said. The hallway is getting pretty crowded, but I can’t see him anywhere. I decide to wait for 10 minutes, and if he doesn’t show, I’ll just go eat alone. But I can’t help but notice that guy from English eyeing me from down the hall. He’s not creepy or anything, but it’s still weird the way he’s staring at me. What’s wrong with him? Does he think there’s something wrong with me? I’m about to walk over to him and ask him what’s up, when Zac walks up from behind me and says hey.
“Hey,” I say turning around. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“Sorry, I got held up at my locker.”
“Ha. I just realized I haven’t even been to mine, yet.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I was late coming in, and I just… I don’t know, I came here after class ‘cause I was hungry.”
“How hungry are you?” he asks. “Do you want me to help you find it before we get some food?”
“Sure.” I smile and pull my schedule out of my jeans pocket. “It’s number 1101.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Man, that sucks. It’s only in like, the farthest hallway from everything.”
“Oh. That does suck.”
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I’ll show you.”
I follow him out of the main hall and around a corner. We pass the woodtech classes and the music room, and then go down another hallway. I follow him all the way to the end, where we turn down yet another hallway, and I’m slightly creeped out to see that there aren’t even any classrooms down here. It’s literally just a hallway for lockers.
“1101 is closer to the other end,” he says. “The plus side is it’s never busy down here since it’s a dead end. So no one will be walking into you while you’re trying to get your stuff. The downside is it’s out of the way.”
“Shitty,” I say.
“Quite. Come on.” He starts walking again and I keep stride next to him, even though he’s so tall and his steps are so much bigger than mine. We make it all the way to the end and he points to my locker. I take my bag off and set it on the floor so I can unzip it and take my lock out. It’s the same lock I’ve used for all of high school, so at least that one tiny thing is familiar. I open the door and listen to the echo of the metal scraping against metal in the empty hall.
“Well, it’s a locker,” I say. I’m about to shut it again and put my lock on it, when the lights flicker. I jump a little and turn to Zac, but he’s not there. Where did he go? That’s when the lights go off completely and I’m left in total darkness. “Hello?” I call. “Zac? Where did you go?”
Silence. My toes start to go numb and my teeth chatter as the air around me gets cold. What’s happening? I feel something brush past me and I actually scream, and spin around to catch what it was. Someone laughs in the distance and it bounces off the lockers and seems to stick inside my head. Is this some kind of initiation joke?
“This isn’t funny, Zac!” I scream. My words just echo off the walls around me and it’s all I can hear. I slide to the floor and bring my knees up to my chest, hugging them and hunching my neck into my shoulders. What’s happening? I hear the laugh again and immediately clasp my hands over my ears. “Stop it!” I cry.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and I jump, another scream escaping my lips. But when I open my eyes, the lights are on again, and that guy from English class is kneeling in front of me.
“Hey, shh, it’s ok,” he whispers.
“What the hell was that?” I shout. “You think that was funny?” I can feel the tears on my face and I’m embarrassed, yet sort of not at the same time. He should feel bad for what he did, shouldn’t he?
“No,” he says. “That wasn’t funny at all. I was just making sure you were ok.”
“Well I’m not ok, alright? I’m not ok!” I stand up and brush my pants off, trying to collect myself.
“Do you know what just happened?” he asks.
“Yeah, you played a dumb prank on me because I’m new.”
He stares at me with wide eyes and slowly shakes his head. “You’re new at this, aren’t you?”
“New at what? Being shit on?”
“No, new at this.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe we should go somewhere and talk.”
“What? Are you kidding me?” I say. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you creep.”
He pulls back a bit, and his dark eyes seem a little innocent. Like I’ve hurt him and he’s trying to look like I didn’t. I feel kind of bad for calling him a creep, and I want to apologize, but he cuts me off before I even get a word out. “I was just trying to help.” He shakes his head and turns around, leaving me alone in the empty locker hallway.
I’m not alone for long, though, because Zac shows up around the corner and starts running towards me. “There you are,” he says.
“Here I am?” I ask. “What do you mean here I am?”
“I mean here you are.”
“I’ve been here the whole time!”
“I swear, Becca, you totally just disappeared on me. You were here one second, and then you were gone.”
“Come on, how could I just be gone?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. But you were.”
