What’s with her?
Like the good friend that she was, Kris knew I hated pretzels, even the smell. It amazes me that people can eat them when they taste like camel piss. Not that I actually know what camel piss tastes like, but I’m pretty sure it’s pretzel flavored.
“Muffin?” she asked. “There’s cranberry and apple crumb.”
“Umm.” My stomach felt off, but I was still hungry after the soup. “Maybe yogurt instead.”
She handed me a Mountain Blueberry yogurt and sat on the bed. We ate and chatted, and then she held my hand when my stomach didn’t like having food after all. I kept it down, though, and then fell asleep at some point. I woke up later, finding the room empty, and my bladder making me get up whether I wanted to or not. I was washing my hands before I realized Marcus hadn’t said a word in a while. The morphine. Doh. I laughed out loud, even though it vibrated my head in a painful way.
When I opened the door, Kyle was there, sitting in a chair so close to Kristina that their knees touched as he leaned in toward her, making their own little private space. It was only the tiniest of memories that I dated Kyle for six months before he and Kristina were an item. That was ancient history, though. Especially to them.
I moved enough for them to notice me. Kyle glanced at me for a millisecond before dropping his gaze to the floor.
“What’re you laughing about?” Kris asked me while swatting his hand away from her knee.
I walked carefully to the bed with the drip pole, just in case I wasn’t a hundred percent yet, before answering. “I thought I heard some weird noises, but it’s better now, and I realized it was the morphine. I was high for a while or something.”
On morphine? I’m not so sure about that, babe.
Oh, what do you know? I brushed him off until I realized I’d heard him again. Kyle might have given Kristina a look. I caught the expression on her face as she tried to convey something to him without me seeing.
“Funny, huh?” I asked, settling back and pulling the blanket up to cover the hospital gown.
Kris stood up, playing with the zipper on her gray jacket. “I’m going to the nurse’s station to ask when you’re being discharged. This is getting crazy. They keep telling me one thing but nothing happens.”
I gave a weak okay as Kyle hopped up and followed her out. He wore loose jeans and an oversized black hoodie today. Sometimes I wonder what I ever saw in him. He’s not super tall for a guy, maybe 5’7”, with light brown hair and blue eyes. He’s good looking, but when I think about it, he’s kinda plain too.
It sounded like the voice huffed an irritated sigh, like I was bothering him by thinking. Hello, it was my brain.
I prefer Marcus to “the voice.”
Marcus. That’s all I knew about him, his name. It had to be from the concussion, which meant it’d go away. The doctor said I was fine … except they hadn’t released me yet.
I’d be in the car with just Kris and Kyle for the drive home. They’ve been together a year now, and I was pretty sure he’d propose sometime soon. Or maybe I was wrong, and he’d wait until after graduation. But by all accounts, they were on the road to getting engaged, graduating, getting married and starting a life together. Buying a house. Having kids. But whatever. I have work to focus on anyway. Except now I’m hearing voices in my head.
Voice. Just one, babe.
“Oh, you are still here. I haven’t scared you off yet?” I’d started in a normal voice but dropped off to a whisper.
Nope. So are we getting out of here soon? I can’t take the walls anymore.
“Yeah, we’re waiting to get discharged.” I stopped and watched the door for a second. “Then we have a short drive back to Ashland. Where do you live? What year is it for you?”
You gotta get off the “you’re a ghost” thing. Christ. I’m not dead. Okay, we’re moving on. You said Ashland? Where’s that?
“Maybe Ashland is too tiny for you to recognize. How about Eugene?”
Ahh, no.
“Portland?”
Portland, Maine?
“What? No. Oregon.”
We’re in Oregon?
“Are you from the East Coast or something?”
I don’t know … that doesn’t feel right. Avery, did anything weird happen before or after your accident?
“Besides suddenly hearing someone talking in my head? No. I was perfectly normal, hoping to get home in time to read a while before bed, and then I went flying and landed on my head. Maybe I should ask you that question. Did anything weird happen to you before you woke up in my head?”
