Fluorescence: The Complete Tetralogy

by P. Anastasia

  “That’s good.” She nodded. “Better safe than sorry.”

  “I guess.” I shrugged and heaved a sigh that was probably loud enough for the kids in the back of the bus to hear. “I haaaate going to the doctor. Why can’t I just be a normal kid without stupid junk wrong with me?”

  “You’re perfect!” Sam’s curly red hair bounced on and off her shoulder as she nodded matter-of-factly.

  The driver braked and pulled the lever that opened the bus door. Sam straightened up. “OMG!” She jabbed me in the arm.

  “What?” I groaned beneath my breath.

  “Shh!”

  A tall boy dressed in dark jeans and a weathered brown-leather jacket jogged up the steps. He grabbed onto the metal hand railing in front of us and the bus driver flipped the lever, closing the doors behind him. Sam held her breath. The boy had a roguish, rough-around-the-edges look, and a confident air about him that set him apart. I tried not to stare at his pretty light-brown feathered hair.

  The bus started up and the boy stumbled forward a step. I instinctively reached out to help but he had already regained his balance, chuckling at the misstep. He then headed down the aisle, eying up the back row where Eric and Stanley sat.

  “That’s the new kid I heard about,” Sam whispered, giggling. “Lordy, he’s cuuuuute.”

  “Hush!” I flashed her a dirty look.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Okay, so maybe he was cute. Definitely not pretty-boy Loki cute, though. He reminded me of a young Wolverine with longer, shaggier hair just framing his ears and the collar of his jacket perked up around his neck.

  He told the two boys to pick other seats and I smiled. Payback. It’s a good day when bullies meet their match. Maybe this one wouldn’t pick on me.

  “Told ya.” Sam smirked, nudging me in the ribs with her elbow. She’d caught me grinning.

  “Shut up.”

  I hunched over in my seat—a telltale sign there was an attractive boy around—and pulled my knees up to my chest, pressing my heels into the guardrail in front of me. The new boy’s reflection shimmered in the wide rearview mirror hanging just above the front windshield. I couldn’t help but watch him.

  His hand had almost brushed mine when he’d grabbed for the railing. Almost. I wondered if he’d noticed me…

  “Maybe he’ll be in your class,” Sam whispered, and then gasped. “Or mine. Maybe he’ll be in mine.” Her excited high-pitched voice reminded me of a cartoon squirrel.

  “Sam… Please.” I crossed my arms and looked away.

  “Feet off the railing,” the bus driver scolded.

  . . .

  Of course the new boy, Brian, was in my class. He had been moving to sit in the very back corner where no one would bother him, but the teacher had asked him to come “make some new friends” further toward the front.

  Next to who?

  Me.

  When he came down the aisle and walked past, I caught a faint whiff of his scent. I mean, he looked all rugged with that I’ve-been-living-in-the-woods-for-a-week kind of style, but with a nice clean smell like that, he obviously hadn’t been.

  Mr. Johnson told us to go to Chapter 8. I cracked open my history book and took a mechanical pencil out of my bag. The teacher started rattling off a list of things we needed to know for the next exam.

  “Hey. Got a pen?”

  “Huh?” I looked up.

  “Pencil? Pen? You got one I can borrow?” It was Brian.

  “Uh, yeah. One sec.” I dug around in my bag and then pulled out a purple ink pen. It was all I could spare.

  “Here ya go.” I stretched my arm out to the side and handed it to him, avoiding eye contact so my dumb cheeks wouldn’t get all pink or something.

  “Thanks.” He began scribbling something down and then suddenly pulled back, surprised. “Purple?”

  I slouched in my seat. “It’s all I have. Sorry.”

  “It’s cool. Whatever.” He wrote something in a notepad tucked beneath his book. I couldn’t see exactly what it was, but it definitely wasn’t schoolwork.

  . . .

  What felt like the longest class in the history of high school had finally ended. I rushed off to the parking lot to meet my mom. I tossed my bag in the back and flopped into the passenger seat.

  Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into the clinic parking lot.

