Mom’s car pulled up across the street from a newspaper machine. The news was old, but my mother was collecting newspapers for the class she was teaching tomorrow. Although she had long since stopped working in order to take care of me, she occasionally subbed for other teachers in the school district. I remembered that she was teaching sixth graders that week, and she was bringing newspapers for her unit on writing eyewitness articles.
She had no idea that she would be in them the next day.
A painful sob woke me. It was my sob. Here I was again, waking up crying. I prayed that I hadn’t woken Dad. My door was still closed and I heard no sounds outside my door. Thank you, God, I thought.
It was awhile before I fell asleep again; I kept seeing the strange woman’s scowl and the deadly look in her eyes. But when I finally did sleep, it was dreamless.
Minions
“So, throw me a bone, would you?” pleaded Ruthie. She was asking about Isaac, and about what had happened when she’d dropped me off after school yesterday. It was fun making her wait. She got so worked up. But I couldn’t keep her in suspense any longer. The thing was, I just couldn’t work up the excitement I had felt yesterday when Isaac asked me to the dance. Today, it was overshadowed by a sense of apprehension. I didn’t understand it. Part of me wondered if I should have said no.
“Well, what if I said nothing happened?” I dragged it out a little longer.
Ruthie finally relented. “Well, I guess I read the situation differently,” she mused. We were driving to school, and cutting it close to bell time. “My skills are seriously slacking. I could have sworn I saw some situation manipulation happening there in the backseat. Plus that whole kissing chase the other day. I mean, geez! And what was up with you two in the backseat, anyway? He’s been hitting on you for days!”
“What?” Should I have figured that out? I wondered. “I thought Phoebe called shotgun again?”
“Oh, please! Shotgun? The guy’s as big as Sasquatch! Phoebe would not have made him sit in the back if he didn’t want to.”
So much for being the smart kid in class. I sighed. “Well, what if I said your skills are right on?”
We were just pulling into the school parking lot. Ruthie gasped and whipped into a parking place so quickly I braced myself for impact. Note to self: Don’t surprise Ruthie while she’s driving!
“What the freak is wrong with you!” she practically screamed at me, but with no real anger. She smiled smugly. “I knew it. Come on, give up the goods. Right now, or I’ll keep you here until you do.” The door locks clicked. I rolled my eyes. She was so over the top sometimes!
“Okay, okay. He asked me to Homecoming.” The words rushed out of my mouth. “And I said yes. Now can we get to class? I don’t want to be late!”
“Homecoming? Wow, that boy works fast. I should have seen it coming. I mean, dang, girl, you are fine this year, and the wolves were totally circling yesterday.” I laughed, but she continued, “Isaac is a smart boy. Realized he’d have to jump on it to beat the others.”
“Ha! Others! Whatever!” I smacked her on the shoulder. “Let’s go!”
She unlocked the doors and we hurried off to class with her peppering me with comments like “So, how did he ask?” “You are so lucky!” “Val better ask me!” “We can go dress shopping together!” and on and on. But I wasn’t into it—couldn’t think about it right now.
I was still freaking out inside about last night’s dreams. They had felt so real, yet, of course, they couldn’t be. And that woman’s face haunted me. So familiar, but… Who was she? Or was she really someone at all? Could she be some random face from last year? Because, I didn’t remember it very well at all. Was I finally losing my mind just when everything seemed to be getting better? All these thoughts flitted through my mind, and I barely heard Ruthie as she rattled on.
Our lunch table was crowded. Isaac, Phoebe, and Ruthie were the usual. But now Val’s football buddy, Jake, had joined us. Jake was so blatant in his attempts at flirting with Phoebe, I was ready to throw up right then and there. If he said how beautiful she was one more time, I was going to join Bobby’s table again. And if Zander showed up to join the Phoebe adoration club, I was really leaving.
Isaac seemed to share my sentiments. He was openly glaring at Jake, and I was afraid he was going to punch him or something if I didn’t redirect his attention.