A pause, a long one.
“Well?”
I don’t know.
“You don’t seem to know much of anything besides your name. How is that going to help us? What’s your last name? Where are you from? Marcus?”
Hey, look at that, you finally said my name.
I heard Kyle’s laugh down the hall. They paused outside the door, talking for a minute before coming in. The nurse came by to remove my IV and let me get dressed in my normal clothes. Then, at long last, Dr. Hartley came through and discharged me. Kyle acted like he was more than ready to head back. He and Kristina probably made plans for tonight. He went to get the car while they wheeled me to the front door in a wheelchair, per hospital policy.
It was almost dark outside. Maybe six something? I pulled in a deep breath of fresh air, mostly relieved to be out of there. There wasn’t any reason why I couldn’t come back if this didn’t clear up.
Kristina sat up front in Kyle’s low rider racing car, as he called it. It was a suped-up Honda with giant speakers and after-factory upgrades. It was the same stupid car he had driven me around in, bragging about all the expensive parts he put into it.
I sat in the back seat with my head lying back on the rest. I let them talk up front and pretended to doze off. I did so well at pretending I think I actually did fall asleep until Marcus started talking again. It occurred to me that maybe we knew each other somehow, in some vague way that wasn’t connecting right now. So I stopped him to ask, Who are you? What do you like to do?
I know I love to snowboard, skateboard, hike, white water kayak, and about anything else I can do outdoors. I’m not sure what I was doing before this … probably shredding some fresh pow. I just know I’m here, wherever here is, where you can hear me.
What’s fresh pow?
Fresh powder? Snow. You know the stuff on the mountains. I also know I don’t like being stuck somewhere, not able to do anything. It’s like you plucked me out of my life and wiped my memory.
Well, lo siente and all, but I didn’t invite you in, either. It’s not like I went out and kidnapped you. I’m going crazy here, and you’re complaining about being stuck IN MY HEAD. See where I’m coming from? Maybe we can figure out what’s going on and get rid of you.
As they say, make my day.
Chapter Two
“Avery? Do you want help getting to your room?” Kristina’s hand rubbed my arm through my sweater. I rubbed my eyes, still not liking how I felt when I woke up. Hopefully that would go away soon. I’d have to read my discharge instructions.
For crying out loud …
“I think I can manage,” I said, sliding out of the car. “You’re not coming in?” It’d started sprinkling.
“We’re going to catch a movie … unless you want me to stay with you?” She glanced in the car, at Kyle. “Or you could come?”
“No, don’t worry about me.” I reached in for my bag while she went to the trunk for the rest of my stuff. She gave me a bag from Taco Bell.
“I slept through the drive-through?” I asked, confused, because I’d been talking to Marcus, right?
Dude, yeah.
“You were out of it. Still feeling okay?” She looked me over as if her layman’s eyes might see something.
“Avery!” Jazz called, bouncing down the front steps, pulling a herd of helium balloons behind her. She’d tied her long, black hair up in a knot in a way
my hair refuses to do. “Welcome home!” She landed right next to me, engulfing me. I noticed Dawn coming down the steps too. We all rent together—me, Dawn, Kristina and Jasmine—and go to Southern Oregon University.
Everyone started talking, including Marcus, until Kyle stood up by the driver’s side and cleared his throat.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” Kris turned and planted a kiss on my cheek as she hugged me. “I’ll check on you later, ’kay?”
Once she got in, the car pulled away slowly, almost like an apology because that wasn’t Kyle’s usual driving style.
“Hmm.” Jazz raised an eyebrow at the retreating car. She didn’t say more, which we don’t around Dawn.
“Thanks for the balloons,” I told Jazz as the three of us walked up to the house. It felt strange that everything looked the same. Our wide, covered cement porch greeted me like usual. We rented an old white farmhouse on the edge of a small but nice college town. The farms disappeared years ago, and newer houses came, but they were mostly rented by college students on this street.