  Before I could explain, Mom exploded into a full-on rampage about how the new medication had made me sick and how the doctor needed to be more careful with what she prescribed teen girls.

  “It’s only a supplement,” Dr. Eliza defended, trying to stay calm amongst my mother’s allegations. “It’s highly uncommon it would cause any issues. Still, let’s do some blood work and see if we can get her on a different dosage.”

  I liked Dr. Eliza. I’d had her for a doctor forever, I think. She was really kind and I never felt weird about going to see her. My mother, on the other hand, always looked for an excuse to defend her “perfect little girl.” She had worked as a receptionist at an urgent care clinic way back before marrying my dad. She’s seen and heard her share of medical mishaps, and because of it, doesn’t trust doctors much anymore.

  The thought of getting blood drawn made my stomach churn. I hate needles. Getting a flu shot practically had me in tears. A quick, measly little flu shot! Now I had even more to worry about. What else would the test reveal? What if the green light came back right in the middle of the doctor’s office?

  Dr. Eliza’s nurse led me over to the lab and the technician asked me to sit down in a padded vinyl-covered chair. I laid my arm down on the oversized armrest and a lump formed in my throat.

  The technician wrapped a thick rubber band around my forearm and twisted it into a knot. “Make a fist,” she said, and tapped the inside of my arm a few times. The tourniquet squeezed my arm so hard, I winced.

  I grunted in pain as the needle pierced the skin.

  “You can relax your hand now,” she said.

  The pinch of the needle didn’t hurt too much—the band choking my arm was the worst part. I moaned beneath my breath and the woman patted my shoulder with her gloved hand.

  “Almost done, sweetie.” She undid the tourniquet and changed out another tube of blood. I flinched. The faint clicking sound of her removing one tube and plugging another into the thing in my arm disturbed me. I had to look away.

  Think happy thoughts. Don’t think about the light. The green….

  Rainbows. Unicorns. Purple bunny rabbits.

  “All done.” She withdrew the needle and pressed a rolled-up piece of gauze onto the punctured spot. “Hold this a moment.”

  I held the gauze with two fingers and breathed a sigh of relief.

  She stretched a piece of sticky bandage tape over the gauze and patted me on the back. “See? You lived.”

  I shrugged.

  “Results will be in within a week. The doctor should call you.”

  “Thanks.” I stood up and headed back to the lobby where Mom waited.

  Mom was on her phone surfing the internet when I entered.

  “How’d it go?” She sat up in the chair and tucked her phone into her purse.

  “Yay. I lived.” I waved a tiny imaginary victory flag in my hand.

  “That’s a silly thing to say, Alice.”

  “Hey, the technician said it. I’m just quoting her.”

  “Hmm.” Mom put her hand on her hip. “Are you ready to go?”

  Someone in the waiting room started hacking—one of those horrible phlegmy, congested coughs.

  I made a beeline for the exit.

  Chapter 3

  We’d just gotten home from the doctor’s office when my phone vibrated.

  SAM: HALP!

  SAM: Math homework! Study 2NITE?

  ME: SURE

  SAM: Yay! CU soon ^_^

  She ended the conversation by uploading a meme photo of a Persian cat wearing an ugly Christmas sweater
. I chuckled and shoved my phone into the side pocket of my jeans. Sam was crazy, and I loved her like a sister. She was my best friend and nothing would change that, but…

  Had I known all she would do all night was gossip about the new boy, Brian, I would never have agreed to let her come over and “study.”

  “I mean, OMG, he’s really cute! You and him should totally hook up. I bet your kids would be gorgeous!”

  “Ick! Sam!” I shoved her in the arm. “Kids? Are you crazy?”

  “That handsome dark hair. Those pretty… whatever color eyes he has.”

  Hazel…

  “Bet they are dreamy. He can probably rock a skateboard. Or he owns a motorcycle. Or he’s building one or… Oh! I bet he’s one of those guys who will get his license as soon as he turns sixteen. Seriously. You don’t think he’s cute? Come on.”

  She hadn’t taken a single breath.