“Uh, Isaac, what exactly did you do this summer, anyway? Phoebe said something about camping, right?” Isaac turned to me. Bingo. Mission accomplished. Danger averted. But suddenly I was remembering my conversation with Ruthie before school. As I looked into his brown eyes, I thought, He really is one of the most good-looking guys at our school. I can’t believe he asked me to Homecoming!
Isaac turned his back on the flirting across from us, leaning his shoulder against the table, an elbow resting on its surface between us. I felt a little mesmerized, and a smile spread across my lips.
“Our family always goes camping deep in the forest, well away from any trails used by hu—uh, hikers. Do you like camping?” he asked.
“Well,” I paused, “I don’t know. My mom didn’t like it, so we never went.” I felt a hitch in my throat, remembering Mom. Isaac must have seen the pain flicker across my face, because he took up the conversation quickly.
“Yeah, we go a lot. Always have. We hit the beach, too. We just love this area, you know. So much of everything close by. Anyway, it’s also a pretty cheap vacation, too, which my parents love.” He laughed.
I wondered if Isaac’s family worried about money. He didn’t seem to be lacking anything. He and Phoebe didn’t wear the most expensive brands, but their clothes always looked nice. Who was I kidding? They would look good in rags.
“It’s more than I did this summer. We stayed home and I got a job at the recreation center,” I said.
“Cool,” he said. “What did you do there?”
“Sometimes I worked at the front desk. But most of the time I lifeguarded and helped with youth basketball.”
“Wow! I didn’t know you were a swimmer.” He looked amazed. I thought I knew why. If most of his impression of me was based on last year, he must have thought I was a boring lump of clay. I looked down shyly at my lap.
“Yeah, I was on a swim team since I was a kid. Actually, I was in a lot of sports before, well, before…” I shrugged, my eyes still in my lap.
“I’m not surprised,” said a familiar voice from the base of the maple tree. Somewhere during our lunch, Zander must have snuck in and staked out his old spot by the tree. “You look like an athlete to me,” he continued.
Isaac growled slightly, and the entire lunch table paused to look over at Zander. Phoebe looked especially pleased to see him.
A blush stole over my cheeks at his words. What did he mean? Did I look strong like an ox or fit like an aerobics instructor? Athletic like David Beckham or athletic like Anna Kournikova? I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I just smiled hesitantly at him and said, “Hey. I saw you after school the other day. Who was that giving you a ride out of here?”
“Oh him. That was just my brother.” So they were related. He pulled out an apple and took a bite. He always seemed to have an apple for lunch.
“Always an apple, huh?” I said, for lack of a smarter comment to make. I cringed inwardly at my poor attempt to make conversation. Seeing him again made my mind a little numb.
“You know what they say, apple a day…blah…blah…blah…”
“Tru has never been sick a day in her life,” blurted Ruthie.
Now everyone looked at me. My face heated up again.
“Really?” said Phoebe. “That would be pretty amazing. You probably don’t remember being sick, though,” she rationalized.
“Nope,” said Ruthie. “I’ve known her almost my entire life, and she’s never been sick—not even a cold. It’s so not fair.” My eyes were “shushing” her, but she just wasn’t getting it. “She pretended to be sick a couple times, so we could sk
ip school, but, yeah, pretty awesome.”
Ruthie just didn’t know when to stop.
Everyone was looking at me. I could almost hear what they were thinking: Weirdo! I couldn’t believe my best friend had told everyone something so private—well, private to me. I understood that she didn’t realize I hated that kind of attention. I knew she thought it was cool. But deep down inside I knew it was one more thing that set me apart from normal, like seeing in the dark. I knew I was overreacting, but I couldn’t help it. I was so uncomfortable, I started to gather my things to leave. Only seconds had passed, but they felt like minutes to me—minutes of others staring at me like I was under a microscope.
Ruthie finally caught on to the fact that she had put her foot in her mouth. I could see it in her face. But what could she say now to fix it?
“You think that’s cool?” Isaac’s hands held me in place. “I won the hot dog eating contest in Santa Cruz this year.”
