by Platt, Sean
Mako laughed.
Noella wished her heart didn’t beat faster every time she was around Sam. She hated crushing on her best friend. It made for way too many awkward moments. But the longer she knew him, the more she felt for him. In a world of jerks, jocks, and creepers, Sam was like no other guy she knew.
First, he was cute, with a light complexion and a thick mop of long brown hair that matched his eyes. He wasn’t exactly a hottie, but he had the cutest dimples, kindest smile, and the best insides of anyone she knew. Sam was also artistic, with an eye for color that made Noella long to know the world through someone else’s eyes. And to round out the package, he was also funny, hysterical really, with a wry, observational wit that made Noella sigh.
The most unbelievable thing about Sam, however, was that despite being a nice guy, and incredibly smart and talented, he was also semi-popular. Guys as authentic as Sam weren’t generally popular, at least not in her school. Usually, being popular involved some kind of brain transplant with chimps. And not even the smart chimps, but rather the ones that spent their days flinging poop.
Noella was sure Sam would’ve been one of the school’s crowned elite if not for the completely ridiculous whispers that he might be gay. While his questionable sexuality didn’t hurt him in drama club, where he really shined, there was a strong undercurrent of homophobia and racism among the most popular guys. If they ever found reason to believe Sam was gay, he’d be an outcast just like Noella in a matter of hours.
Thinking of Sam made her smile a big, goofy grin. And a big, goofy grin was as out of place on Noella as it would be on Eeyore.
Mako caught the grin, and laughed, “Yeah, you don’t like him at all.”
“No!” Noella said, lying to Mako and herself.
Not liking Sam would be infinitely easier in the long run. She’d feel less awkward. She’d feel less vulnerable. And it would remove the constant question in the back of her head: When will Sam leave me?
She would never voice the fear out loud, but a small part of her was certain that Sam would eventually grow even more popular and turn his back on her just like Becca had done. And it was this part of her, the fear, that made her sorta glad people thought he was gay. After all, if he climbed too high up the social ladder, he’d no longer have time for her. She felt awful thinking like that, but couldn’t help her genuine feelings.
The bus pulled to the curb, and Noella and Mako climbed up the stairs. As they searched for seats, hisses and whispers snaked throughout the bus.
“Lesbos.”
“Who let her out of the psych ward?”
“She’s nuttier than an Almond Joy.”
“Oh, look, Scarella crawled out of her coffin.”
As she and Mako found a seat toward the front of the bus, pretending not to hear the venim, Noella realized she was wrong. She would much rather go to school feeling like a vagrant, with frizzy hair and a layer of filth, even being driven by Randy.
Almost anything was better than the girls on the bus.
**
Noella opened her locker and pulled her Biology AP book from inside, then dropped it into her black battered book bag, which she swung over her shoulder. She slammed her locker shut, pretending she was doing so on one of the bus bitch’s heads.
Sam appeared from behind, “You seem mad.”
Noella looked back, surprised to see him. “Not mad,” she said, “just sadly angry.”
“Ah, didn’t notice the distinction,” Sam said with a smile.
His charm won over her desire to stay in a bad mood.
Noella laughed. “Besides, I don’t do mad. I’m a happy, smiley girl. All sunshine and rainbows.”
Sam looked at the patches adorning her backpack, skulls, broken hearts with razor blades, monsters, and other cool designs she’d gathered over the years, and arched an eyebrow and laughed.
God, I love his smile.
Sam said, “Do you have birthday plans for tomorrow?”
Noella shook her head, “Not that I know of. Why?”
“Wanna go somewhere? My treat, and I promise not to make you look at any of my drawings, either. We could do a movie and dinner. I’ll even let you drag me to that godawful chick flick that just came out.”
“I love your drawings,” Noella said. “That’s your own insecurities. But a movie sounds awesome, and because it’s my birthday, that means you have to pick!” She tingled at the thought of even a half-date with Sam. He probably didn’t like her in the same way that she liked him, not with Becca and the rest of the gaggle fawning over him all the time.