  “If you’re so in love with him, why don’t you ask him out?”

  She pulled back. “Me?” A nervous half-laugh came out of her mouth. “Well, you know I’m totally holding out for Brent. At least until he notices me. Then, maybe. Anyway, don’t change the topic! Brian! Cute?”

  Brent Cole. One of the most popular boys at our school and totally out of our league.

  “I dunno, Sam.” I rolled my eyes and groaned, wanting to avoid the question altogether. It was the tenth time she’d asked. I hadn’t stopped thinking about Brian since he’d borrowed my stupid purple pen—and never given it back. Sam was making things worse.

  “Hah!” She tumbled backward onto some fluffy heart-shaped pillows and clutched her tablet, giggling like a hyena. “I knew it!” She rolled forward and pointed at me, flashing a maniacally toothy grin. “You like him, don’t ya?”

  “Shut up and let’s finish this homework.” I rubbed the soft flesh at the inside of my elbow. “I’m still hurting a little.” The red pinprick was surrounded by a nasty purplish halo. “Sitting here all cramped up isn’t making me feel better.”

  Sam grimaced and then resituated herself on my bed, cross-legged, her math book balancing open on one knee and her tablet teetering on the other, a social networking site left open. No doubt she had already searched for Brian on it.

  I slouched over my book and tapped randomly on my graphing calculator keys.

  Variable expressions. Bleh.

  Would Brian ever return my pen? Not that the pen was valuable, but…

  “Oh my god…” Sam’s notebook fell onto the floor and I jerked my head toward her.

  “What? What now?”

  As if she had seen a ghost, she backed herself up against the headboard, her feet digging into the bedspread and a hand covering her mouth.

  “What is that?” She pointed at me frantically and my heart skipped a beat.

  Oh no. Not here. Not in front of my (sweet, adorable, beloved) big-mouthed friend. I immediately craned my neck to look at my shoulder. Neon-green light shone through the grey fabric of my t-shirt, flaring up even brighter than it had before.

  “It’s okay, Sam.” I covered my shoulder with my hand and used my other to reach out to her. She withdrew, cringing. “I think it’s okay, at least. Really.”

  “What the heck is that?” She leaned forward and squinted. “Seriously. WTF?” Sam scooted closer, curious now that she could see I wasn’t freaking out.

  “Look, I don’t know, okay?” I crumpled over and tried to cover it up with all of my fingers but light still shone through. I fanned my hair out and covered it that way instead. The skin radiated with heat. “I thought it was the meds but… it can’t be.”

  “You’re glowing! That is so freaky!” Her eyes widened with excitement and she reached out to touch my shoulder, but then jerked her hand back fearfully mid-motion. “Are you radioactive? Cause, that would be so not cool.”

  “I don’t know, Sam. I already said I didn’t know.”

  “When did this start?”

  “The other night, while we were watching movies.”

  “When you left early? Oh my God, why didn’t you tell me?” Her jaw dropped like she had never been so offended.

  Because…

  “Did the doctor say anything?”

  I shook my head and shrugged.

  “You didn’t tell her? You are crazy!”

  “I didn’t want to scare Mom, or my doctor. This isn’t normal, ya know?”

  Sam’s lips wrinkled to one side. “I guess not.”

  The burning grew more intense and I rubbed my shoulder vigorously, sucking in a breath through my teeth.

  “You okay? Does it hurt?”

  “It burns like crazy, actually.”

  “Is it a rash?” Sam tipped her head to the side.

  I rolled my eyes again. “Yeah, it’s a rash, Sam. I don’t know what it is.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, concentrating on clearing my mind.

  Deep breath.

  Deep breath.

  The heat began to dissipate.

  “Hey, it’s going away,” Sam said, perking up from her seat and pointing.

  “Good.” I looked. Both the light and color had faded. “That’s what happened the other night, too. It just went away.”

  “Any idea what it’s caused by?”

  “No, not really. Last time it happened was when we were just sitting around. This time, we were… um.”

  I suddenly pictured the new boy and immediately my thoughts started to drift.

