by Melissa Haag
Within five minutes, I sat in the back seat of mom’s rusted out car. It had long ago lost its emblem identifying the make and model. The cracked leather seats quickly warmed on the fifteen-minute drive to town. As usual, I dwelled on the unfairness that it took fifteen minutes to get to school and forty to get home.
She and Aunt Grace dropped me off near the front steps of Middlelyn High. Only a few other late arrivals still rushed through the main doors. It meant fighting my way to my locker through crowded hallways.
As I trudged forward, I felt more than the usual stares boring into my back. Glancing around, I saw Brian and a group of boys talking quietly. They all watched my progress. Great. By rejecting Brian, I’d made matters worse and made myself more of a challenge to them.
With a mental sigh, I hurried to my locker, placed the books I’d taken home inside, and pulled out the books for my first two classes. Less locker time would be a good thing today.
Predictably, one of the boys broke away from the group and approached me. I cut him off when he opened his mouth to say something.
“Don’t waste your energy.”
I closed my locker and walked away.
The day crawled by as Brian’s group of friends took every opportunity to speak to me. My patience wore thin when one of them approached at lunch. I sat alone at the table and tried to ignore Clavin as he invaded my solitude and graced me with his magnificent presence. The mockery in his voice as he suggested we “get it on in the supply closet” pushed me too far.
My words carried to the next table when I told him to sit on a broom handle instead. Everyone at that table snickered. Clavin’s face infused with red, and his eyes narrowed before he stormed off. His look promised retribution.
By the end of the day, I’d managed to offend each member of Brian’s circle. Not intentionally though. But after the cafeteria incident, it didn’t matter what I said. They all got angry, and I hated their stupid bet and callous attitudes even more.
The last bell rang, and I left the chemistry lab to merge with the other students who poured into the halls. My mind was on what Gran and I would make for dinner, and I didn’t notice Clavin until he bumped into me. The nudge was hard enough that I lost my balance and stumbled into a side hall we were passing.
Tripping over my own feet, I struggled to regain my balance. My bag almost fell off my shoulder in the process, and I narrowly avoided a face plant to the floor. A pair of shoes, attached to familiar legs, registered as I caught myself. Heart thumping, I looked up and saw Brian standing next to a door.
Before I could do anything, he opened the supply closet and Clavin pushed me in. The door slammed shut behind me.
The sudden absence of light startled me as much as the abruptly cut-off laughter worried me.
A thin band of light at the bottom of the door did little to illuminate the small space that smelled of cleaning supplies and old mop water. I dropped my bag and grabbed the door handle. It didn’t move.
“Real mature.” I pounded a fist on the door. “Let me out.” No response.
If they thought this would turn me into a crying mess, they needed to think again.
Pausing, I listened for an indication the boys waited outside the door. In the distance, I heard other students as they left the school. No sounds came from nearby. The school had almost emptied already. My stomach did a crazy flip, and fear slid into my belly. I needed to get out soon or I’d miss the bus. Home before dark...
The handle still didn’t budge.
I pounded and kicked the door, hoping someone from the main hall would hear me. Somebody had to have seen what happened. Before that hope took hold, I realized no one would care.
I changed strategies, knowing it was time to be smart, not panic.
Feeling along the door, I searched for a switch. I felt nothing to either side but shelves. Raising my hands above my head, I waved them around, feeling for a string. Something brushed my fingertips. I slowed down the waving and tried again with success.
With the string between my fingers, I gave a gentle tug. Light flooded the space, and I blinked away the pain as my eyes watered. Between blinks, I studied the tiny area.
Mounted to the wall, a small utility sink occupied the back of the room. In front of it sat the janitor’s mop and bucket filled with cold, dirty water. I wrinkled my nose. The shelves held cleaning supplies, and bags of liquid absorbent lay stacked on the floor. There was nothing I could use to open the door.