“It’s true,” said Phoebe. “And my parents forced me to stay and watch. I think it’s the first time he’s ever been full!” She chimed with laughter. “Seriously, he could eat a horse!” Her eyes twinkled at Isaac, and something unsaid passed between them.
I settled back down as the attention moved away from me. Isaac’s bragging had set off Val and Jake, who went off about food contests, how much they could eat, and even the grossest things they had consumed—clearly a popular guy topic. I sneaked a look at Zander. He was still looking at me, but he just smiled, not like I was weird, but more conspiratorially as he rolled his eyes at the guys’ nonsensical bragging. The huge knot in my stomach finally started unraveling. Then I looked over at Ruthie. She met my gaze and mouthed the words “I’m sorry!” with a please-don’t-hate-me look. I just pressed my lips together. I wasn’t forgiving her quite yet, but I hadn’t become the freak show that I expected.
School passed more pleasantly after that, and before I knew it, I was walking to English. As was the custom in many California schools, the classrooms opened to the outdoor covered sidewalks, which spread like a web to all the other buildings scattered across campus. I was rounding the corner in a rush because the bell was about to ring when two girls sideswiped me going different directions. This spun me in a circle, sending my books flying, and I threw out my hands to stop my fall. I looked up to catch the mock surprise from my assailants—who just happened to be Zena groupies.
“Oh my gosh! I’m sooo sorry.”
“You should really look where you’re going! You could hurt someone.”
Then they hurried off giggling, just as the bell sounded. I caught the words “psycho” and “brain damage.” I gathered up my stuff, and in the process noticed that my hands were bleeding. As I rubbed them on my pants, I noticed a small tear across one knee, ruining one of my new pairs of jeans. A long sigh escaped me and I continued on to class. Maybe Mr. Mac wouldn’t notice me sneaking in.
He was writing on the chalkboard as I walked quietly toward some empty seats in the back.
“Just getting here, Tru?” Zena’s voice was loud and clear, and Mr. Mac turned from the board. Zena smirked. I closed my eyes in defeat.
“Ach, Ms. Parker. You know how I feel about being late, lass. I’m afraid that will have to be a tardy.” He marked his attendance book with a reluctant look. I knew he was making a point for the whole class. I was probably the first tardy of the school year. It was way too soon to start collecting tardies. I had a feeling I would need some later.
By now, my hands were really stinging. I slipped into a seat and took a look at them. Deep and dirty scratches stretched across each palm, blood still oozing. There was nothing I could do for now, unless I asked to go see the nurse. But I didn’t want to, especially in front of Zena. I knew she was responsible for this. I couldn’t give her the satisfaction.
Gratefully, this was the last class of the day. Mr. Mac cleared his throat and announced that he wanted everyone to pick a partner for our first project. He would give us a few minutes to exchange contact information and get to know each other a bit better—we were supposed to team up with someone we didn’t know very well. Kids jumped out of their chairs, racing for their friends. Typical. I didn’t feel like even trying, so I just laid my head on the desk, cradling my sore hands on my lap.
“Here, let me see them.” Zander’s voice drifted over from the empty desk next to me—at least it had been empty when I sat down. I lifted my head with a questioning look.
“See what?”
“Hands. I can tell there’s something wrong with them.”
So he had great powers of observation. Goodie for him. My life sucked.
I felt a hate laser stabbing at me from half the classroom away. I turned my head. Zena was the shooter. Whatever, I thought, not understanding what I had done to her this time.
Zander carefully picked up my hands and opened them. A warm hum enveloped my abused appendages. This time we didn’t pull away. He brushed his fingertips across my palms. It didn’t sting, but I was afraid it would and pressed my hands together again, sucking in my breath. So, he just held my hands between his. Waves of heat pulsed across my injuries. I didn’t want him to let go. I felt like drowning in his endless, deep, sea-blue gaze.
“I kinda fell before class,” I whispered, hoping to prolong the contact.
“I thought athletic people weren’t clumsy,” he said, the corner of his mouth turned up. His thumbs rubbed against the backs of my hands.
