Unseen

by Stephanie Erickson

  Maddie noticed my startled expression and raised her eyebrows at me. I looked over at her and smiled. “Just like old times,” I yelled loud enough for her hear me over the applause.

  When I looked back, they were gone. I convinced myself that I’d imagined it—that it had been some doppelganger of Mitchell’s rather than Mitchell himself—and a mixture of relief, disappointment, and unease settled in my gut.

  7.

  I went home on Friday, and then picked Maddie up at the train station Saturday morning for my graduation.

  On the drive to my school, she asked me a question she’d been chewing on for quite some time. I was kind of relieved when she finally spit it out—I was sick of listening to her go over it again and again in her head. “Is your aunt meeting us here?”

  “No, actually, when I tried to call her with the details, her phone had been disconnected. Who knows where she is. Finally free of me, I suppose.” I stared straight ahead, trying not to give any emotion away on my face. Truth was, despite our rocky relationship, I’d hoped she would be there. She was my only true family, and some twisted part of me wanted her to be proud of my accomplishment. But she hadn’t come when I’d walked for my bachelor’s degree either, so her absence wasn’t surprising. I was trying hard not to let my irritation progress to hurt.

  “What? Jesus, Mac. Are you worried about her?”

  I snorted. “No. She always said I was a drain, nothing but a waste. She’s just doing her thing now.”

  Maddie couldn’t let it go. “But, don’t you think she wanted to see you walk at all?”

  “Maddie, if she cared, she’d be here.”

  I thought back to the day my acceptance letter from FSU had arrived. It had been so exciting to have the path to my dreams laid out before me. But my aunt had been completely indifferent, and I’d been too young to know better than to let her steal my happiness.

  She skimmed my acceptance letter with cold grey eyes for no more than thirty seconds before lowering it. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “I…” I stammered, her reaction knocking the wind from my sails.

  “Is it going to cost me anything?”

  I stood up a little straighter. “No. Not if you don’t want it to. I’ll find a way to do it without you.”

  She threw the letter down onto the table between us. “Fine,” she said and went back to reading the newspaper. She didn’t waste even a single thought on the letter. I heard nothing in her mind but the words from the story she was reading.

  It wasn’t the first victory that she hadn’t shared with me, but it was my biggest. All at once, any remaining attachment I had to her was severed.

  “I hate you.” It wasn’t much more than a whisper, but I knew she’d heard me.

  Her cold gaze fell on me, but this time I was so hot with rage, I didn’t feel it. “And how do you think I feel about you, Mackenzie? You’ve stolen everything from me.” My whole life has been wasted on you, she thought as she glared at me. And then, silence.

  Of course, hate was a strong word that could be thrown around too often by teenagers. But at that moment, I meant it. And thinking back on our encounter, I didn’t regret my words. She made my life very difficult for those first few years on my own. I’d needed to scrape and scrounge to afford anything, even food, while she lived relatively comfortably in her middle-class home. I mean, she wasn’t taking luxury trips every weekend, but she did have clothes on her back and food on her table. I usually went over to Maddie’s on the weekends just to get a good meal.

  I sighed as I pulled into a parking space in front of the auditorium. All of that was behind me. My aunt could be part of my life or not, as she chose. I had decided long ago not to waste any more tears on her. Besides, I had a world of opportunity ahead of me. Why waste time looking back?

  The ceremony was a little long this time around. My third time walking for a diploma was a bit bittersweet. All the other times, I knew there was more school ahead. But this time, as Professor Peterson smiled and handed me the dummy diploma, I felt like she was passing the baton, and I was gearing up for the longest leg of the relay: Life.

  After the ceremony, Maddie and I went to dinner to celebrate. It was a fairly nice sit-down restaurant, and Maddie insisted it would be “her treat.” I felt guilty about allowing her to pay, since she still couldn’t afford a car, but she was adamant.

  She raised her glass. “To the graduate and the next phase of her life!”

  I clinked my wine against hers. “To the next phase!”

  She took a sip. “Speaking of which, any leads yet?”

  “No solid ones. I’ve got applications in with Leon and Orange counties, and a few with the surrounding counties too.”

  “With the county? What does that mean?”

  “It sounds like I’d be a roaming therapist for all the schools in the county. It’s not really in the state budget to have a single therapist per school, which is what I’d really like to do since it would let me focus on individual kids. This way, I’ll have thousands of kids to sort through. It’ll be a lot.”

  She took a bite of pasta. “Mmm. But, it’ll be work.”

  “Yes. It’ll be work.”

  “So nothing in the private sector?”

  “Not yet, but I’m hopeful. I have a fair amount of feelers out. Can you imagine if I landed a job like that? Think of the resources I’d have at my disposal.”

  “Not to mention that the pay would be much better. You know, it’ll take forever for you to save up enough to own your own practice if you work for the school system for a long time.”

  “Yeah, I know. If I get a job with them, I’ll have to change my mindset a little. It would be a challenge. But, I always like a challenge. As long as I could still do some good, I’d be happy.”

  Maddie raised her glass to that, with one last sip of wine inside. “To doing some good!”

  I smiled. “To doing some good.”