  “Talking about Brian!” Sam beamed.

  “Yeah…”

  “Maybe it comes and goes when you’re excited or interested or something. Like a radioactive tell. Huh? Huh?” She nudged me in the arm, thrilled with herself.

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Radioactive? It’s not radioactive. It… can’t be. I’d probably be dead, so stop saying that, please. You’re not helping.”

  Sam reached to the floor to scoop up her things and handed the tablet to me. “How’s your Google-fu?”

  “I already tried that,” I replied, taking it from her. The hairs on the back of my neck perked up and a creepy-crawly, pins-and-needles sensation washed over my whole body. My fingertips tingled as I swiped over an icon on the screen and the pixels started flashing random colors.

  I lost focus.

  A jolt of energy surged through me like an electrical shock. I tossed the tablet onto the floor. The screen went black and a loud buzzing noise emitted from the speaker.

  Sam reached for it but I stopped her with a stiff swing of my arm. “No!” I said. “It’s not safe.”

  “You broke it?” Sam squealed.

  I took a deep breath and looked her in the eye.

  She stared back at me, her forehead wrinkling. “If we broke my Dad’s tablet, he’s gonna freak, you know?”

  I trembled. The hairs on my neck perked up again and my stomach suddenly felt really sick. I shook my head and swallowed hard, holding onto myself tightly and rubbing my forearms. A chill swept through the air.

  “I think that’s the least of our worries right now, Sam.”

  Chapter 4

  I took a seat in math class and pulled my notebook and calculator from my bag. Sam came in and sat beside me.

  It had been a few days since the incident. I felt better, but we hadn’t talked much about what had happened. She was pretty ruffled by the whole ordeal and jokingly suggested she’d suffered hallucinations brought on by too many sodas and potato chips.

  Sam kept eying my shoulder during class. It was super awkward—like she thought an alien was about to pop out of me at any moment.

  Her dad had been briefly upset about the fried tablet. We’d told him it had shorted out while we were searching the internet and he’d shrugged it off as an inconvenience, saying something about it still being under warranty. Her parents weren’t exactly hard up for money, at least. I still felt bad, though.

  Halfway through class, a folded up square of paper inched into view, shuttled
toward me by Sam’s hand. I furrowed my brow and gave her “the look.” The “are you trying to get us into trouble” look. She was always passing notes in class and the teacher wasn’t keen about it, even if it was less distracting than texting.

  I propped up my book and slipped the note between the open pages so I could unfold it unnoticed.

  “Walk home today?” it read in scribbled ink.

  On days when the weather was nice, I walked home from school with Sam. Sometimes we’d do a little shopping at the strip mall on the way and then she’d stay for dinner. My mom would drive her home afterwards.

  I looked at her and nodded. “Yeah,” I mouthed the word. She squinted and made excited fists, pretending to squeal.

  Mrs. Prather’s head rose and she peered over her computer monitor to shoot us a dirty look. I put my nose into my book and went back to my work.

  . . .

  Brian sauntered into history class—a few minutes late, as usual—and plopped down in the empty chair next to me.

  “Last warning, Brian.” Mr. Johnson glared at him snidely and shook his head before going back to whatever he had been typing on his computer.

  I tried to ignore Brian, but it was difficult. I felt him watching me and kept locking eyes with him whenever I glanced away from my book. Then, he’d go back to scribbling something in the notebook which he kept opening and closing every couple of minutes. I couldn’t tell what he was doing, but he was using the pen he still hadn’t given back.

  Class zipped by. I closed my book bag and set it on my desk, slipping out a little stick of pink lip gloss from the outside pocket and swiping some across my lips. Only English remained before window-shopping time with Sam on the walk home. Too bad none of my friends were in English class.

  “Hey… Alice, was it?”

  I turned toward Brian and fumbled to snap the cap onto the lip gloss. “Yeah,” I replied, trying not to let my gaze linger on his rich hazel eyes. There was a small dark brown spot in his left iris.

  “You’ve lived around here for a while, right?”