Turning, I studied the doorknob. The lock was on the inside. I frowned at the lock and stepped forward to try the handle once more. It gave a little before stopping. They hadn’t locked me in. Someone held the knob from the outside.
Angry, I gripped the knob tightly. Whoever stood outside held it steady.
I closed my eyes. I’d only ever gotten visions when touching skin to skin, but I concentrated anyway, hoping I could figure out who held the door closed. I breathed slowly, cleared my mind, and willed a vision to appear.
Nothing happened.
Outside the door, the sounds of leaving students faded to an eerie quiet. The thought of the buses leaving made me desperate. So I guessed.
“Brian, I know it’s you holding the handle,” I spoke with a false calm as I placed my ear against the wood to listen. “I know it’s you just like I know you’re going to grow up to be a raging alcoholic who dies in his sleep.”
The doorknob twisted sharply, and because of my tight grip, my knuckles scraped on the frame. As I gasped at the pain, the door jerked outward a few inches. Just enough for me to lose my balance and catch sight of Brian’s startled face peering back at me.
Before I recovered my balance, he slammed the door shut again. The side of my face smacked against the wood with a crack. The cheap door gave under the pressure, splitting before my cheekbone did.
I cried out and pressed a hand to my face. Heat radiated into my palm, and my eyes watered from the pain.
Fury cut through the urge to cry, and I grabbed for the knob again. This time, I met no resistance when I pushed the door open. The sound of my tormentor’s rapidly retreating feet assured me I need not worry that they lingered.
Further down the hall, a janitor turned the corner. He pushed a mop and bucket identical to the one already in the supply closet. Before he spotted me, I grabbed my bag and darted out, my hand still pressed to my face.
The deserted halls echoed with my racing footsteps. Each footfall sent a jolt through my throbbing cheek. The pain, which started near my earlobe, seared through the bone to carve a slow, brutal path to the base of my eye. Too angry to cry, I didn’t pause to look for Brian and Clavin and focused on getting out of the building.
Afternoon sunlight poured into the main lobby, an atrium with display cases for the school’s sports trophies. It usually felt warm and welcoming. Not today. The doors flew wide open as I raced through them.
The empty drive in front of the school confirmed my guess that I’d missed the buses. Since we only had the one car, calling Gran wouldn’t do me any good, and I didn’t want to call Mom at work. She’d insist I wait at the school. I couldn’t tell her why I didn’t want to do that. We had enough to deal with.
I glanced at the overcast sky, shouldered my bag, and set off at a brisk pace. I estimated we lived about seven miles from school. It was probably almost three o’clock. That’d give me two hours to get home.
Plenty of time, I tried to assure myself. And, when the bus passes the house without stopping, Gran will call Mom, and she and Aunt Grace will watch for me on their way home.
An icy breeze played with my hair. Lifting the strands, it swept over the back of my neck and made me cringe. Forty minutes until Gran called Mom. I could handle the cold that long.
I’d made it across the staff parking lot when I noticed a mustard yellow car idling in the student lot. Like my mom’s car, what it lacked in newness it had in character. Too far away to see the people inside, I only spared it a passing glance as I cut across the
lot to the school’s main access road.
It wasn’t a big school or a big town, so the sidewalk disappeared just before I hit the southern outskirts. I walked the graveled shoulder at a steady pace and kept a careful eye on the ditch that dropped a few feet before it sloped away into fallow fields. My face hurt enough without me falling and landing on the clumps of dirt that poked up in frozen disarray.
A shiver stole through me, and I curled deeper into my light jacket while using my freezing digits to soothe the hot ache in my face. My cheek helped keep my fingers warm, but I worried what the extreme heat meant and began to regret what I’d said to Brian. I should have kept my mouth shut.
At the last school I’d attended, just an hour away, I’d finished the year as a complete outcast. I hadn’t liked it, but at least the bullying there hadn’t escalated past nasty words exchanged in the halls.
