Into the Deep

by Lauryn April

  Christy would have looked down on Tiana for seeing Brant. She would have been mean and I can understand how that would have been scary for Ti. But it wasn’t right. Tiana couldn’t stand up to Christy or any of us when it came to her and Brant, and she had sold me out to their judgmental critiques.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” I finally said. He nodded.

  “I just hope you’re different, don’t know why I’m letting you in to all of this because I thought she was different too. But that day you thought I called her a bitch, thought I called you one too, and you got right in my face about it and stood up for what you thought was right.” None of those other girls woulda done that for you.

  I winced at his thought, but he was right. Even now they were all off sitting at our usual lunch table and they were talking about me. I didn’t have to listen in on what they were saying, didn’t have to try and read their minds. I knew what they were doing, and it wasn’t standing up for me. I looked at Brant, my eyes meeting his, and in that moment I felt different. Maybe it was what had happened to me that made me that way, maybe not. For whatever reason, in that moment, looking into Brant’s eyes, I knew that I wasn’t some petty, vain Valley girl, even if that was the kind of girl I had chosen to be friends with in the past.

  “You’re right,” I said.

  For a moment his eyes widened as if he hadn’t expected me to agree with him. He looked as if he was about to say something, but then his eyes shifted. His gaze moved to focus on something behind me.

  “Look,” he said.

  I turned around

  “Eric Thompson.”

  I saw him then. He was walking toward the school from the student lot. He stomped as he moved, each step heavy. His black backpack was swung over one shoulder. I watched as he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his dark sweatshirt. Then I saw Brant walk past me.

  “Wait, Brant, what are you doing?”

  He stopped and turned back to face me. “You said you wanted to talk to him.” Then he turned back around and continued walking toward Eric.

  I sighed then followed after him watching as he flicked his cigarette off into the distance. Orange specks hit the asphalt and bounced back up into the air like the world’s smallest fireworks.

  “Hey, Eric,” he called out and I watched Eric stop and turn to face us.

  I caught up to Brant by the time he reached him.

  “Hey,” Eric said, his brown eyes bouncing back and forth between Brant and me.

  “We just wanted to ask you a few things.”

  Eric pushed his black hair out of his eyes.

  Well go on then, read his thoughts. Brant looked to me.

  “It’s not that easy,” I mumbled. I couldn’t just look at him and see if he was the person planning to kill us all. He had to think something about it that I could hear. I looked to the heavyset guy before us. “Hey, Eric, I um… I was just wondering how you’re doing.”

  His eyes narrowed on me.

  “You know, cause of, um…” I stumbled over my words unsure of what to say to him. I didn’t really know him; I hadn’t ever had a conversation with him.

  “She heard about you taking a hit to the pavement on Monday and felt bad,” Brant said.

  Why do you care? I heard Eric think. “I’m doing fine.”

  I tried to listen closely to his voice, tried to determine if it was the same voice I heard on Monday and the day before in the library. I didn’t think it was, but I couldn’t tell for sure. His voice was deep, but it didn’t sound quite right.

  “Right, I know this is weird,” I said, “I know we don’t really know each other very well, I just…” then finally it came to me what to say, “I was in the library yesterday, and I saw you… you seemed, upset and…”

  “Couldn’t have been me,” he said cutting me off. “I wasn’t here yesterday… I had a dentist appointment.”

  “Oh, sorry then, my mistake.”

  An awkward moment of silence passed and after that he turned from us and continued to walk toward the school.

  Really weird.

  Brant turned to me. “So, that’s it, we’re sure it’s not him?”

  “He didn’t sound the same, and he wasn’t here yesterday, so he couldn’t have been who I heard in the library.”

  “So why are you still staring at him as he walks away?”

  I turned to face him. “He just gave me a weird vibe.”

