by Andy Lewter
He stared back, deadpan. Without a blink, he shifted the truck into first gear and spun out — the tires kicked up snow, dirt and rocks all over my car that was parked behind us.
I shrieked. I helplessly watched my poor car get littered with the remains of the road from the snowstorm. His deep laugh bellowed inside the truck.
"What do you think you're doing?" I punched him hard in the shoulder. He obviously has no respect for other people's property.
And then I froze.
I had to stop and think about what I'd just done. I had never punched anyone before. It was more of a reaction than I expected it to be. On top of that, it felt good. Why was I suddenly so violent?
"That was for your stubborn attitude all morning." He smiled after he was able to catch a breath from laughing. "And it looks like I'm going to have to teach you how to punch if that's how you plan to defend yourself."
"Maybe I could start practicing with your face," I spat, crossing my arms and scooting as far away from him as I could. I could practically feel my blood boiling. First, I lied to my sister for this boy, then he trashed my car, and now he has the nerve to make fun of my punching! I wondered how quickly I could run back to my car.
"If you think it'll make you feel better, I give you permission." He breathed calmly after several moments, his laughing finally at an end. His expression was humbled — his eyes appeared pained and worried. It was almost as if he were holding something back — like he had more to say. I waited expectantly for him to say what it looked like he wanted to. But instead, he turned and concentrated on driving along the white covered road ahead of us.
"Oh, be serious," I said, all anger now diminished. Now I was thinking about what he could be keeping from me.
"So what's the deal with my sister? How come you're avoiding her all of the sudden? Didn't you ask her to sit with you at lunch?" I asked him a moment later, attempting to change the subject and avoid the sudden awkwardness between us.
"I never asked her anything. It was all a misunderstanding." He sighed, trying to keep the conversation short. But I wasn't about to be fooled.
"Okay, so why didn't you tell her it was a misunderstanding?" I pressed on. It wasn't fair for him to lead someone on like that, especially when the victim was my sister. "You know, all this would go a lot smoother if you just handled everything civilly. I'm sure she'd be over it faster than you'd realize," I rambled. But it was clear he wasn't going to talk about this anymore.
I watched his house come and go on the gravel road — the roar of the engine grew loud with the deafening silence inside the truck.
This was the first time I'd ever felt uncomfortable with Miles. We could usually finish each other's sentences, know what the other was thinking without speaking, and even sat in comfortable silences.
But this day was different.
Ever since the first day of school three years ago, we had been best friends and couldn't picture it any other way. I never felt nor desired anything more than friendship with Miles. At first I thought he was being nice to me due to the rumors that filtered around the school about my father's passing. But I learned overtime that he never held any interest with gossip. With as many girls that obsessed over him, I'd been expecting him to have a girlfriend now and then. To my surprise, he'd never seemed interested in the girls in our school. Actually, he hadn't been interested in any girls, even outside of school.
Where are we going? What is he keeping from me?
I sat there, digging for a logical answer in my mind that I couldn't seem to find. I wasn't sure how long the silence lasted, or even how long the truck was idling at a stop before I realized we were parked in an open field.
I looked over at Miles, caught off guard by how numb I apparently was to my surroundings. He watched me calmly with bright green eyes, filled with an emotion I'd never seen before. Pulling in a slow, patient breath, he leaned back in his seat and raked his fingers through his chestnut brown hair, and peered lazily out the windshield in front of him.
"Umm… where are we?" My voice cracked. It was the only thing I could manage to force out without having the other questions get in the way.
"Is that really what you want to ask me, Abigail Everett?" he asked eerily, staring blankly ahead.
He just called me Abigail. No one ever called me Abigail. I think the last time I heard my full name was the first day of school and I had quickly corrected all the teachers, asking them politely to call me Abby.
"What the… why did you just call me Abigail Everett?"
I had never seen this side of Miles. What had changed in the past twenty-four hours? I couldn't find any explanation. Whatever was bothering him had to be a misunderstanding.
No answer.
The silence grew louder. It was like he was waiting for me to ask the right question.
"Can you please tell me what's going on, Miles Kavin?" I glared, pulling myself back to reality. If he was going to say my full name, then I was going to do the same — no matter how childish it was. I had to stop beating myself up over something that certainly wasn't my fault. It was uncalled for him to treat me this way.
His eyes never left the windshield, but it became obvious that he was suddenly fighting a smile. He finally turned to me, revealing all of his brilliant white teeth, with a warm look crossing his features. It was the familiar, natural grin that I'd always known — I was relieved to see it again. I also noticed that his olive-toned complexion had a sort of glow about it. It almost seemed to be illuminated. I found it quite alluring. Why hadn’t I ever noticed it before?
He held his breath and closed his eyes, still facing me.
"Abby, have you noticed anything different?"
I thought for a moment, over everything that had happened between us since the day first started.
"Yes. I've noticed you acting like you've wanted to say something that you haven't," I answered quickly, assuring myself I had done nothing wrong.
