by Susan Hatler
I rolled my eyes.
“Excuse me? Mrs. Beckencourt?” Lindsay Sloan raised her hand as she sat perfectly postured in her chair, wearing a white blouse, khaki pants, and a navy blazer. Her mom was a successful lawyer and must’ve rubbed off on Lindsay, who looked like a teen lawyer-in-training.
If I wore that kind of outfit, it’d be stained and ruined in ten minutes. My mom would say I’m a slob. I preferred to think of myself as low maintenance.
Mrs. Beckencourt was currently snoring and oblivious to Lindsay’s frantic hand waving.
Wait a second. If Mrs. Beckencourt was asleep, I could sneak over to her desk, and reclaim my note without her noticing. Brilliant idea, if I did say so myself. I shifted my feet and prepared to recover what was rightfully mine.
“I said, Mrs. Beckencourt?!” Lindsay shouted.
Mrs. Beckencourt jerked awake. “Yes?”
Did I mention that I loathed Lindsay Sloan? Freshman year, she’d tattled on me for ditching class and changing the attendance sheet. Two years later, she was still shooting off her mouth and ruining my plans.
Lindsay put her hand down. “Aren’t the speech topics supposed to be related to government? I don’t think it’s fair that the rest of us researched relevant information for our speeches and Owen gets to just make his up.”
Mrs. Beckencourt’s eyes widened, probably clueless as to what Owen’s whacky speech was even about. “Owen?”
He shot an irritated look at Lindsay. “For your information, I saw a UFO last night at oh-two-hundred hours. It is my opinion that the government is using tax dollars to build these UFOs and they’re sending them to an alternate universe.”
Oh, brother.
“Puh-leeze, Owen . . .” Lindsay lurched forward in a way that made her red ponytail bounce. “You can’t expect us to learn from this. You’re wasting our time. This is an outrage to your peers!”
The only thing that enraged me was that Mrs. Beckencourt would be deep into REM by now if Lindsay had kept her pie hole shut.
Mrs. Beckencourt scratched her cheek and appeared deeply confused. How she’d gotten that note away from me, I’d never understand.
“Mrs. Beckencourt?” I raised my hand. “Lindsay has no right to judge how much each of us might learn from Owen. Personally, I was completely absorbed in his speech until Lindsay over there interrupted him. I find the topic of UFOs fascinating and completely relevant to our U.S. Government class.”
“You would.” Lindsay glared at me.
My brows came together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She pointed a finger at me. “In your speech, you referred to Monica Lewinsky as a political icon.”
“And you’re saying she’s not?” I glanced at the alert faces around me—apparently Lindsay and I were more entertaining than Owen’s supposed UFO sighting. “Raise your hand if you’re familiar with how Monica got it on with Bill.”
Everyone raised their hands, including Owen—who was currently making goo-goo eyes at me. Weird. I hoped Brynne didn’t notice that.
Mrs. Beckencourt finally stood up. “That’s enough, girls. I’m going to allow Owen’s topic.”
“Ha!” I couldn’t help but gloat.
Lindsay crossed her arms and made a huffy sound. “But, Mrs. Beckencourt—”
“I’ve made my decision,” Mrs. Beckencourt said, hopefully wanting to catch some more Zs. “The assignment is for each of you to discuss a U.S. Government topic that is tailored to your personal interests. Owen has chosen the misuse of tax dollars, which is acceptable. Please continue Owen.”
“Thank you.” Owen cleared his throat. “First, I must point out that I don’t disagree with the government spending tax dollars on intergalactic missions . . .”
I’d shut Lindsay up, but Mrs. Beckencourt remained awake through the rest of class—even though several others nodded off. When the bell finally rang, dismissing us, Mrs. Beckencourt caught my eye and crooked her bony finger at me. “Amy Love, please come up here. Brynne Peterson as well.”
Brynne threw me a nasty look and then trailed behind me toward the front of the class where Mrs. Beckencourt was collecting class notes from everyone. Mine only had two lines on it, the first being my name and the second being today’s date.