“You don’t find that weird?”
“Well, yeah, actually, I find it very weird.”
“Whatever. You played your little trick. Can we go eat now?”
“What little trick?”
“Stop playing around, Zac!” I shake my head. “I’m really hungry, let’s just go get lunch before the hour’s over.”
“Ok.” He sounds hesitant, but walks back to the cafeteria with me. He even pays for my pizza slice. I’m still mad at him for playing that stupid prank, but at least he paid for my lunch. Maybe they play that trick on every new person and then buy their lunch after to make up for it.
Zac puts his hand around my shoulder as we walk through the hall towards the exit and it feels good. A super good looking guy thinks I’m beautiful and has his arm around me. I can’t help but smile. But I also can’t help but notice the guy from English class, leaning against the wall, watching us as we walk towards the doors.
"Hey, Becca, right?” I hear from behind me on my way to school the next morning. I turn back a bit to see the guy from English jogging to catch up to me.
“Yeah,” I say.
“I’m Chance.”
“Hi, Chance.”
“Look, about yesterday –”
“Whatever,” I say, cutting him off. “I don’t think it’s very nice, but if it’s some sort of stupid tradition that you guys do to everyone, then I forgive you.”
“That wasn’t a prank.”
“Sure.”
“I’m serious.”
“Ok.”
“Listen to me, Becca. I’m not joking.”
“Fine. It wasn’t a prank. Can we move on now?”
He shakes his head. “No, we can’t move on.”
“Why not?” I look at him and watch as he hooks his thumbs around his backpack straps. I also notice that his brown hair is styled into a faux hawk today, whereas yesterday it was just hanging loosely, as hair does without any product.
“Because that thing that happened by the lockers yesterday, that wasn’t something that really happened, so much as it was something that happened to you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“No, it doesn’t really sound like it does, does it?”
“You’re weird,” I say.
He blushes and turns his head away for half a second. “Look, can we get together sometime? Hang out after school or something?”
“I dunno,” I say, trying to sound casual. I don’t want this to be some kind of date. I really want something to happen with Zac. I’ve never had someone like me before, let alone someone really hot, like Zac, and I’ve never had another guy ask to hang out on top of that. Maybe he doesn’t even like me like that, but I’m still not sure how to respond without hurting his feelings or sounding like I thought he wanted it to be a date when he actually didn’t.
“I really think it would be good for you if we hung out,” he says.
“Good for me?”
He just nods. I look at him for a few seconds and can’t help but notice a little pimple under his nose. It’s really small, and I know that I have three of them on my chin – I covered them with makeup this morning - but for some reason, his zit is all I can see. There is a gorgeous guy in my new school who called me beautiful and then bought me lunch, and now there’s a guy with a pimple under his nose who wants to hang out with me. When did I become so shallow?
“Look, I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything, but I kind of like someone,” I say.
“You like someone?” he asks. “You’re new here and it’s the second day of school and you already like someone?”
“Well, kind of, yeah.”
He shakes his head and readjusts his hands on his backpack straps. “I wasn’t asking you out on a date or anything. Jeez, not everyone’s falling in love with you.” He walks a bit faster and I can’t help but feel a little sting. I didn’t mean for it to sound like I was full of myself.
“Wait,” I say, picking up the pace to catch up with him. “Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound conceited.”
He turns his head to look at me for a second. “You didn’t.”
“What?”
“You didn’t sound conceited,” he says with a bit of a sigh.
“Oh.” I fall in step with him and keep pace beside him, but when I turn my head to look at him, I have to look up a little bit. He’s taller than I thought he was. Not quite as tall as Zac, but he’s probably five or six inch inches taller than I am.
“Anyways, I just thought you might want a friend.”
“Ok.” I smile. “That sounds nice, actually.”
“Great.” He smiles too, showing off a dimple in each cheek.
We end up walking the rest of the way to school together, but we don’t say much. I thought it would be awkward, but for some reason it’s not. I don’t even realize that he’s following me to my locker until I make it to the creepy hallway and slowly come to a halt. He’s right beside me and I can hear him breathing.
“Why is no one down this hallway?” I ask.
“It’s a creepy hallway. People use their lockers as little as possible when they’re stuck down here.”