But what if he does?
There probably wasn’t a better day on the calendar than her birthday to find out. If she made a fool of herself, she could at least blame it on the sappiness of her birthday or something.
“Cool,” he said. “Do you want to leave right from school? I already asked if I can borrow the car.”
Oh wow! He even planned in advance!
Her heart started to flutter, and she tried to keep it from pasting a stupid smile on her face.
“I’ll let you know. Gotta check with my aunt, make sure she didn’t plan dinner or anything. If so, we’ll have to just do the movie.”
“Ah, gotcha,” Sam smiled, “Okay, text me and let me know tonight. I’ve gotta get to class. See ya,” he said and gave her a hug.
He smells yummy.
She melted in his hold, then quickly recovered, hoping nobody saw the stupid smile she couldn’t keep from her face as she turned and practically skipped to biology class.
**
Mr. Mahr was a vibrant teacher who paced the class and used all of his body when he talked. He made biology fun for Noella; well, as fun as any class could be.
Yet as much as she liked science and appreciated Mr. Mahr, she was also tired. Noella only lasted a few minutes in class before her eyelids grew heavy. With no space between one moment and the next, she felt herself fall, then jolted awake, shocked to find she was no longer in Mr. Mahr’s class.
The room was the same, but different, as if she’d woken in some future dark and decayed version of her classroom. Desks were strewn in gargantuan splinters. Dust motes floated on long slants of sunlight streaming through holes in the windows, which had been blacked out with dark brown paint, or . . . blood. And the walls and roofs were missing huge chunks, replaced by shadows and debris.
Noella gasped, then cried out.
Oh, God, not again.
She hadn’t had a hallucination in more than a year, ever since Dr. Foster put her on the new pills. And she hadn’t had one in school since the incident two years ago.
No, no, no.
She turned, trying to find her way back to reality, trying to remember what Dr. Foster had instructed her to do when she had another episode.
“Sit down and close your eyes. Focus on something positive. Relax.”
She couldn’t sit down, as the chairs were all destroyed. So she stood and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the crumbling world pressing in around her.
The thing about hallucinations, or at least the ones she had, was that they weren’t like the movies where someone would realize they were hallucinating and then boom, they’d stop, and reality would show itself again.
It was much harder than that for Noella. She likened it to trying to wake up, but being under a powerful sedative. Or perhaps, a more accurate description would be like trying to force yourself to fall asleep. The harder you tried, the harder it was.
Finding her way back to the real world required intense concentration, while shutting out her growing fear.
She listened for something that would tether her to the real world, the sound of a classmate, or Mr. Mahr, or even the sound of the school’s air conditioning, anything she could mentally grab to pull herself back.
But the world around her was quiet, save for the creaking of the dilapidated structure sounding like it might collapse on her at any minute.
She strained to listen above the groans
of the building. And that’s when she heard the faint sound of whispers. She tried to tune in the whispering, turn it up in her head, and follow it back to reality. She struggled to make out words, or identify the voice. She needed to get a handle on who it was or what they were saying, or she’d be unable to follow it back to reality.
The whispers grew louder, indecipherable, but made up of many voices, all seeming to speak in another language.
She focused until they coalesced into one voice.
“I’ve found you,” the sinister voice whispered.
Noella’s eyes shot open and she saw that she was no longer alone.
Crawling through the wreckage of the classroom, surfacing from the shadows of the rubble, and into the beams of sunshine, were two of the creatures.
The creatures that had haunted her dreams and waking nightmares for years, were back after a year’s absence.
The nude, emaciated monsters looked like something out of old photos she’d seen of concentration camp corpses, sunken features, bones pushing sharp through pale skin. Like ghosts of humans, but these things weren’t human, at least fully formed humans. For one, they had no genitals. And instead of eyes, their eyelids had been sewn shut with dark cord. And then there were their claws, long jagged crags of fingernails curling like commas at their fingertips.