  I walked out to the car while Maddie was in the bathroom, thinking I’d get the air started.

  The overwhelming feeling that I was being watched made me miss a step. Goose bumps that were becoming too familiar formed along my arms, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I scanned the area, and my eyes landed on a guy about a hundred paces ahead of me. Leaning against the streetlight, he was looking right at me with a bit of a smirk on his face. It was the guy from Muldoon’s, the one I’d seen with Mitchell. I couldn’t believe it.

  Discreetly, I reached into my purse and turned my iLs off, to see if he was a threat or if he was just being a guy. I kept walking toward him, but I still didn’t hear anything. Forgetting the potential threat, I stared openly at this person I couldn’t read—the second in a matter of weeks. He stared back, the smirk never leaving his face.

  Who were these guys and why did they seem to be following me?

  As I got closer, I realized his expression wasn’t threatening. In fact, he was gorgeous. The attraction was immediate and overwhelming in a way that caught me off guard. Only a little taller than I was, he had dark, wavy hair, chocolate eyes, and beautiful olive skin. He was dressed in loose-fitting jeans and a T-shirt that read, “Can you hear me now?”

  I chuckled when I read it. Just as I was about to open my mouth to say hello to him, he moved to leave, walking in the opposite direction of me. When he brushed past me, we almost touched. My skin tingling at the mere thought of making contact with him, I stopped in my tracks and watched him go. Never had I been so attracted to, and confounded by, anyone in my life, let alone a complete stranger. It made him all the more intriguing.

  I nearly called out to him as I watched him walk away, but my mind was still struggling to form an appropriate comment when he rounded the corner and disappeared.

  Had I suddenly lost the ability to read minds? I had gone through my entire life with the ability to hear everyone, whether I wanted to or not, and now I’d met two men I couldn’t read at all. On top of that, I couldn’t shake the feelin
g that the guy had known I couldn’t hear him. The image of his shirt flashed through my mind again.

  I dug around in my purse for my keys. My hand landed on what felt like a business card. I pulled it out, thinking it was just some junk I’d jammed in there, but I didn’t recognize it at all.

  In the center of a completely white card, it said Unseen. On the back was an address. That was it. Simple. Mysterious. Irresistible.

  I flipped the card over several times as I settled myself in the driver’s seat, each time irrationally hoping I’d find more information.

  Unseen. What the heck does that mean? Is it some cult or something? I jammed the keys in the ignition and turned the air on full blast with one hand as I continued to turn the card with the other. Where had I even picked it up? It seemed like the sort of thing I’d remember. Could he have dropped it in my purse when he walked by? The thought was as exciting as it was alarming.

  I dug my phone out of my purse and typed the address on the back of the card into Google maps. It wasn’t all that far from here, maybe five minutes away, and it appeared to be in the industrial district.

  What could be in the industrial district? I wondered.

  “Predators who lure women with strange, uninformative business cards, that’s what.” It was exactly what Maddie would say to me if I gave her the chance. Quickly, I glanced around for her. I didn’t want her to catch me with the card. It would just lead to questions. Ones I didn’t have answers to at the moment. Questions that would inevitably lead me to the address on the back of the white card, whether it was the smart decision or not.

  I couldn’t let this go. What if this was my chance to find out more about these strange men I couldn’t hear? I couldn’t possibly waste this second chance after the way I’d blown my opportunity to question Mitchell.

  Hurriedly, I jammed the card back into my purse and tossed it on the floor of the passenger’s side before Maddie came back.

  I needed answers. And I was going to get them.

  8.

  Maddie and I parted ways in the morning. I’d originally asked her to stay all day on Sunday, but she wanted to get back to catch up on some grades and lesson plans.

  “Some of us aren’t lucky enough to be done with school already,” she said as she loaded her things into my car. I’d offered to drive her home, but she’d insisted on taking the train, saying she’d use the time to get a head start on her grading.

  Once we got to the station, I helped her carry her bags to the platform and gave her a hug. “Have a safe trip home. I’ll call you soon.”

  “You better. We need to plan our summer. It might be your last summer of freedom!”

  “God willing.”

  “Congratulations, Mac,” she said, holding my hand for a few more moments. “I’m so proud of you.”

  Not many people had ever said those words to me and meant them. Lord knows my aunt never said anything that might be misconstrued as praise or encouragement. Professor Peterson had, which made me feel good in a hey-I-pleased-my-mentor kind of way, but this was different. This was the kind of fulfillment you got when someone in your family saw you struggle, stood by you through it all, and watched you come out on the other side.

  I managed a weak smile. “Thanks.”

  She smiled, and then broke the emotional tension quickly. “Oh, please. Don’t tell me the ironclad box that holds Mackenzie Day’s emotions has been cracked by one small compliment.”

  I laughed and pushed her. “No. Certainly not a weak compliment like that one.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She hugged me one last time. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Can’t wait,” I said.

  I didn’t go home. Instead, I typed the address on the back of the mysterious, white card into my phone and followed the instructions from my GPS app.

  After about twenty minutes of driving, my phone chirped, “Arriving at address 1817 Capital Circle Northwest, on the left.”