He opened his eyes again, looking deep into mine — searching for something. "There is something I want to tell you… or talk to you about. But I can't. You have to understand that. But I think it's only a matter of time now until you'll know."
"Know what? What are you talking about, Miles?"
"Have you noticed any changes? Like, maybe you're able to do something now that you couldn't before? It would be new." His voice dropped an octave on 'new'.
I raised a brow but didn’t answer.
He nodded his head like he understood something. "I have faith that you will understand soon," he smiled softly, his eyes bright and hopeful.
I turned away from his gaze and started digging — digging in my head for what he could possibly mean.
"Abbs," he took in another shallow breath. "What's your grandfather's name? Your father's father?"
"Gerald…" I answered slowly, confused about where this conversation was going. What does my grandpa have to do with this?
"And your grandfather's father's name was Liam Everett, just like your dad's name," he stated matter-of-fact.
"Did you do ancestry work for me or something? What does my great-grandpa have to do with what we were just talking about?"
Miles opened his eyes and bit his lip, deep in thought. This conversation was apparently hard for him.
But that didn't matter — I didn't understand any of it.
"Okay, I know this has to be very confusing for you, and I apologize in advance. But it's of the utmost importance that what we talk about here stays between us. Well…" he chuckled darkly, "I don't expect you to understand much from this conversation anyways."
It felt like I wasn't sitting anymore, more like I was floating above my seat — my mind swimming in confusion and my stomach flipping a thousand times at once.
What does he know that I don't?
"Abbs," he pressed sternly, pulling me out of my trance. "I want you to think, really think about anything new that's happened to you. Your answer may not come for a little while yet, but I nee
d you to do something for me." He reached over and pulled a purple spiral notebook out of his door pocket and handed it to me with shaky hands.
He met my eyes and I knew he could read the confusion in them. I took the notebook from his grasp and placed it on my lap, searching his features for the answers he wasn't giving me.
"I want you to write anything and everything that happens to you in here, no matter how minor it may seem to you. And when the time comes, you can look back at everything you've written and you'll understand why I've asked you these questions today."
He paused for a moment. "Well, you'll understand some of the questions I asked you today." The familiar grin I knew came back.
He gave me a few moments to let what he'd just told me settle in. It was one of the few times in my life that I was absolutely speechless. I couldn't think — I couldn't speak, and all I wanted to do was focus on making my body stop feeling like I was floating above my seat.
Once I was able to pull myself back together, I closed my eyes and shook my head in confusion.
"I don't understand, Miles. There is nothing different today than there was yesterday. The only thing different here is the way you've been acting all day." That was the best explanation I could give him. That was the best explanation I could give myself.
"I know this is really confusing for you Abbs — but I'm trying to help you. And most importantly, I'm here to let you know that you're not alone. Will you please do what I asked?" His voice was pained. It seemed he had reached the end of his rope and couldn't elaborate any further.
"So, you want me to write in it like a diary every day?"
"I guess you could see it like that."
"I think I can handle that." I narrowed my eyes "You're not going to break into my house and steal it are you?"
"I might have to if there's anything about me in there…" he said smugly, catching onto my transition in the conversation.
Without another word, he threw the enormous truck into first gear and took off into the depths of the snow, tearing around the empty field we had been parked in. We were both glad to have a distraction. Driving in a field recklessly wasn't something I normally approved of, but I was glad to have my mind free again.
****
It was just about nightfall when we started heading back to my car. We had spent the majority of the day trying to find the biggest snowdrift to plow the truck through and just finished having a drawn out snowball fight in the woods. Where had the day gone?
The purple notebook that I refused to acknowledge was resting by my feet. The closer we got to my car, the more the conversation from earlier was coming back and haunting me.
Miles pulled up next to my car and grabbed an ice scraper from behind the seat. His face was still flushed from the snowball fight we’d just had. I was surprised to see pain in his eyes as he hesitantly looked into mine.
"Abbs, can you promise me something else?"
"That depends…" I couldn't fathom what else was coming. I had already agreed to write in the stupid diary — what else did he want?
"I want you to promise you'll come to me if things start getting… weird," he paused for a minute and nervously ran his fingers through his hair. "And I promise I won't make fun of you, no matter what you have to say." He said this sincerely, watching my expression.
"Oh… okay." I blinked. I wished more than anything that I knew what he was talking about. What am I missing? And why can't he tell me what he is talking about?
But I was tired of being studied like a science experiment. I leaned over, picked up the notebook and reached for the handle.
"Wait, one more thing…" he stammered, holding up an index finger.
"Let me guess," I snapped. "Want to interrogate me more? Am I on candid camera?" I looked around enthusiastically. "Or maybe this is all one crazy dream that I’m going to snap out of at any second." I stared blankly at him. This conversation had just graduated far past awkward.
He paused and blinked in response to my outburst, and bless him — he kept going as if I'd never said anything.