The worst thing about these things, though, was their mouths. The skin had been peeled away, exposing bone and sharp, rotting teeth that looked ready to tear into flesh.
The two monsters shuffled through the room, inching their way toward Noella, raising their noses as if trying to pick up her scent. They sniffed like dogs, in quick bursts, as they drew closer, arms fumbling blindly in the darkness searching for her.
Noella whimpered loudly and stumbled back, her foot getting tangled in debris. She slipped and fell back, landing hard on her ass.
A razored talon wrapped around Noella’s arm, and its bony finger dug into her flesh. The thing whispered, dozens of voices impossibly coming from its mouth, none of them making sense.
“Nooooo!” she screamed, breaking free and crawling back on all fours as they rushed at her. Though the rational part of her brain told her that none of this was real, the rest of her body was convinced that if these things killed her in her dream, she’d die in the real world.
Must get away.
The monster closest to her, swung its clawed hand at her face, coming within inches of slicing her. She screamed and pushed herself back and something hard slammed into her back.
She turned and looked up, suddenly blinded by light as the decrepit room around her vanished and was replaced by her classroom and classmates.
She was on the floor, her back up against Evan Harrison’s chair, with every eye in the classroom glued to her.
“Oh God,” she said, swallowing her ridicule as laughter erupted.
Mr. Mahr rushed to her side and helped her up.
“Are you okay?”
Becca and Vicky, who sat in the row behind her, were staring at her as if she’d stripped nude and ran through the classroom starting fires.
Noella wanted to melt into the floor. Hide in the closet, climb in the sewer, anything. She hadn’t lost herself like that since the incident. She looked around in a panic, making sure she hadn’t hurt anyone.
Everything seemed normal, except for herself, of course.
“I’m fine,” she said, and then, feeling the scrutiny of the entire class, she decided that she had to get out of there. Now.
“I need to see the nurse,” Noella said. She grabbed her bag and left the classroom before Mr. Mahr had a chance to write a permission slip.
Noella bypassed the nurse’s office, and instead went to the girl’s room closest to her classroom, then into the farthest stall, and sat on the toilet and collapsed into tears.
She’d thought these pills were working. She should’ve known something was wrong a few weeks ago when the nightmares started coming back. She tried to tell herself that they were just regular nightmares like everyone else had. It wasn’t like they were bleeding into her real life like they had done for so much of her childhood. Nor had she heard any of the voices that usually came with them. Other than the nightmares, things had been okay.
Until now.
Why did the pills stop working?
Dr. Foster spent months experimenting with different pills until they found one that both worked, and didn’t leave her feeling like a zombie. The pills had been a godsend, allowing her to live a somewhat normal life for the first time in years. But now, for some reason, they just stopped working.
She’d have to go back to Dr. Foster. More tests, more scans, and more medication.
Another six months of being a guinea pig, hoping they’d find a way to make her feel normal again. She should’ve known better.
Normal died 10 years ago.
**
Somewhere on the way from the bathroom and to the nurse’s office, Noella had a change of heart.
She decided that so long as Mr. Mahr didn’t tell anyone, neither would she. And maybe she could avoid telling Josie and Randy, also. Because the last thing she wanted in her senior year, was to become a walking zombie again.
So she’d just keep today’s episode to herself, and hope she didn’t have another incident that would get her locked up.
**
Though she might be able to keep the biology class freakout from her family, the school was another story.
As she went from class to class, whispers grew louder and the pointing more obvious. People gave her a wide berth in the hallway, and she could practically hear them thinking, “Oh no, Noella’s gonna blow.”
Gym was mercifully quiet, and as Noella was changing from her gym shorts to her jeans, she began to think that maybe people would just drop the matter. Then the unique cruelty of locker room laughter slapped her in the face.