I turn to look up at him, but he’s not even looking at me. He’s still facing the end of the hall.
“I don’t think I need anything from my locker anyway,” I say.
“Come on, don’t be a wimp.” He starts walking down the creepy row of lockers but I stay put. When he realizes that I didn’t follow him, he stops and turns around. “Are you coming?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Why not?”
“I told you,” I say. “I don’t need anything.”
“Nothing’s going to happen. Come on.”
What does he mean ‘nothing’s going to happen’? The way nothing happened yesterday? My heart starts to thump really hard and I have to put a hand to my chest to try and calm it. Just being down here again, remembering what it felt like when the lights went off, is making me anxious. I don’t want this to be another stupid prank.
“Come on,” he says again. The look on his face sort of feels comforting to me. Like he genuinely wants me to feel like he can protect me. Which is funny, because his soft jaw line and dimples don’t really say “strong protector guy”, but he still has this confidence about him. Something that tells me he’s sure about this one thing. I’m still not sure how I feel about him watching my back if the lights go out again, but I take a deep breath and walk towards him.
“So was I, like, the first girl to cry from that stupid prank?” I ask as I pull my English binder from the top shelf.
“Why won’t you believe me that it wasn’t a prank?”
I turn to him and stare into his dark eyes. “Because why else would Zac have disappeared so suddenly on me and then laughed about it?”
“It probably wasn’t him laughing. And he was there the whole time, you just couldn’t see him.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s really hard to explain. We usually don’t have to explain it to people who are past the believing stage.”
“What? You’re not making any sense.” I shut my locker door and swing my bag back over my shoulder.
“I know, I’m sorry. Just… I’ll try to explain it after school if you want. We could go get some food or something.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I might have plans.”
“With who, Zac?”
“Not necessarily.” I make my way out of the creepy hall and start towards our English class, with Chance still beside me. He’s walking a little close to me, but I don’t do anything about it. I figure he doesn’t realize that he’s doing it, so I try to pretend like I don’t notice.
“You know, Zac really isn’t the kind of guy you want to be hanging out with.”
“Oh? And who should I be hanging out with, then? You?”
“Well, not if you don’t want to.” He goes through the door to the stairwell and holds it open for me as I go through after him.
“You’re weird.”
“You said that already.” He smiles at me.
“Who should I be hanging out with, then?” I ask again.
“Anyone but him.”
“Are you jealous, Chance?”
I catch his jaw clench for a second, but then he shrugs and shakes his head. “No.”
“Well I like Zac.”
“Of course you do. Everyone does.”
We’ve stopped walking and are just standing there in the middle of the moving crowd of students, staring at each other. There’s something about him that makes me interested in him, but I’m afraid to dig any deeper into it and give him the wrong impression. I’ve never really had guy friends before, and I don’t know how you’re supposed to act around them. I’m afraid I’ll make him think that I might like him, even though I made it pretty clear that I was attracted to Zac.
“Were you running late yesterday, or are you trying to impress someone today?” I ask.
“What?”
“Your hair. It was just regular yesterday, and now you have this cool faux hawk going on.”
He smiles and his cheeks redden a little bit. Crap. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Now he’s going to think that I notice things about him.
“Nah, I just felt like trying something new,” he says. “I’m not sure if I like it.”
I feel like he’s waiting for me to tell him what I think. Like he wants me to say that I like it and he should keep it like that. “Hmm.” I’m too afraid to say the wrong thing now.
“Yeah.” He turns around pretty quickly and continues his way to our class, so I sigh, and follow him.
I go straight to my next class without going back to my locker. I try to tell myself it’s because it’ll take too long to get there and then to my next class on time, but I can’t stop thinking about the lights and the laughter. As much as it had to have been a prank, I keep thinking about how fast Zac disappeared. He was there, and then he was just gone, literally a second later. How was that possible? And then Chance being all weird and trying to explain it to me, and sounding like he’s crazy… Just thinking about it is starting to give me goose bumps.
My heart settles down a little bit when I see Zac in the same spot as yesterday. I get butterflies in my stomach and they even work their way up my throat, but it feels good. I haven’t had a crush on someone in a while, so I welcome the sweaty anxiety. At least for a little bit. Hopefully it’ll turn into something more than a crush soon. He smiles at me when I sit down, so I smile back, for some reason unsure of what to say to him.