“I’m disappointed in you, Brynne.” Mrs. Beckencourt shook her head, wearing a downcast expression as if her dog had peed on the carpet. “You’re normally such a good student. Passing notes in class is not acceptable.”
“Yes, Mrs. Beckencourt.” Brynne bowed her head, taking her beating like a champ.
Then, Mrs. Beckencourt leaned closer to Brynne. “And looking at a boy’s underpants when he bends over? That’s inappropriate behavior. I expect more from you.”
“Yes, Mrs. Beckencourt.” Brynne’s face contorted as if she were ashamed, but I knew she was faking it. Checking out guys’ hinies was her favorite hobby.
Mrs. Beckencourt gave her a side-glance. “I’m going to let you off with a warning this time, Brynne. But I want to see better behavior from now on.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Brynne tilted her head, then nodded, and I couldn’t help being in awe of how sincerely apologetic she looked when I knew, without a doubt, she didn’t mean it.
“And you, Amy?”
“Huh?” My attention snapped back to Mrs. Beckencourt and I blinked.
“What can I bother saying that would help?” She handed me two pieces of folded paper, one white and the other green. “Two weeks of after school detention.”
My brows came together. “What? Why don’t I get off with a warning, too?”
Mrs. Beckencourt’s jaw tightened. “Although Brynne is responsible for her own actions, I don’t believe she would’ve been passing notes if it weren’t for you.”
The nerve. Sure, I’d started the note, but still. . . .
Brynne grabbed my elbow before I could say something I’d most likely regret. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Beckencourt.”
“That was completely unfair.” As we headed out for lunch, I unfolded the papers in my hand. One was a green slip directing me to start detention after school today and the other, I was elated to see, was my note. “Oh, thank you all that is good in the world.”
“Our note?” Brynne asked.
I nodded, kissed the note, then shoved it deep into my jeans pocket. Things were looking up.
Suddenly, the skin on my neck chilled and prickles popped up and down my arms. The air around me began heating like a furnace. My body felt heavy and I struggled for breath, feeling smothered.
Oh, no. The stalker spirits were back.
“Go away!” I broke out in a run to get away from them, dodging left and right, pushing past all the students. I spotted daylight and sunshine just ahead of me and I hoped I’d be safe there. Hoped somehow they’d be forced to remain in the dim hall behind me.
“Amy!” Brynne shouted but I didn’t glance back. I had to get away from them.
Out of nowhere, a tall body stepped in front of me, blocking the light and my path. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said.
****
Due to my speed from trying to outrun the spooks, I couldn’t stop in time and slammed into the body blocking my exit from the hallway. I grunted, my shoulder taking the brunt of the pain. The weighted feeling from the freaky spirits increased when I stopped, getting heavier and heavier—the air so thick it clogged my lungs.
The guy standing in front of me with the rock hard body peered down into my eyes. “Can we talk?” Owen said.
Wow. Since when did geeks start working out?
“Get out of my way.” I gasped for breath, shoved past him, then sprinted to the end of the hallway where I thrust my body into the open courtyard as if busting through a ribbon at the end of a race. The afternoon sun spilled over me and the heavy feeling lifted immediately. Thank goodness the spirit was gone. Or at least it had stayed in the hallway. Either way, the weighted feeling crushing my chest disappeared and I could breath again n
ormally.
Owen walked over to me without seeming at all fazed by my outburst and mad dash to the courtyard. “What’s your hurry?”
My shoulder throbbed as I glared at him. “Why’d you step in front of me like that, Owen? You’re like a brick wall.”
“Sorry.” He ran a hand through his shaggy bangs, causing tufts to stick up unevenly. Brynne would so love to be in my shoes at the moment. “I didn’t want you to leave until I thanked you for defending UFOs. It’s a serious topic that many are too scared to acknowledge.”
I’d just been chased by something invisible and Owen was talking about UFOs? What kind of freak show had my life turned into? “I hate to break the news to you, but I faked interest in UFOs. I just wanted Lindsay to shut up.”