The echoing giggles came from a clustered circle at the end of her row of lockers, half the girls in the class gathered, staring at something Noella couldn’t see. The other half were looking up, staring at her as she approached the circle, some pointing and all of them laughing.
It was Vicky in the middle – Becca’s new B.F.F., a bleach blonde cheerleader who was as vicious as she was beautiful – passing her cell phone from girl to girl. Noella knew what was on the video, even before she heard herself screaming. Funny, she hadn’t even noticed Vicky recording her when she had her little episode during Biology.
That bitch!
Noella had no idea how long the video was, but one of the girls, Jenny, had it in her hands and was scrubbing the player back and forth and filling the locker room with Noella’s screaming on repeat.
Mako was rounding the opposite row of lockers, coming from the restroom. Vicky turned toward her, took the phone back from Jenny, then held it up for Mako to see.
“Look, Mako, your best friend is on YouTube!” Vicky held the phone up and pressed play.
The Noella in the video screamed.
“You delete that!” Mako shouted, stepping into the huddle until she was just inches from Vicky’s face.
“Or what?” Vicky said, taking a step forward. She was easily six inches taller than Mako, and athletic while Mako was petite. The number of girls swelled around them at the prospect of a fight.
Noella ran to Mako. “Forget about it,” she said, pulling Mako from the crowd. “This bitch isn’t worth it.”
Noella turned and walked back to her locker, holding Mako’s hand behind her. They made it halfway there when Vicky said, “I bet they’re gonna sneak back to the showers together. Boys don’t want them, but at least they have each other! She love her long time!”
Vicky laughed hysterically. The chorus of sheeple echoed her mania, and the cork finally popped from years of Noella’s bottled rage.
Noella’s fists curled into balls, her lip twitched, and she could feel the rage stirring deep in her gut. An inhuman growl fled her lips as she turned toward Vicky, then ran at her s
creaming, knocking her cell phone to the floor, and punching her hard in the face.
“Becca’s not here to save you this time,” Vicky screamed, rubbing the splotch of crimson on her left cheek for a second before shoving Noella back and into the lockers. As Noella fell back, Vicky jumped her.
They fell to the ground, swinging, scratching, and kicking as the girls around them shouted, “FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!!!”
The crowd receded, giving the girls room to roll around on the floor, as an evil trinity of Vicky’s girls held Mako’s arms and kept her from jumping in or stopping the fight.
But no one was holding Coach Carla, who rushed at the girls and pulled them off one another and split them apart. Coach Carla tossed them each toward opposite lockers, and yelled at the other girls to get to class.
Vicky had a nasty bruise on her left cheek, and a good scratch right next to it. The back of Noella’s head throbbed where Vicky had landed two punches, but other than some hair pulling, Vicky hadn’t hurt her too bad. If there was a winner of this fight, it was Noella by a landslide.
Though, whatever pride she felt at getting a few good hits in faded when she saw Coach Carla’s eyes.
Coach Carla gave Noella a sympathetic look, and Noella wasn’t sure which stung worse — the look of pity, or the look of disappointment which followed. Coach Carla sent them both to the dean’s office.
**
Noella was silent as Dean Dinnen read her the riot act, and simply nodded when he asked if Coach Carla’s story was true. Per school policy, Noella was sent back out to the office to wait for her parent or guardian.
Vicky’s mom appeared just before sixth period, petting the back of her daughter’s head and showering her with baby talk, while shooting Noella the evil eye as if to say, “How dare you hit my precious baby?”
Noella had to wait until 45 minutes after the final bell for Josie and Randy to show.
Josie’s eyes were bloodshot and leaking, though it probably had a lot more to do with her near-constant sneezing and rattling cough than the call from the dean. If anything, Josie seemed sad and slightly hollow, silently sorry for the life of misery Noella was forced to endure. But there was also a look of relief when the dean told her about the fight. Noella wasn’t sure why, but the dean failed to mention what started the fight — an almost repeat of the incident, which must’ve been a huge relief to Josie.