“Want to watch a movie here?” Jazz asked. Dawn went back to cooking something in the kitchen and said she was up for a movie.
Not the best time. Kinda stuck in an emergency right now.
I started to shake my head but a spark of pain stopped me. “I really just want to lie down and rest. Thanks, though.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile, and I faltered, imagining how great it’d feel to spill this entire mess to her. Just as quickly, I saw how it’d look. As I made my way down the long hallway to my room, in the back of the house with its own tiny bathroom, I fantasized about falling into bed … but I’m a problem solver, and I couldn’t just go to sleep while I had voices in my head. I dropped my things on my cedar hope chest where I store stuff that I don’t use too often, like snow wear. The balloons had a small weight so I set it on my dresser. Then I hit the power button on my laptop and let it fire up while I changed into my thermal pajamas.
The entire day was gone … just like that. With a sigh, I peeked in the fast food bag. Kristina had gotten me a seven layer, which is what I always get from Taco Bell. When we go to the college cafeteria, I always get the ham, bacon and Swiss sandwich. At our fave Mexican place, I get shrimp nachos. Starbucks, a mint mocha. Well, mint in the winter, and iced Chai in the summer. Kristina knows all of these. She also never puts me down for being boring.
Sweet room. How’d you end up with this one? Pull seniority or something?
Would Jazz hear me with my door shut? I didn’t think she could, unless she was right outside. My room is at the end of a hall so I decided it was safe enough to whisper.
“I pay the most rent so I can have the room with a bathroom.” It was just a room with one big window and a small bathroom, but I loved my space, and, unlike my roommates, I tried to keep anyone else out as much as possible.
Job? Or a rich daddy?
I chewed and swallowed the last bite of my seven layer and said, “Mind your own freaking business. I just wanted my own bathroom.”
What’s with the notes on the walls?
He was looking at my screenplay board. I pointed to one set of papers and explained they were character bios, another section had notes on the plot, and the third section had some issues I was trying to work out. It was a mess at this point, really, but I didn’t have time for that right now. First I’d take care of this problem, and then put all of my focus back on my work.
Work?
“Well, I use some of it for school assignments.”
Then?
“I want to sell it someday. I’m going to make it, like my mom.”
Is she famous?
“No … she should have been, though. Mom was a fantastic writer and sold a few novels before she died. She just didn’t get her chance.”
And the picture over there—do you paint too?
I paused while putting clothes away and looked at the painting of a wet street with a silver and gray cloudy sky. It had water everywhere, on the street and dripping off the building just barely visible from the edge. Watery sunlight shone through the clouds and reflected off everything.
“Jazz did that for me. She’s an art major, and she knows I love how light plays on the clouds and surfaces after a rain.”
Yeah, the lighting is awesome. She did a really great job.
I’ve always loved silvery clouds and soft sun spots coming through. Even as a kid, I would run outside right after it rained to look at raindrops, wet roads and the clouds.
But we needed to get back on task. On top of being a problem solver, I’m a list maker, which kinda goes hand in hand, in my opinion. So I opened a Word doc and typed: Possible Causes. Under that I listed:
Side effect from concussion
Side effect from morphine
Stress—maybe hitting my head just pushed me over the brink
Emergence of some mental disorder
That idea stopped me cold … somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered my dad telling me his brother went off the deep end. I’ve never met that brother. My parents died so I couldn’t ask them. But, at the very least, I could research online.
I looked at the list and added:
Ghost haunting me
A telepathic person playing a joke on me
Some other magical explanation, which probably goes back to a mental disorder
So either I was having side effects or I was schizophrenic and it was just now presenting. Maybe … maybe I was suffering from temporary schizophrenia from my concussion. That had to be it. I launched Google and started digging, going into a few medical sites and discussion boards. Some weird stories there. It did occur to me that I hadn’t heard Marcus in a while, but I wasn’t going to point that out to him. Maybe it was wearing off already.
