by Amy Crandall
CHAPTER TEN
Abigale’s train of rational thought kicked into gear after she had taken a seat at the kitchen table.
I need to call someone.
She dialed the number she’d had memorized since eighth grade with shaky fingers. As she pressed the phone against her ear, she gingerly picked up the rose that still lay in the pizza box. Staring at it, her stomach started to burn. By the freshness of it, she figured it must have been purchased that day.
“Hey, Abby,” Tiffany’s cheerful voice filled the line, then bombarded Abigale with questions. “How was school? Did you make any new friends? How are your teachers? Are they treating you right? What’s the school like? Is it bigger than ours? Can—”
“Tiffany, not now,” Abigale cut in, letting the rose slip from her hand. It fell back into the box. She twisted in her chair to make sure no one was in the room with her. “Something’s seriously wrong.”
Tiffany was silent for a moment. Abigale swore she heard a pin drop. “Abby, you sound scared. Are you okay?”
Abigale swallowed hard. Her eyes fell upon the note again, the neatly written words taunting her. “I think someone broke in.”
“What?”
“I was just about ready to eat. Mom went out for dinner tonight, so I ordered a pizza. I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and I noticed that the plate I’d set was not where I left it, so I searched the house. When I was upstairs, I heard the front door slam shut.”
“My gosh, Abigale! Are you okay?” Tiffany’s tone rose a few octaves. She was definitely worried.
Abigale bit her lip, continuing with her story. “Because I had foolishly left my phone downstairs, I snuck back down to grab it. I tried calling Mom, but she didn’t answer. I went into the kitchen, opened up the pizza box, and found a note and a rose.”
“W—what did it say?”
Shaking, Abigale bent down and retrieved the note. She recited it over the phone, her voice cracking. When she was finished, she asked, “Am I just overreacting, Tiff? Is this just a prank that someone from school pulled?”
Tiffany was silent for a moment. “Did you make any enemies today?”
Abigale’s thoughts snapped to Donny and Bethany. “A couple, but I don’t think they’d do something like this.”
More silence. She walked across the room and pulled the curtain in the dining room shut, then proceeded to do the same with the rest of the windows downstairs. She snapped on a couple of lights to make sure it wasn’t too dark in the house. “You still there, Tiff?”
“Yes,” Tiffany replied quickly. “Call your mother again. If she doesn’t answer, leave a message for her to get home immediately. Then call me back. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“Do you really think this is serious?”
“I think anything is possible. You believe someone broke into your house. That’s pretty serious, Abby. I would suggest calling the cops, but you should see what your mother says first.”
Abigale froze. “You want me to tell my mother?”
“Uh, yes,” replied Tiffany. “Again, you think someone broke into your house and you got a creepy message in your pizza box. Not to mention the flower!”
“I can’t tell her,” Abigale said firmly. “I don’t need her worried about me. I’m sure I’m just overreacting. It’s probably nothing.”
“Abigale!”
She shook her head. “No, Tiff. I’m not telling her. I’m going to call to see when she’s getting home. I promise to call you right back.”
“No, Abigale—”
But Abigale had already hung up the phone.
***
When Abigale was forwarded to voicemail again, she left a vague message for her mother, asking when she would be home. She threw away the rose and was about to rip up the card when she froze. She reread the note. What if she received more? What if she ended up going to the police about it? She’d need evidence. Her fingerprints were already all over it, so it wouldn’t do any good in terms of forensics, but they still may want to see it. For this reason, and this reason only, Abigale kept the note.
She walked back into the dining room, eyeing the pizza box on the table. No longer hungry, however, Abigale closed the box and left it sitting on the table.
Padding back to the living room, she sat on the carpeted floor, her back pressed against the wall. Positioning her phone beside her, she fiddled with the note in her hands. She read it more than a few times, analyzing its contents and listing names of the possible sender. Surely there was a clue somewhere in the script, something to tell her who the anonymous writer was.
She tried recalling conversations she’d had over the course of the day, attempting to think of keywords that certain individuals may have said. Unfortunately, she came up blank. Who would send something like this to her as a prank anyway? Who would spend the money on the red rose that went with it? She could see someone planting the note as a joke, but the flower too? It didn’t make sense.
Her phone vibrated, startling Abigale from her thoughts. She glanced at the caller ID. It was Tiffany, probably freaking out on the other end of the line because her best friend hadn’t called her back. Abigale felt guilty, but she needed a bit of time to think.
She answered it. “I’m sorry, Tiff. I—"
“Did you get a hold of your mother?”
Abigale could sense the worried tone in her best friend’s voice. “No. I left a message. I haven’t been able to get her on the phone all evening.”
“All evening?” echoed Tiffany. “Someone breaks into your house and now you can’t get a hold of your mother? Abigale—”
Suddenly, the front door slammed shut and Abigale jumped, letting out a yelp in the process.
“Abigale? Abigale, what’s wrong?” Tiffany shouted frantically through the receiver.
“Abigale? I’m so sorry for not picking up my phone. I went for a drive after dinner.” Her mother’s heeled footsteps echoed across the floor. “Are you okay? You sounded pretty panicked in your voicemail.”