  “This can’t be right,” I said to no one in particular. The building I parked in front of was long and narrow, with metal, rolling doors all along the front. I walked to the door marked 1817, but it seemed vacant. There were no signs or lights to indicate any form of life existed in the building. My car was the only one in the lot.

  I looked at my watch. 11:30 am on a Sunday. Maybe they were closed. My phone chimed as I walked back to my parking spot.

  It was a text from Maddie. I leaned against my car to read it. Grading papers sucks. Wish you were here. What are you up to? Get home okay?

  What could I tell her? Oh, I’m just at an abandoned warehouse all by myself, waiting to be murdered.

  Laughter interrupted my thoughts. “I don’t think anyone’s going to murder you out here in broad daylight. Although, I’ve been wrong before.”

  Startled, I whirled around to find the gorgeous guy from the restaurant leaning against the metal door. So, I’d guessed correctly—he was the one who’d put the card in my purse. I wasn’t sure if I was excited to see this handsome man again, or if the fog of mystery surrounding the whole situation made me leery of him. But as I looked at him, his eyes crinkled with laughter, excitement was winning.

  Realizing I’d been staring at him for a beat too long, I spit out the first thing that came to mind.

  “Where did you come from?” I could have asked so many questions. Who are you? Why were you at Muldoon’s that night? How come I can’t read your mind? Did you just read my mind? Can I be your girlfriend forever? Apparently, my mind had gone for the least pressing one.

  “Inside.”

  “Okay, well, I assumed you came from inside. I mean, I know you didn’t teleport.”

  He flashed the same sly smile that had slayed me the night before, making it very difficult for me to keep my wits. “Do you want to come in?”

  To my life, my arms, my bed? I mentally finished for him. I thought I heard him cough, but I couldn’t be sure.

  I took a deep breath, struggling for composure. “I don’t know. This is all very creepy and cloak and dagger. Are you going to pull my fingernails off or something?”

  “Huh. No one’s ever asked me that before.”

  “Right. Not reassuring me.”

  He chuckled, and the sound made my knees weak.

  “No, we won’t pull your fingernails off.”

  “We?”

  “Well, I didn’t bring you here for a one-on-one conversation, if that’s what you thought.”

  “I know. It’s not a date.” Dear God, why did you say that? He wasn’t implying it was a date. Idiot.

  “Okay,” he said. “Well, I’m going back inside. You can chill in the parking lot if you want, or you can come with me to find out a bit about who we are. It’s not really a life-or-death choice.”

  My phone chimed again, but I ignored it. “I’m coming.”

  He shut the outer glass door behind him, then pulled a heavy metal door down behind that, and turned a giant lock on it, almost like a bulletproof safe.

  Once inside, we almost immediately descended a staircase. “Okay, the metal door and basement thing aren’t exactly making me feel better about this whole situation. Is all that so no one can hear me screaming?”

  “Didn’t you see how empty the parking lot was?” he said, turning to smile at me. “Who would hear you?”

  “Man, I hope I get to look back on this and laugh at your jokes, but right now, they’re creeping me out in a big way.”

  He stopped two steps from the bottom. For a split second, I thought he was going to off me right then and there. Then he burst out laughing. “Would you relax? We’re not going to kill you!”

  “I…” I paused, confused. “I don’t think I said anything about that.”

  He descended the last two stairs, and I followed. “Not in so many words.”

  “But, I… what?”

  He rounded the corner and ushered me into a large room. I reached for my iLs and panicked a little when I realized I’d left it in the car, alon
g with my purse.

  “Welcome,” he said, holding out his arm.

  There were about fifteen people, close to my age—give or take ten years—seated on couches, chairs, or the floor. Mitchell was among them, but he avoided eye contact with me as I glanced around the room. The rest of the men and women were looking straight at me. Some smiled; some showed no emotion at all. None of them said a word. I braced myself for their incoming thoughts, but nothing came.

  The silence was overwhelming. My breath started coming faster as a sense of panic settled in. I’d never been without my iLs in a room filled with so many people without hearing a single voice in my head. After years of wishing for silence, it was surprisingly unsettling now that I had it. Deafening, even. Maybe I’ve gone deaf.

  “You’re not deaf,” the gorgeous guy said.

  “I… what?”

  “Or maybe you are. You’ve been saying ‘what’ a lot lately.”

  A few people chuckled, and I looked at them as if they were aliens. What was happening here? Why couldn’t I hear anyone? And what was the deal with this guy? Was he really reading my mind? Was it too much to hope there was someone else in this world like me?

  “Oh, for God’s sake. Put her out of her misery already, O. I can’t listen to all these questions anymore,” a blonde girl sitting Indian style on the floor called out.

  She can’t listen to all these questions…

  “If she doesn’t have a panic attack soon, I might have one just from listening to her,” someone on the couch said.

  “Mackenzie, maybe you should sit down.” The gorgeous guy—O, apparently—gestured toward an open seat.

  “I’m fine, thank you.” My eyes darted from person to person, and then landed on Mitchell, silently pleading for answers, reassurance, anything. He looked away, obviously uncomfortable.