  11

  Keeping to Myself

  The rest of Friday I spent by myself. Brant went off with Jason and Skyler so I went to the library alone. This time I checked out a collection of short stories by Stephen King and took note that the girl behind the counter was named Charlotte Olsen. She was reading Orwell’s 1984 and used her time card as a bookmark. I didn’t talk to her, but filed her name away in my memory anyway.

  That night, Dad wasn’t home for dinner, and I remember Mom being quieter than usual. I chose not to listen in on what she was thinking. I didn’t want to know what was bothering her. After we ate, I helped Sadie with her math homework then pulled out the checkers board that dad and I used to play with when I was Sadie’s age. I let her win a few games.

  That weekend, I stayed in. It had been months since I’d spent a weekend at home. Months since I’d chosen to hang out with my mom and watch a movie instead of going out to a party, on a date or out to the mall with friends. Saturday night, when Mom and I were watching some romanticized vampire film and ate microwave popcorn, I realized that I’d missed doing that. I missed lounging on the sofa in my sweats with my hair pulled up in a pony, missed talking with my mom and laughing through mouthfuls of buttery popcorn goodness. It felt refreshing to have a night being me again, to have a night where I didn’t have to care about what to wear or if I’d say the wrong thing or if I was wearing enough makeup, or too much. It was fun, hanging out with Mom and Sadie. It made me feel normal again.

  I didn’t talk to Tiana or Christy at all that weekend, didn’t call Eliza to see what they’d been saying about me. I simply didn’t care. They could say what they wanted. For once I simply didn’t give a shit what they thought of me.

  On Sunday, I woke up early feeling great. Mom made blueberry pancakes for breakfast along with homemade grapefruit juice, and we all sat together to eat at the table. I watched as Sadie slathered syrup over her cakes then watched as Dad came down the stairs dressed for work.

  “Emily, have you seen my blue tie?” He held a dark red tie in his hand and looked at my mother expectantly.

  I saw him smile at me from where I was sitting at the kitchen table. Mom walked up to him then and gave him a peck on the lips.

  “It’s at the drycleaners.” She took the red tie he held and wrapped it around his neck. “This one will look just fine.”

  Dad tilted his head as she secured the knot. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  “I can’t believe they’re making you go in on a Sunday,” Mom said. Her fingers were fidgeting with the lapels of his suit coat.

  “I know I’ve been at the office a lot lately, but I’ll only be gone a few hours today. I promise.” Dad looked over to Sadie and me. “Love you girls, I’ll see you tonight,” he said and Sadie waved.

  I didn’t wave or say goodbye. I was listening to his thoughts.

  God, it’s already gotten so late. He was looking at his watch. Liz was expecting me ten minutes ago. If I didn’t have to get all dressed up like I was going to work, this would be so much easier. “Well I’ve got to go, I’m already late.”

  “Have a good day, honey.”

  He waved once more and then he was out the door.

  12

  Sorry Charlie

  Brant wasn’t at school on Monday. When I got there, I found myself looking around for him, but he wasn’t on the common. I noticed Skyler and Jason hovering in their usual spot against the building, standing in its shadow between the parking lot and the courtyard, but they were alone. In the distance I heard laughing and murmured conversation. S
tudents were shuffling in and meeting up on the courtyard, but there was no one I was looking for anymore. In that moment I felt alone, but it was brief.

  Intervention time, I heard in Eliza’s voice.

  I looked across the common to see her and Christy headed my way. In the distance, Damon and Tiana sat near the fountain. They glanced at me with wary eyes.

  “Ivy,” Christy said as they approached. “I’m so glad to see you.” Christy walked over to one side of me and Eliza went to the other. She put her arm around me and, as they flanked me, we all began to walk. “I know you’ve been on this sad downward spiral thing lately, but we want you to know we’re here to help.”

  Eliza nodded in agreement. “Everyone has their moments when they’re not thinking straight.”

  “Right, exactly, and just because you’ve totally lost touch with reality and have probably been hooking up with the school lost cause doesn’t mean there isn’t hope. We just have to look at the bright side, like how even on a diet you can still have chocolate cake. As long as it’s only a little slice, you know. The point is we’re here for you.”