“Hey,” he says.
Right. That’s a good one. “Hey,” I say.
“How was your first class?”
“Boring.”
“Same. You have any lunch dates?”
I twirl my pencil around in my fingers, trying to look cool as I try to come up with a cool answer. “Only with you.”
His smile grows and he leans back in his chair until it creaks.
“Careful,” I say.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says as he cups his hands on the back of his head. His t-shirt sleeve reveals a tattoo on his tricep, but he puts his arms down and gets back to work before I can get a good look at it.
We walk to the cafeteria together after class and he buys me a burger and fries. I thought that maybe we would go find his friends and sit with them, but he leads me back out to the hallway and sits down on a bench.
“We’re not going to eat at a table?” I ask.
“Nah, the caf is too noisy.”
“Well I don’t really like eating without a table, so I’m just going to find somewhere to sit in there.”
He has his burger half unwrapped and was about to take a bite, but is now just looking at me, holding his burger to his mouth.
“Sorry, I just find it annoying having to balance my food on my lap and everything,” I say, after he doesn’t reply.
“You ate out on the bleachers yesterday.”
“I know, but it was just pizza, and I didn’t want you to think I was weird.”
“But it’s ok if I think you’re weird today?”
I smirk a bit, but can’t think of anything clever to say.
“Alright, let’s go find a table in the caf,” he says.
I smile as he follows me through the doors.
I find a table by a window that doesn’t have anyone sitting at it, so I set my tray down at it and start picking at my food.
“It’s not that noisy,” I say, as Zac sits next to me.
“Yeah, but it’s less noisy in the hall.”
I take the bun off my burger and start to take the pickles off.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
I shrug. “I don’t like pickles.”
He makes a bit of a choking sound. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t like pickles.”
“That’s impossible. How do you not like pickles?”
“I don’t know, the same way that you do, I guess?”
“Pickles, like, complete a burger. You can’t eat a burger without pickles.”
“Well, I’m about to.” I smile, put the bun back on, and take a big bite. Zac says something to me, but I can’t hear it for some reason. I only see his mouth moving, and I try to ask him what’s going on, but I can’t seem to open my own mouth. I can’t even finish chewing the food that’s on my tongue. His mouth starts to move slower and slower, and his bottom lip starts to droop. I stare, frozen in place, as his cheeks get all saggy and start moving towards the table, like his skin is melting off his skull. Like, literally melting, like a liquefying wax mannequin in a burning museum. I want to scream, I want to jump away, I want to do anything, but I can’t, I can’t move. I’m stuck staring at Zac as his face falls apart, dripping into a puddle on the table like ice cream on a summer day.
Finally without warning, I scream, and am able to push my chair back, and the loud screech on the floor doesn’t even faze me. I jump up from my seat and back up into the window, screaming, but still staring at Zac. What’s happening? I want to run away, I want to leap through the cafeteria and run outside and run as far as I can and never come back, but I’m frozen again. My feet are planted to the floor and my knees are locked in place and I can’t even raise my arms to my face to cover my eyes. I want to cover my eyes. But I can’t, so I scream.
I scream.
Zac melts.
The next thing I know, I’m sitting on the floor with my knees brought up to my face and I’m screaming into my jeans, screaming so loud that it feels like my throat is going to start bleeding. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and it instantly pulls me from whatever crazy trance I was just in. I raise my face from my knees and see Chance kneeling beside me, his dark eyes trying to drown me.
“What’s happening to me?” I squeak.
“Do you want me to take you home?” he says softly, carefully.
I nod my head and he helps me to my feet. Once I’m standing, a big part of me wants to let go of his hand, but for some reason I can’t. I can’t let go. I bite my bottom lip and squeeze my fingers around his, not even looking at the people around me. Not even hearing Zac as he calls my name.
I’m still holding Chance’s hand when we step outside into the sunlight. I look down at it for a second and then at him. His face is so serious, so tight, like he’s been through a lot. He must have caught me looking at him because he smiles and turns to face me a little bit as we walk.
“Are you ok?” he asks.
I finally break my hand from his and stick it in the kangaroo pocket of my hoodie. “I don’t think so.”