His forehead wrinkled. “But you said UFOs were fascinating—”
“There you are, Amy.” Brynne trotted over, holding her purse at her side. “Why did you take off like that?” She gave me a weird look. Then she looked at Owen all soft-eyed.
Agh. I so did not have time to deal with her angsty crush.
Although I needed to tell her the truth, I couldn’t answer with Mr. UFO standing here. “Guess who I slammed into?”
“Hi, Owen.” Brynne smiled, showing a straight set of teeth that hadn’t worn braces a day in their life. “Interesting speech.”
I rolled my eyes. Whacked out was more like it.
The corners of Owen’s mouth turned upward. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. It’s something every U.S. citizen has a right to know.” Owen glanced at Brynne briefly, but then only seemed to have eyes for me. “So, Amy. If you’re up for leaving campus at lunch, Burger Mania has ninety-nine cent cheeseburgers this week.”
My brows rose and I shot a quick glance at Brynne. He wasn’t asking me out, was he? “Um. . . thanks for the menu update.”
“You’re welcome.” Owen apparently didn’t get sarcasm. “We’d save just over fifty percent of our U.S. dollars buying the cheeseburger this week instead of next week. Deposit the extra money into an interest bearing account and watch it grow exponentially until you retire.”
I stared at him blankly. This could not be a date request, right?
He paused a few seconds. “Want to get a burger with me? It doesn’t have to be the deal of the week cheeseburger if you prefer something else.”
Yep, I’d just been asked out on a date for the second time in a week. But this time by my friend’s crush, not my own. I gave Brynne a quick, totally-not-my-fault glance and then addressed the gigantic issue at hand.
“I’m not sure how to answer that.” Yeah, not the most brilliant statement, but how should one answer a hot UFO geek who asked them out for a cheap burger? It’d all be fine and good while we were munching down lunch, but what would happen once he started a conversation?
“Actually, Amy, we have that errand to run at the mall during lunch,” Brynne said.
Have I mentioned how much I loved Brynne? This was the perfect thing to say for two reasons. One, she’d saved me from rejecting her crush. And two, the excuse was actually true.
I’d totally forgotten that Nicole asked us to hold her hand while she got her ear triple pierced on the left side. Her dad had forbidden her to do it last night, so she wanted to get it done at lunch before she had time to think about how long she was going to be grounded once he found out. Her dad was an Army Reserve and a pro at dealing out punishment.
“That’s right. I’m supposed to go to the mall,” I said, hoping he’d take a hike so I could talk to Brynne about the spirits who had just tried to suffocate me. And assure her I’d done nothing to purposefully encourage Owen asking me out. Must be that he liked how I’d stuck up for UFOs earlier. He probably thought we were kindred spirits now or something.
Owen adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. “No sweat. Can I call you later?”
“I guess so.” My vagueness might be leading him on, but I couldn’t think of how to let him down gently. I wish high school came with a playbook. How did one turn down one’s best friend’s crush when one’s best friend was standing right there when said crush asks her out? My mind was beginning to crumble under the pressure.
“Okay, later.” He awkwardly winked at me. Or maybe he had something in his eye.
Didn’t matter, he was leaving. Whew.
Brynne turned and watched Owen head toward the parking lot. “What was that about?”
“I think he’s just happy someone took his side. But sorry—didn’t realize he’d ask me out just because I defended UFOs. Just seems like the way my luck is going.” My neck muscles tightened as I stressed over whether or not the invisible harassment party would be waiting for me when I went to my next class.
“That, or you must’ve given off a sweetie vibe when you rescued Owen’s speech from Lindsay’s clutches. I’m glad you did, even if he did end up asking you out. Maybe I should have stuck up for him too, but wow—UFOs?” Brynne smiled wide and I knew she wasn’t mad Owen had asked me out. She waved both hands at Nicole, who stood across the courtyard, chatting up two guys from the football team. “Nicole, if you want to do this, let’s get moving!”
“Subtle,” I said, then glanced toward the hall to make sure no spirit had turned visible.
Brynne turned to me. “Any word from Alex since your group date?”