  I stopped walking, forcing them to stop with me. “Alright, stop,” I said. “First off, I am not and have not I been hooking up with the school ‘lost cause,’ and, second, I’m not in a downward spiral, I haven’t lost it.”

  God, it’s so much worse than I thought, “I know you’re upset about Steve not being into you, but…”

  “Whoa, Steve wasn’t not into me, I wasn’t into him. Remember, I was the one that left the beach that night. Look, I don’t need your help because there’s nothing wrong with me.” I pushed away from them and started to walk off.

  Wow, what a stuck up bitch, I heard Eliza think, but I ignored it.

  “Did that really just happen?” Christy asked Eliza astonished.

  Their voices faded away into the distance as I made my way inside the building.

  I didn’t talk to any of them again that day. I planned to spend my lunch hour in the library again and enjoy my peace and quiet. Walking through the halls on my way to the library, bagel and cream cheese in hand, I wondered where Brant was. I knew I probably shouldn’t. After all, he wasn’t exactly known for having great attendance, but ever since I found myself with this ability he’d been around. Most likely he was just skipping class, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he were home sick or had some kind of doctor’s appointment.

  I sat down at a table in the library and pulled out the Stephen King book that I’d checked out the week before. I didn’t open it though. I was thinking about the voice I’d heard in the library the week before. I was trying to think of what I should do next, what else could I do to stop the school from exploding, which in and of itself didn’t sound so bad. It was the part where whoever this guy was wanted to blow it up with everyone still inside that I found disturbing.

  I’d already talked to Eric Thompson and ruled him out. Brant had wanted to talk to Craig Fister, but I didn’t really know who he was so I decided to wait on questioning him until Brant was back at school. Still though, there had to be something else I could do. If it wasn’t Craig that I heard then we couldn’t just keep talking to people one after another. There had to be a better way to narrow it down. I just didn’t know how to go about trying to find someone solely on the sound of their voice.

  I finished my bagel and tossed the empty cream cheese container in a nearby trash can then I picked up my book. I flipped it open to where I’d bookmarked my page and tried to let the story suck me in. But I couldn’t concentrate. Every time I’d read a sentence, I’d find my mind wandering to thoughts of who this person was that wanted to kill us all. I thought about how lonely he must feel if there wasn’t a single person in the entire school that he wouldn’t want to see dead. I thought then about my friends out on the courtyard today, thought about how, for as long as I’ve known them, they’ve pushed their ideas of who I should be onto me. I thought about all the times I’d gone to a party that I didn’t really want to go to because it was the place to be, or changed how I dressed or did my hair a certain way because it was in style. Sure, sometimes I did things because I liked them, but more often than not it was about fitting in, something that whoever wanted to blow up the school must have felt like they didn’t do. Then I thought about Brant.

  Brant didn’t care what anyone thought of him. He was different from most everyone else at school, not that he wasn’t judgmental. After all, he thought I was just like Christy Noonan once upon a time. But he was willing to get to know me, something I knew my friends wouldn’t be willing to do for him. He was willing to keep my secret, willing to help me, to catch me when I fell.

  I shook the thoughts of Brant out of my head. I needed to focus on something else. I needed to figure out how to narrow down my search for this bomber from every male student in the school to something more manageable, like limiting it to just the people in the library last Thursday. If only I could watch the film from the school security cameras and see who had been in the library at the same time as me. I knew I couldn’t do that though. Then I realized that there was one person who I could ask that might remember who’d been here a little better than me-the girl working at the front desk, Charlotte.

  I got up from the table and walked over to the front desk. Charlotte was pulling her hair back into a ponytail. The light tips of it swayed as she looped the band one last time around her hair.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Um, yeah you can actually… this is going to seem a little odd, but you were working last Thursday when I was in here. I’m trying to find someone, a guy, that I heard talking. I don’t know his name, but he was… a little off. I guess I’m just wondering if you remember anything weird from Thursday, if anyone stood out?”