Abigale let out a breath of relief. The intruder hadn’t come back. It was only her mother. She was safe. For now.
***
It had been a long ten minutes. When Abigale’s mother had gotten home, and after she made sure Abigale was fine, she went on and on about her dinner and her new friend, whose gender she wouldn’t reveal. It made Abigale suspicious, but she was too busy trying to appear normal to question it.
Against Tiffany’s wishes, Abigale decided not to tell her mother about the possible break-in, figuring it would only make her mother worry about her, and they might face the possibility of moving again because of it. With her first day at school going rather well, Abigale didn’t want to risk it.
While they talked, they shared a piece of pizza. For some reason, her mother had still been hungry after her dinner out. Abigale had to choke down her piece.
Bidding her mother goodnight and kissing her on the cheek, Abigale went upstairs to her room, where she wanted to be in solitude.
She pushed the door open and exhaled. Gently closing the door behind her, she leaned on the wood, her shoulders sagging. The growing edge she’d felt earlier dissipated, leaving only exhaustion.
Peeling off her shirt, drenched in sweat from her earlier fright, she threw it across the room carelessly. Since they hadn’t been settled enough to get a laundry system set up, Abigale figured she’d make a pile for her dirtied clothes in the corner of the room. Even though she hated leaving her room cluttered, she knew she’d have to get used to it for a while.
Removing the rest of her clothing, she replaced it with a tank top and shorts. Feeling slightly refreshed, she brushed her teeth in the bathroom and removed the mascara from her eyelashes. From the quietness of upstairs, Abigale suspected her mother was still in the dining room. She didn’t feel very good about her being alone downstairs, but then again, she was alone upstairs. It wasn’t a good scenario either way.
Sighing, Abigale re-entered her room, ma
king sure to shut the door behind her. She scooped up the water bottle lying next to her sleeping bag and took a swig. Although the lukewarm liquid didn’t taste very pleasant, she was so thirsty that she could have drunk almost anything and would have been fine with it.
She padded over to the large window at the other end of the room and pulled open the curtain. Staring out at the darkened sky, her rigid muscles slowly loosened. She could get used to the sweet silence that a small town provided. It was a stark contrast to the busy streets of San Francisco.
As if some divine power was laughing at her thoughts, she heard a shout from outside the window. Startled, she trailed her eyes from the sky to the person standing in her neighbor’s yard. Cloaked in darkness, he looked suspicious. Her breath caught in her throat. Was it the intruder?
She shook her head when she heard the voice again. No, it wasn’t the intruder, it was her neighbor. The one who’d been overly helpful the past day. Damien.
Her heart rate slowed. She was just being paranoid. Abigale let the curtain drop over the window and climbed into her sleeping bag lying on the floor.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
There had been no other hair-raising incidents after the first night in Abigale’s new home. After she had stuffed the note into a drawer and the uneasiness had subsided, she focused on school and her new friends without any apprehensive thoughts. When the next Monday rolled around, Abigale had nearly forgotten about the incident. Her nightly talks with Tiffany took a lighter turn, with both of them collapsing into a fit of giggles by the end of their conversation.
She and Mike had gotten a little closer as well, much to Abigale’s concern. With his girlfriend Bethany being one of Jules’ best friends, Abigale tried to refrain from speaking with him alone. She tried to respect the fact that he had a girlfriend, but a small part of her was overjoyed by the fact that a guy could have an interest in her. No one from her last school gave her a second glance, but Mike did, and it filled her stomach with butterflies.
However, she was swift to squash those feelings. She couldn’t let her slow-growing feelings for Mike wreck her new friendships, and she didn’t want to be classified as a boyfriend-stealer. She knew better than to mess with another person’s relationship.
It bothered her when she began to daydream about Mike and what it would be like if they were to end up getting together. She always kicked herself for having those thoughts, but they invaded her mind whenever she thought about him.
On Tuesday morning, she had her seventh physics class with Bethany. Bethany never sat with her. She always sat on the far side of the classroom, the furthest she could from Abigale. She didn’t blame her though. Abigale had been ogling Bethany’s boyfriend the first time they met. Abigale would have been unhappy with her too if the roles were reversed.
On that day, Bethany did the unexpected. She plopped down beside Abigale on the empty chair, slamming her binder down on the desk. She looked rather upset. Abigale’s eyes narrowed as she analyzed Bethany’s face. Bethany appeared tired, with dark circles lining her eyes, and it made Abigale wonder if she had gotten any sleep the previous night.
“Good morning,” she said politely, pulling a mechanical pencil from her binder.
Bethany stared straight ahead. “Morning.”
Either Bethany was annoyed because Abigale was speaking to her, or something else was wrong.
“Are you all right?”
The blonde’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Abigale knew the answer before Bethany said it, but she was trying to show her some support. Maybe if she played her cards right, she could smooth things over with Bethany and start over.
"No."
With the small hope of rekindling a connection extinguished, Abigale left it at that. They didn't speak for most of the class, and only when they had to. When the bell rang, Abigale felt as if she could breathe again. There was so much tension between the two that it was hard to take. She tried to be kind to her numerous times, but Bethany had apparently made up her mind about her. Abigale figured she should stop trying so hard to be her friend and just accept the fact that they were always going to be rivals.