“That’s allowed.”
We don’t say anything the whole rest of the walk to my house. I don’t even realize that’s where I’m going until we end up in my driveway. I really didn’t plan on bringing him back to my place with me, and even though he asked me if I wanted him to take me home, I really just thought we were going to go for a walk and then go back to school. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that that’s insane. How could I go back to school after I just watched someone’s face melt off? Or, no, after I thought I watched someone’s face melt off.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” We’ve been standing in my driveway for a good minute, just looking at my front door, and when he asks me that, I sort of jump a little.
“What?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you or anything…. Are you ok being alone or do you want me to go inside with you?”
“Um, well, I don’t know… I’m not… I don’t…” I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair. “I’m not really sure I understand what happened.”
“If I come in with you, I can tell you what happened.”
“Why, did you see what I saw in the caf?”
“Yeah, I caught the tail end of it.”
“You caught the tail end of it? What’s that supposed to mean?”
He lets out a breath and nods towards my door. I sigh and we go in.
I drop my bag on the floor and stomp up the stairs to my room, Chance at my heels the whole time. I don’t even think he’s planning some kind of romance set up when he shuts my bedroom door behind him. The look on his face is telling me he’s not even thinking of anything like that. So he probably doesn’t like me like that, and I was worrying earlier for nothing. I sit down on my bed and let out a really deep breath, and as soon as he sits next to me, I start crying. I didn’t even see it coming. I bury my face in my hands, and shake as the sobs come, loud and very unattractive. Chance keeps his spot beside me, but he doesn’t put a hand on my back or try to get me stop, or calm down. He just sits there letting me cry. He just sits there and waits until I finally take in a big breath and wipe my dripping nose with the back of my hand. He gets up a little bit and reaches across me to grab a tissue from the night stand – like I couldn’t get it myself, I mean, I’m closer – and then hands it to me.
“Thanks,” I say quietly. I rub the snot off my hand with it, and then blow my nose.
“You’re allowed to be confused, Becca.”
“Great, thanks.”
“I’m serious. It’s a lot to take in.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t know what it is that I’m taking in! What the hell happened!?”
“This is kind of hard for me to explain. And it’s going to sound crazy.” He sort of laughs a bit.
“Why is it going to sound crazy? If you think I’m going to think you’re crazy, then you can’t be explaining something that crazy to me, because what I saw today… what happened in the cafeteria… that’s as crazy as it gets.”
“What did you see?”
“What? I’m not telling you. You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“I promise I won’t think you’re crazy.”
“You said you saw the end of it. What did you see?”
He looks at me and I can see that he’s really concentrating on keeping eye contact with me. “Zac’s face melted off.”
I know I saw it happen. I saw his skin drip off his bones and onto the table like it was made of pudding, I saw it happen with my own two eyes, but when Chance says it, when he says the thing that I couldn’t believe was real…. I lose it. I back away from him on the bed, not because I’m afraid of him, but because I don’t know what else to do. Zac’s face really melted off? I scoot back on my bed as far as I can and cover my mouth with my hands, trying to hold back more screams. My eyes well up with tears and Chance is a blur through them, but he’s inching towards me. I shake my head, but he keeps coming closer. I tuck myself into the corner of the wall, and pull at my comforter to pull it over me, but Chance doesn’t let me. He grabs at the comforter and pulls it away from my face, so I tug on it, trying to pull it out of his grasp. He’s stronger than me, and rips it from my fingertips. I scream in frustration, confusion, anger, in fear. I try to tuck myself further into the wall that my bed is against, and when I can’t, Chance just gets even closer to me and presses his hand to my face. His warm hand on my cheek makes me feel a little uncomfortable, but the fact that he seems to understand what’s going on, makes it seem nice. I lean into his palm a bit, and he smiles just slightly.
“What’s happening to me?” I whisper.
He gently rubs his thumb on the side of my face, and I want to pull away from him but I don’t. “You’re becoming an Aura.”
“What’s an Aura?”
He leans back a bit, and pulls his hand away from my face. “An Aura is someone who creates dreams.”
“What?”
“I told you it would be hard to explain.”
"Well it doesn’t sound like you’re trying very hard,” I say.