I shook my head. “Not even a text.”
She put a hand on my arm. “I’m sure he still likes you. Maybe he’s shy.”
“Who knows?” I said, dismissing thoughts of Alex for the time being. Shy or not, the guy didn’t seem interested in getting to know me. Maybe I didn’t know much about him either. Sigh. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about though. It’s really important.”
With the worst timing ever, Nicole picked that instant to bounce over to us. “Let’s go do this quickly before I change my mind.”
“Hang on.” Brynne swiveled toward me, wearing a concerned look. “What’s going on? It sounds serious.”
Nicole checked her watch. “Something’s serious? Then spill, quickly. Time’s a ticking.”
With Brynne’s eyes focused on me intently and Nicole’s foot tapping impatiently, I bit my lip. I couldn’t make myself tell them about the ghosts stalking me. What if they thought it was leftover Ouiji board willies and they laughed at me?
“Forget it,” I said, then started off toward the parking lot.
Brynne eyed me strangely, but soon got lost in Nicole’s chatter about some party the football players were going to this weekend and how we should all totally go. I’m thinking I should pass on the party since it might be a little too crowded with me and my phantom posse.
We drove to the mall and I supported my best friend as she got another hole punched in her lobe. On the ride back to school, Brynne and Nicole debated what kind of punishment Nicole would get for disobeying her dad.
When they paused, I figured this might be a good moment to tell them about my spooky stalkers. But when I opened my mouth, fear poured through me. What if they thought I was just imagining things? Although there’s no way I could have misinterpreted a moving pen. Yes, some supernatural was stalking me for sure.
But what if they didn’t believe me?
Then the topic turned to Alex, and I chickened out on confessing to them. Nicole agreed with Brynne that Alex could just be shy around girls. And when I asked about her freaking Ouija board claiming he’d kiss me, she admitted to moving the planchette to “YES” to get me excited for my date. But she swore that was the only time she’d moved it. She seemed to be telling the truth so I decided not to press her further.
I had enough on my mind.
Like whether or not the spirits were still in the hall waiting for me.
****
After lunch, Brynne had to talk to a teacher and said she’d meet me in class. I thought about following her, but opted to remain outside the school building as I debated whether or not I should go to class at all. I stood outside the double doors to the hall, fin
gering the strap of my backpack until the last bell rang. Lingering students made a dash inside and then I was left all alone.
Well, hopefully.
It’s not that I was against ditching class. I mean, my teachers already had it in for me so what difference would skipping school make? But I needed to accept that something supernatural was going on here. That they were probably following me. If they were, they’d just haunt me at home so I may as well face them now where I’d have witnesses and hopefully some back-up.
I adjusted the backpack on my right shoulder, gripped the handles of my beaded purse, and stepped out of the afternoon daylight into the cool hall. It was deathly quiet. As if they were waiting for me. No back-up in sight because everyone was already in class. Sigh.
I took a step on the dirty tile and the clomp from my boot heel echoed down the corridor. My gaze darted around, as I waited for something to fly at me.
Everything stayed in place: the hand-painted posters, beat-up lockers, fluorescent lights. All the same. But, all of a sudden, the air in the hallway felt different. Warmth spread through me, as if a heating pad surrounded my body.
They were here.
I tried ignoring them again, but they were having none of it this time.
“You have the wrong girl.” My voice was shaky and the word “girl” echoed lightly down the hall. “Seriously. I’m not psychic and I only played that Ouija game because my friend wanted me to. I don’t know how to guide you into the light.”
Instead of leaving me alone, the air pulsed around me like a hula-hoop. I wanted to run, but my boots felt attached to the tiles. My legs were like lead. A whimper escaped my mouth. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Next, a weighted feeling pressed against my chest, pushing hard, and I was helpless to stop it. “Please . . . someone . . . help.”
My mouth had moved, but no sound came out. The halls were empty anyway. Nobody to save me. I tried to run, wanted to escape, but invisible pressure shoved into me like a ten-ton bulldozer. It was all I could do to keep myself upright.