"I think you'll understand if you keep your mind clear and focused." He placed his hand back down on his lap, appearing to have accomplished his motive.
Pushing down my desire to stay and ask questions, I quickly opened the door and jumped out into the blustery cold.
"Whatever you say, Captain Jack."
To my surprise, Miles got out of the truck too. He followed me to my car and dusted the snow and dirt off my windshield.
He made the mess. He should clean it up.
It didn't take him long to finish — but after the last brush he turned around without even a glance in my direction.
"Later tator," he shouted as he walked off. Then he jumped back into the truck and disappeared into the darkness.
Chapter 3
"Hey, can you take notes for me in trig? I'm going to ditch to get a pair of shoes," Olivia asked while leaning against her locker, watching me grab my books for the next class. The lockers in our school were arranged in alphabetical order. So of course, ours were next to each other.
"Why can't you wait till after class to go shopping? It's the last class of the day," I said in a condescending tone.
I'm not sure how she continuously gets away with ditching without getting caught. Or worse, how she always convinces me to do her dirty work.
"Oh, come on." She leaned in closer, focusing on my hair. She ran her fingers through the strands as if she were fixing it to her liking.
"Ugh… fine. But you're doing the dishes after dinner," I said, pushing her hand away from my hair.
"Deal." She grinned triumphantly. "See you in a few hours." She gave me an enthusiastic peck on the cheek and strode off into the crowd, disappearing down the hall.
Frustrated, I slammed my locker shut.
"Letting your sister have her way again, huh?"
I jumped and grasped my chest, taking in a deep breath to let my senses go back into place. Miles was standing behind my locker door wearing a sarcastic smirk.
"You scared me — don't do that," I stammered.
Seeing Miles now, as it did every day, reminded me of the snow day a little over two weeks ago. I expected things to be awkward between us, especially on my part for being entirely clueless at what he was trying to tell me, without telling me. But somehow, we were both able to act like that day never happened. We came to school the next day and everything — to my surprise — seemed normal with zero awkwardness. But I was keeping up my end of the bargain by writing in the stupid diary every night. I just prayed that Olivia or one of her friends wouldn't stumble upon it and have my life's history of the past two weeks in their hands.
Miles laughed and began walking with me to our class. It was the only class we shared together, and he's better at trigonometry than I am. He always finds it hilarious when the smart girl has to ask questions about a problem we're on.
As we entered the classroom, the bell rang and we quickly grabbed our seats in the back. The girls, as they always did, rearranged themselves when they noticed Miles in their presence. I sat and stared, intrigued by how they all reacted to him.
As class started, instead of listening to Mr. Varner's instructions and taking notes, I was studying the group of three girls sitting in the row ahead of us. They were all friends and had a clique of their own — one that my sister was likely to be in and not me. They had name brand clothes, wore way too much make up and had visible hair spray in their hair.
But that wasn't what caught my interest — it wasn't the reason I was unable to focus on the lesson in class.
I was focused on the girl sitting directly in front of me, named Tammy. I couldn't quite grasp what had come over me — or why I was distracted in one of my more difficult classes. Curiosity maybe? No it was something else — something much more substantial than curiosity.
And then it hit me — drawing me in at once.
I gripped my desk as all my breath rushed out. An overpoweri
ng force consumed me, giving me no choice but to cede. An intense deep humming pulsed against my eardrums, so loud that I expected them to rupture — but I felt no pain. My vision went black and I became so overwhelmed, it was all I could do to keep breathing.
I was sure everyone else was screaming, panicking — but I couldn't hear them. Just as I knew they wouldn't hear me. So I composed my emotions and determined to either wake from this nightmare, or pull myself out of this drowning, low humming sound.
I was relieved that my sister decided to skip class. She wasn't here to endure this experience. And that meant she’s okay.
Concentrating hard on pulling myself out of this trance, I forced in a deep breath. I had to overcome it, there had to be a way.
I cleared my mind and pulled in one ragged breath at a time. It was impossible to ignore a sound of such magnitude, and it was then that something occurred to me. I decided to accept it — I accepted the deafening hum.
Several moments passed. Sweat secreted from my pores because of my deep concentration. Eventually, the hum weakened and streaks of light started to break into my vision. But I couldn't let my guard down now — I needed to focus.
My vision returned little by little. The hum was still there, but it lessened as the light grew brighter. I kept my breathing steady — aware that this was my only grip on bringing my senses back into balance.
The low hum slowly grew tolerable — though it was still there, and I was now able to turn my attention elsewhere.
I was then able to hear the muffled voice of Mr. Varner teaching his lesson. How can he be teaching at a time like this? This is an emergency, people!
After what seemed like hours, I eventually regained enough of my vision that I could barely make out the classroom. Apprehensively, I looked around — looking to see if anyone else had regained their sight like me.
I exhaled in utter disbelief. My classmate's weren't panicking — most were taking notes along with the lecture and hadn't noticed the mind-numbing sound that I had just experienced.