He turns so that he’s sitting beside me instead of in front of me, and leans back against my head board. “Aura is the name for a person who is a part of the dream world. The dream world is called Rem, and it’s a place on Earth that only Auras can get to. Kind of like the magical parts of Earth in Harry Potter.”
He pauses and looks at me, I guess to see if I’m following. I’m not, but I sit there quietly, waiting for him to continue. After about 20 seconds of me not replying, he licks his lips and continues.
“Rem is the place that we Auras go, so that we can give people dreams. But there’s also a place called Dredd, and that’s where nightmares are given to people.”
“Wait, what?”
“Nightmares aren’t good for us. They’re actually really unhealthy.”
“Nightmares are unhealthy?”
He nods. “They cause stress, and stress related problems, they age people faster, increase the risk of heart attack, lots of things. I know it sounds silly when I say it, but it’s not. Nightmares are a very common part of dreaming, but they are much less common than regular dreams. And we have to keep it that way.”
“Keep it that way,” I repeat, very slowly.
“Yes.”
“I’m really not following you at all. I think I need to take a nap or something; this is insane.”
“Why don’t I show you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll show you the world, and maybe it will seem less intense.”
“What? You’re going to show me this crazy thing you’re trying to explain to me, and that will make it seem less intense?” I sit up and shake my hands back and forth a bit. “No. No way. You’re crazy. Just get out.”
“What?” He sounds shocked, like this was coming out of nowhere, but really, what did he expect? He’s telling me that I’m becoming some person who creates dreams, and that nightmares are unhealthy, and he expects me to just believe him?
“This is too crazy. I can’t take this anymore. You need to leave.”
“Becca, I’m sorry if I upset you, but I really don’t think that I should leave you alone right now.”
“Why, because I watched someone’s face melt off? If that really happened, then why was nothing happening? Why was I the only one freaking out, hmm? Why weren’t people running around, screaming and calling 911?”
“Because it didn’t really happen.”
“Ok, great, so I am crazy. And you’re crazy too.” I scoot across my bed on my bum to stand up, and fling my hair back over my shoulder. “Please leave.”
“Becca,” he says.
“Chance.”
“Becca, please. I want to help you.”
“You can help me by leaving.” Tears are starting to sting my eyes again and they blur my vision, but I manage to keep them from falling out and dripping down my face. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
“Fine.” He gets off my bed and stands real close to me, his sweet breath on my face. He’s about half a foot taller than me, and I refuse to bend my head back to look at him. I know his face is tilted down towards mine, and I can feel his breath on my lips, but I don’t meet his gaze. “See you at school,” he finally says, before taking a step back, and then turning and leaving my room.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I hear him shut the front door, and I climb into bed.
It’s dark outside when I wake up and my head feels a little heavy. I don’t feel like going downstairs to talk to my mom, but I want to talk to someone, so I take out my phone and start typing to the fake number I’ve always texted to when I wanted to talk.
Hey Adam. I feel like I’m going crazy. I wish you were here to keep me grounded. I wish I could talk to you about the things you used to talk to me about when we were little. I feel like you’re the only one who can help me through this right now. I need someone to tell me I’m not crazy. I need someone I know to tell me I’m not crazy. Not some guy I just met. I need you.
I hit send and throw my phone on my bed somewhere. I sigh and slowly get up but then I look back to my bed and grab my phone. I hold it in my hand and stare at the screen, at the sea of one way text messages. Messages from me to no one. I hold back the tears that I can feel trying to make their way to the surface and I get back into bed.
I met a really good looking guy. I’m sorry if that makes you angry, or makes you feel like you need to protect me. But I just wanted to tell you. I sort of wish you were here to see me go on my first date with someone. Finally. Even if it was so you could threaten to beat him up if he hurt me.
Send.
But then I met this other guy. And I thought at first that he liked me, but I don’t think he does. Which is good, because I don’t like him like that either. I just thought he liked me because he kept staring at me and then was all weirdly interested in me. But it’s because of some weird stuff that’s happening at school. Stuff I can’t explain except that it reminds me of the stuff you used to tell me when we were kids. The kind of stuff we stopped talking about once we stopped believing in Santa Claus.
Send.
I feel like I’m becoming a different person. I don’t want to be a different person.
Send.