Still, she never accepted defeat. She decided as she walked out of the loud classroom that she’d keep being nice to Bethany to try and fix the five-second mistake she made when they’d first met.
Once they stepped into the hallway, the two split up without a word. Abigale headed to her locker, which was only a few feet from the classroom, while Bethany walked in the other direction. Abigale presumed it was to see Mike.
While balancing her textbook and binder in one hand, she undid the lock with the other. Once she opened the locker door wide enough to reach inside, she slid her physics textbook into its designated spot and took out her math book. Then she grabbed a granola bar, opened the package, and gripped the bar as she shut the door to her locker. When she did, Mike was leaning against the locker next to hers, his dazzling green eyes making her knees weak.
“Hello, Abigale,” he said, a hint of a smirk crossing his lips.
Her heart thumped inside her chest as she took a bite of the granola bar and removed it from her mouth. No! She scolded herself. Stop it!
She gave him a sheepish smile. “Hi, Mike.”
His grin widened when she said his name. “How was physics with Beth?”
She pushed the lock into the slot of the door, clipped it shut, and turned to him, taking another bite of her snack. “It was alright.” She looked past him. “Where is Bethany, by the way?”
Mike shrugged. “Not sure. I was just on my way to find her.”
Sure you were. Abigale wanted to roll her eyes but knew better. It was obvious Mike didn’t know he needed to stay away from her. It was only going to cause a load of trouble for both of them if they got any closer. Abigale didn’t want any trouble for the rest of the school year. She’d had enough of that in the past week to last a lifetime.
“I think she went that way,” Abigale said, jerking her head to the vast hallway behind her.
“Thanks. I’ll, um…I’ll find her later.”
Abigale clenched the granola bar in her fist. Why couldn’t he just take the hint and leave? Didn’t he know that his girlfriend already hated her for daring to speak to him?
“So…” Mike took a step closer and she could smell the faint scent of his cologne. She swiftly stepped back.
“So?”
Hurt flashed over his expression. “I guess I’ll see you at lunch then?”
She nodded. “Yes. Have a good class, Mike.”
Mike ran his fingers through his hair nervously, like he wanted to say something else. Then he grinned. “You too.”
Flashing him one more smile, Abigale walked past him. She clutched her binder closer to her chest as she caught another whiff of his cologne.
Jeez. What am I going to do about him?
***
Class had sent Abigale spiraling in a slow descent to madness with all of the homework that was assigned, so when the bell rung to signal the end of class, she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. It was lunchtime.
She walked to the cafeteria as slowly as she could. Abigale dreaded seeing Mike, not wanting to deal with Bethany’s protectiveness. Passing through the cafeteria doors, she made up her mind that she was only going to speak with Rachel and Jules. That way she’d be able to stay out of trouble.
Abigale and Julia had gotten closer over the past week, so close that they had begun to call each other by their nicknames. Abigale, who was only called Abby by Tiffany, was now being called that by Julia. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but she never told Julia that it wasn’t okay for her to. Instead, she decided to call her new friend Jules.
She spotted the group of four sitting in one of the booths at the far corner of the cafeteria. Rachel and Jules sat on one side, Bethany and Mike on the other. Mike had his arm around her but was more engaged with what was on his phone than on Beth
any. Abigale found it odd, considering he used to always pay complete attention to her. Nevertheless, she approached with a forced smile.
“Hey, Abby,” Jules said, beaming when she saw her come over. “How was class?”
Rachel and Julia slid over, and Abigale took a seat. “It was all right. How was yours?”
“It was pretty good, actually! We made these brochures that demonstrated our knowledge of aerodynamics.”
While Jules launched into a huge spiel about the project, Abigale noted that Mike had put away his phone. Instead of looking at Bethany, he was looking between her and Jules. She frowned when she saw the annoyed expression on Bethany’s face. Were they fighting? Was that why Mike hadn’t hung out with Bethany much for the past couple of days?
“Abby? Are you listening?”
Abigale snapped back into reality. “Yes! Sorry. What were you saying?”
Jules sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I was just—”
“She was geeking out. You didn’t miss much,” Mike interrupted. He winked at Jules before his eyes met Abigale’s. She looked down after a couple of seconds, trying to fight the blush threatening to show on her cheeks. Luckily, Bethany didn’t appear to notice; her eyes were locked onto something behind them.
Abigale followed Bethany’s gaze. She was looking over at another table, where a group of guys was speaking in soft voices. One of the guys turned, and Abigale froze.
Donny tilted his head up in recognition, flashing a sadistic smirk in her direction. Swallowing, Abigale looked back at her. Something flashed in Bethany’s eyes: guilt.
She watched as Bethany glanced at Mike, then down at the table, her shoulders slumping.
Something was going on with her and Mike, and Abigale had a feeling it had something to do with the light-haired boy sitting ten feet from the table.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Abigale’s eyelids drooped, darkness threatening to swallow her vision. It was one o’clock in the morning. She had stayed up to write an essay she’d forgotten to create for social studies. With it being due the next day, Abigale knew that she had to get it done.