Why not celebrate with a cup of cocoa? I’d bought a Nescafe Dolce Gusto so I could make cocoa and coffee in my room, which sounds lazy, I know, but it’s more about keeping it in working order. Dawn puts no value on material possessions, and that’s cool, but she also doesn’t take care of anything. She’ll use other people’s stuff and leave it dirty. Then there’s Kyle and Brandon, who can be rough on things. More than one thing has walked out of this house, and it’s impossible to track those things down.
After my drink, and a few minutes on Facebook, my day actually started to pick up. I’d finished my paper on Friday so I wasn’t behind on any school work. It wasn’t until I walked into the bathroom that I wondered where Marcus had gone. More importantly, could he see me? It seemed pretty quiet in my head. I hadn’t exactly felt him there before, had I? I wasn’t sure now. Feeling uncertain—okay, embarrassed—I hesitated for a full two minutes before I finally gave in. I’d changed already without worrying about him anyway.
A couple of minutes later, I brushed my teeth and decided the problem seemed to have resolved itself. I rinsed and then looked in the mirror. My hair looked a bit ratty. I haven’t cut it once since coming to college two and a half years ago, but I don’t do much with it. It’s a little wavy and light brown. For the most part, I like my face. I have an even collection of chocolate brown freckles that set off my bright blue eyes. Whenever I think my nose is too pointy, I remind myself at least it’s small. I don’t know. What’s the point of wanting to look different?
I turned on the shower to let it warm up. Maybe it would be fun to have something different and exciting in my life, but definitely something other than a voice in my head. That qualified for something other than exciting. And I didn’t want exciting right now—I wanted complete relaxation. I stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over me. Thankfully the old shower head didn’t spray water hard, but I was still careful getting my head wet.
Even with the extra sore area on my scalp, the warmth and shhhing of the water soothed me. I soaped my hair, which felt extra nice after foregoing a shower in the hospital, and poured shower gel into my hand to run over my body.
HOLY SHIT!
“
AH! Get out get out get out!”
I jumped and grabbed at the shower curtain, falling backwards.
And of course I slipped right out onto the floor, on my back, holding a piece of the curtain that had ripped off. I stared up blankly, listening to the water run, too shocked to think. To speak. To call for help.
Marcus was utterly silent.
“Ave? Ave!” Jazz pounded on my bathroom door.
Mortified, I tried to sit up. “I’m fine. Sorry. Just a bit slippery. But I’m fine.”
“Sure?”
“Sure. Thanks for checking.” I listened as she walked away before I wrestled my way up to my feet, a hand holding my throbbing head.
Um, sorry?
“If you were real, I’d kill you right now with my bare hands.”
Sorry, princess. But if it makes you feel any better, I think you’re pretty freaking hot.
Chapter Three
Marcus
Freaking A this sucks.
I’d give away a brand new snowboard for a good night’s sleep. I have no idea how this Avery person can sleep in such a tight ball. One thing’s for sure, no man could sleep after that—after feeling her soapy, wet, hot bod. It was the one and only perk to this shit fest, discounting the blue balls I’d have if I still had my balls.
Her phone buzzed again. I’d been dying to check it out, but this time her hand jerked. Yes, yes, YES, I moved her hand! I reached for her pink-with-beads-on-it Iphone. Couldn’t hesitate in case I lost control. I opened her texts:
Hi there Avery. Just heard. How are you feeling? Need anything? Your friend, Nash.
Oh. My. God. Yo, dude, you think that’s gonna impress anyone? Unless that was the kind of guy she liked. But, that did not jive. This chick had it going on and didn’t look like she should be into some geek. There were a couple texts from the guy. I deleted them. Why not? She’d taken over my life. I could mess with hers.
So, yeah, I was being an ass and knew it. Pretty sure I’m not usually like this, but I’m feeling a little entitled right now. I mean, check this shit out. I tried screaming and jumping out of bed but nothing happened. Then I even lost control of her hand. The phone fell back on the bed. She made a little noise and rolled over. Gonna be a long night.
All In My Head (First Tracks Book 1) Page 2