  She gave me a blank stare. Anything weird? This is the library, people have some interesting ideas of what a good read is, but nothing ever happens here, “No, I don’t remember anyone standing out last Thursday.” Except maybe, you, right at the end of the hour.

  “Right, um, do you remember any of the guys who were here last Thursday?”

  Other than Brant who was making googly eyes at you or his stoner friend? “Uh, a couple of guys from the football team were using the computers. I don’t really pay that much attention to people. I just scan the books you know. Oh, but that creepy senior guy, the one with the dreadlocks, he was here. I heard he skinned a cat once. That guy really creeps me out.” Not to mention how screwed up is it that he gets off killing animals.

  Craig Fister, I felt like yelling out ‘bingo’ after she described him. “That helps a lot actually, that might have been him. Thanks, Charlotte.”

  “Oh, uh. It’s Charlie. I go by Charlie, and you’re welcome.” She smiled.

  I nodded then walked away. It seemed that Brant had the right idea all along. I felt relieved to possibly know who the future bomber was, but also nervous for the same reason. If it was Craig, I still didn’t know how I was going to stop him.

  13.

  Can You find Me?

  On Tuesday, I got to school earlier than I had intended, avoiding Christy and the rest of my friends, if they were still friends. At that point I wasn’t sure what to consider them. I sat down in the soft grass with my book, resting my back against a tree. I didn’t hear him when he approached me, not his voice nor his thoughts, but I felt him standing before me. He had a heavy presence. He could be sly enough to walk up to me without making a sound, but the second he set his eyes on me, the weight of his gaze let me know he was there. I lowered my book and looked up to see Brant. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket; his eyes diverting their gaze as if I hadn’t already know he’d been staring at me.

  “Where have you been?” I asked him.

  “Not here, what’s it to you?”

  “Someone’s cranky,” I said as I closed my book and stood up to face him.

  He sighed. “Sorry, just haven’t had a great day so far is all.” He ran a ha
nd through his hair.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  A moment of silence passed between us.

  “So, what’d I miss yesterday?”

  I sighed, “Quite a bit actually. Christy and her fellow lemmings decided that I needed an intervention, so they confronted me and tried to knock some sense into me.”

  Brant looked to me with an expression that said he was worried they’d gotten through to me, as if anything they had said had been logical. But, he kept his cool. “How’d that go?” He asked.

  “Fine. I told them to back off and that I wasn’t crazy, haven’t talked to any of them since. So life is good on that front.”

  He raised one eyebrow at me. “You’re not upset about your friends not talking to you?”

  “I think I’m just feeling like I need a little break from them… but that’s not the most interesting thing about yesterday. I was in the library and talked to that girl at the front desk. She said Craig Fister was in the library last Thursday.”

  His eyes lit up. “Guess we need to have a talk with Craig then.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  “And it looks like now might be our best chance to do so.”

  I turned around and looked to where Brant’s sight was locked. Stepping off campus and walking toward the row of trees that led into a small wood on the other side of the parking lot was who I assumed was Craig Fister. He was tall and lanky, wearing a t-shirt that looked too big for his frame and jeans that sagged loose on his hips. His hair was a knotted mess of light brown dreadlocks which lumped down around his shoulders and his eyes moved in a shifty motion as he kept lookout for anyone who might catch him ditching out.

  Brant didn’t have to say anything to me to get me to follow him. We both left school, listening as the first hour bell sounded behind us. We made our way quickly across the parking lot. The entire way, I was hoping that this would turn out to be our guy. So far all the signs were pointing to him. He’d been in the right places at the right times and he had a history that suggested he was capable of doing something so monstrous as to try and kill us all. I realized then that I was also a little fearful. I felt nauseous and shaky at the thought that this was the person who was plotting all of our deaths and wondered if it was the wisest thing to be following him into the secluded woods.