“Yeah, well, I had some help falling.” That’s all I was going to say. No need to point fingers. I mean, what good would it do? The culprits were part of Zena’s girl gang, which meant there would be no justice. And I really didn’t want to sound like a whiner.
“Seriously?”
“Um, yeah, but if you think I look bad, you should see them.” I tried to joke.
He smiled. “Them? Seriously? What kind of school is this?”
I laughed weakly.
He grunted. “What did you do? Steal their lipstick?” His eyes crinkled at the corners.
“I know. Really. Military school would be too good for them.”
“Girls are so weird,” he smirked. “Why can’t you just have a good clean fight and make up like us guys? You are so complicated.”
“Hey, I’m with you!” I agreed. “I hate that stuff. It’s not like I’m trying to be Miss Popular, anyway.” Inside, I cringed because that’s exactly what I was doing this year with Ruthie’s help.
“That’s probably why bullies do what they do. When someone else has something they want, they get jealous and strike out.”
“Ha! I don’t have anything anyone else would want!” I rolled my eyes at his absurdity.
His face was so close. “Oh yes you do.” I forgot about Zena, Mr. Mac, and the rest of the chattering kids in class as we shared a long glance. Was that admiration in his eyes? My heart flip-flopped.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered, breathlessly.
“Really?” he said doubtfully. “You do have mirrors in your house, right?” He gently let go of my hands and brushed a thick wave of hair from my eyes. I felt the lack of warmth around my hands like a coat removed in a blizzard, and shivered. At least that’s the reason I told myself I shivered. I was still processing his subtle compliment. He reached for his backpack and rummaged in it until he came up with a small tube.
“You carry antibiotic ointment with you,” I stated. “Very prepared. What are you? A Boy Scout?” I felt my lips curving up at one corner. Suddenly, despite high school rivalries and my own numerous inadequacies, I felt happy.
He smiled. “I’ve been known to get into a few scrapes, myself, so I learned to be prepared. Here, let’s see your hands again.”
I laid them open, still drinking in his face. His eyebrows pushed together in perplexity, and I followed his gaze to my hands. The scratches were gone, the skin totally healed as if it had never been injured. Only the blood and dirt remained. I realized they didn’t hurt anymore.
>
“What?” I gasped. We looked at each other, amazed. “I don’t get it!” I was shocked. Was I losing it? “You saw them, right?”
Zander ran his hands over mine, turning them over and over.
“All right, class. Back to your seats,” ordered Mr. Mac.
Zander and I pulled apart slowly. He looked warily at me. I wondered what he was thinking and hoped he didn’t think I was making it up, because I was just as mystified. If I didn’t have dried blood and dirt smeared all over my hands, I would not have believed that they had ever been hurt. I pulled out my notebook and peeked at him. He was turned forward, rubbing his face with his hands as if tired. He blinked his eyes a few times and then squished his eyebrows together in concentration. He looked confused, but no more than I did. I started to turn back and noticed him skillfully hiding a cell phone to one side, out of sight for most people. He was texting someone.
A shiver went up my spine. Something really miraculous had happened, I thought. My hands had healed or I was hallucinating. I felt like an idiot just thinking it. Did someone slip me something? Did I imagine it? No, Zander seemed just as confused.
Could Zander have caused it? I recalled the warmth of his hands as they held mine. Or did I do something? Did he think I had been lying about them? Great. Now I was a lying psycho.
When class ended, Zander walked me to the door. Again I felt Zena’s hate laser. Again I ignored it.
“Tru,” he said, “do you have time to, uh, talk today?”
“I don’t know what happened, you know,” I said defensively.
“Yeah, I got that.” He paused as several students pushed their way past us, out of the classroom. “That was…weird, but I had some other questions for you.”
Questions, I thought. Alarms were going off in my head. I doubted this was about homework, but…
“You mean about the assignment? We didn’t get to talk, but did you want to partner up for the project?” I asked, a sliver of hope in my voice.
Secrets of the Sleeper: True Nature Series: Book One Page 8