Lightly touching my cheek, I hoped it wouldn’t bruise. My mom would flip if she found out just how bad things had gotten and would want to move. Again. In my life, we’d moved eleven times. Seven of those occurred since I’d turned thirteen. We usually moved at the end of the school year, stayed somewhere for the summer, and moved again before the next school year started. Every year, a different school.
According to Belinda’s book, moving often protected us. From what? I was sure that Gran and Aunt Danielle knew. They always instigated the talk of moving. Their primary argument centered on the fact that moving meant new boys to meet. After all, finding “the right one” remained our priority. Once I made my selection, we’d all be free until my fatherless daughter turned twelve.
I wished I could be like other kids at school. The normal drama of who dated whom and what so-and-so said to what’s-her-name appealed to me. Heck, just having someone willing to sit with me at lunch would be nice, I thought. But, did I want that bad enough to move again so soon?
Even if we did move, the chances of finding a friend willing to deal with my weirdness was low. No, it was better to stay with the devils I knew. If I beat Mom home, I could try to use makeup to hide whatever mark might be on my cheek.
Hopefully, the problem with Brian and Clavin would die down on its own.
Lost in thought, it took me a moment to hear the sound of a car approaching from behind. Already on the shoulder, I took another step away from the road as I turned to look back. The large, faded yellow car from the student lot approached fast. I squinted, trying to see the driver, which hurt my cheek. Absently, I touched my cool fingers to it.
The fire in my cheek dulled in comparison to my anger when I recognized Brian driving. His glare and white-knuckled grip on the wheel had me spinning away. I jumped the ditch and landed in the field. Trying to run and keep my balance while avoiding the frozen, tilled clumps of dirt proved almost impossible, and I stopped after I’d only made it about five feet.
A large, overturned stone lay loosely on top of the hard ground near my feet. I grabbed it and faced the road.
The car flew past with Clavin’s arm hanging out the passenger window. He flipped me off.
Heart hammering from the scare, I stayed in the frozen field and watched them disappear over the next slight rise.
The fields eventually gave way to woods in the direction they’d headed. The same direction I needed to go. My eyes lingered on the distant, dense trees on either side of the long, remote road home. Tops barren, their thick trunks still afforded protection if I needed it. If I could reach them before the boys returned, the trees would give me a chance to run.
Without any other option, I moved back to the road. I still clutched the rock. Heavy and about the size of a hardball, the rock was better than nothing. I could try to throw it at the windshield if they came back before I reached the trees. Deciding not to take a chance on my aim, I started to jog.
My cold hands warmed, and sweat started to dampen the small of my back and underarms. My face hurt, and without my cool hands to help it, I could feel my cheek start to swell.
When I topped the next rise, I spotted the car parked on the west side of the road, a fair distance beyond the start of the trees. Dread filled me.
Apparently, Brian and Clavin weren’t ready to forgive and forget.
I couldn’t tell if the pair waited in the car or if they already hid in the woods. I stopped my approach and glanced right then left. Neither side of the road presented a better option. Both were still three fields deep before the nearest tree line. Brian and Clavin would spot me before I made it very far and could easily cut off any attempt to avoid them. They probably watched me standing on the rise now. If I turned around, they’d likely just follow.
My stomach churned. I hated my life, but not enough to walk willingly into a fight I’d lose. They’d already injured my face. What would they do to me next? I couldn’t imagine it would be an apology.
I eyed the clouds. Dusk stole closer. I didn’t have time to stand still and debate my next move. They were determined to confront me again, and I didn’t see that I had any other option.
Taking a deep breath and gripping my rock, I started the long walk forward. The wind blew across the fields, playing with my hair and tickling my ears. The sweat I’d worked up cooled too quickly. At least the chill felt good on my face.
When I was close enough to hear the rattle of the barren branches, I saw the outline of the car’s two occupants. I stayed focused on them and kept walking.
Both car doors creaked as Brian and Clavin opened them and got out.
I didn’t stop.
At about twenty feet away I called, “How much do you like your car?”
“How much do you like your teeth?” Clavin asked.
Well, that made their intent very clear. I pulled back my arm and threw the rock at the car’s back window.
My plan? Throw the rock as a distraction, run past Brian who’d presumably freak about his car, and bolt into the trees in the general direction of home.
Instead, I watched in horror as the rock flew straight at Clavin. Despite what they’d done to me, I didn’t want to hurt either of them in return. Clavin saw the rock sailing toward him and tried to dodge. The stone clipped his hip with a deep, muffled sound. He folded over.
Brian stood frozen in shock for a moment. Then he ran around the car to check on Clavin.
What had I just done? I shook myself so I could shed the brief paralysis.
I’d created the distraction I needed. The realization motivated me.
I sprinted across the road and cleared the tree line opposite the car. If they caught me—I cringed at the thought and ran faster, dodging around trees to move deeper into cover. Despite my fear, I focused to maintain a sense of direction instead of running blindly. The cloud-filled sky made it difficult, though.
Too soon, I had to stop because of a stitch in my side and the ache in my face. Bent over and gasping for air near a clump of bramble, I tried to listen for pursuit. Voices echoed distantly from the direction I’d run. I couldn’t see the boys though.
Shaking with adrenaline and fear, I wanted to cry. Instead, I changed direction and forced myself to walk softly over the leaf-strewn ground. I snuck from tree to tree, making my way back toward the road where the trees thinned. After a few moments of quiet movement, I noticed their yelling had stopped. Hopefully, they would believe I was still running straight toward my house and would keep heading in that direction.
By the time I neared the road, I could breathe semi-normally. The wind swept harder over me through the thinning trees. I stopped walking and leaned against the trunk of one. The dry, rough bark bit into my palms as I risked a look around it. In the distance to the right, Brian’s car still sat on the shoulder. At least I’d passed it.
I listened for another moment. Hearing nothing, I sprinted across the road and leapt back into the cover of the trees on the other side. A broken branch, half-covered by fallen leaves, tripped me. Going down hard, I skinned the palm of my right hand.
Immediately scrambling to a crouch, I held my
breath and listened again. Nothing. The silence wasn’t necessarily a good sign, however. They could be anywhere. Quietly, I made my way farther into the trees and started to follow the general direction of the road. I had no idea how much time had passed, but the fading light spurred me on.
Tired and sore, I jogged when I could and walked when I couldn’t, making slow progress. Several times in the distance, I heard a car on the road and quickly dropped to the ground. I wasn’t sure how far into the trees they’d be able to see when they drove past, but I didn’t want to take a chance.
After a while, the long shadows in the trees forced me to the road, which proved fortunate. I recognized the familiar bend where I emerged. I was so close to home.
I wanted to laugh, but a vibrant orange streaked the sky, announcing the sun’s final rays. Fear, instilled by every lecture from my mother, great-grandmother, and aunts, had me sprinting over the blacktop and down the treacherous gravel driveway.
My house waited ahead, shutters already drawn. The front door stood open, light filling it from the inside. I wheezed for air but didn’t slow my pace.
Behind me, the cadence of running feet harshly hitting the crushed gravel grew in volume. Another spike of adrenaline filled me. Even this close to home, within sight of my family, I didn’t trust Brian or Clavin to leave me alone. I just hoped it wasn’t Brian behind me. Clavin, heavier and less fit than Brian, meant I’d have a chance to reach safety.
My mother stood in the doorway, shouting for me to hurry. She had her arms outstretched to catch me. Worry etched her face.
While my legs continued to eat the distance between me and the house, I looked back. My eyes widened, and I cried out for the second time that afternoon.
Behind me, a dark creature with glowing green eyes and horns galloped on two hooved feet. It seemed more shadow than reality, and I couldn’t process what chased me.
My mom’s voice called my attention. I quickly focused on her instead of the thing behind me. I sprinted up the steps then through the open door and fell to my knees just inside. The door thumped closed, muffling the sound of the creature reaching the steps.
