Feathermore Page 5

I barely slept that night. To say I was exhausted would be an understatement, yet sleep eluded me anyway. I kept thinking about that thing by the diner, and as much as I tried to pretend I might have been seeing more than was there, I couldn’t let it go. I kept waking from nightmares of being chased by that thing, and in the dream it was actually speaking—or, rather, barking. Every time the creature had come too close I got rescued by the same really hot stranger. I couldn’t get his deep-green eyes off my mind. Why was he always in my dreams? What did it mean? I woke up so many times; I finally decided just to get up. It was 5:50.

  Now that I was out of bed and had turned on the light that sat on top of my nightstand, the nightmares and memories were beginning to seem a little ridiculous. I decided not to think about them. The thought of going to school bolstered me with renewed excitement. I would be seeing Avan again. During the night, I had also tried not to think of him. And here is where the green-eyed stranger came in.

  Stop it! He isn’t real!

  I was being careless with these feelings about Avan. I had just met the guy and I was already obsessing over him, which was so not me. What if his pleasantries toward me were just the same old new-kid’s-first-day-making-friends syndrome? It was definitely a possibility.

  I went through my entire closet looking for the perfect outfit before finally resigning myself to the reality that there was no such thing. So I opted to wear my favorite dark blue jeans and my loose-fitting black Metallica tee, the one with the angel wings on a skull.

  In freshman year, it had been decided by popular consensus that I was the emo girl. I think part of that was Amy’s doing, expecting people to alienate me just for being in that category. Some people could be very closed-minded—they figured that because I had jet black hair, was pale to a fault, and loved to dress in black, I was a goth. I didn’t mind playing along, though. I always had a little bit of darkness skulking in me. Not that I went out of my way to look this way—I just had those features. Almost every other girl in school went out of her way to get one of those layered haircuts and two-tone dye jobs—definitely not something I would do.

  I took my time with my morning routine and made my way downstairs before Mom was awake. I started her coffee and got something to eat before Claire came to pick me up. Dad was an early riser and usually out of the house by five thirty, ready to start his workday. The only quality time I shared with him was in the evenings, especially when we sneaked in a late-night horror movie. I never got to spend enough time with him because of his long hours at the shop, but I was definitely a daddy’s girl.

  I was busy making eggs when I heard Mom walk down the stairs and stall at the entrance to the kitchen.

  “Am I dying and no one’s had the guts to tell me?” She was that shocked seeing me awake and industrious this early.

  “What? Oh, no.” I started laughing. “I was up early, so I figured I’d do something productive. Of course, if you don’t want it, I can . . .” I held the plate precariously over the garbage can.

  “No! This is great,” she said as she sat down. “I could certainly get used to a little bit of being served.” I poured a cup of coffee and brought it over to her, set it next to her plate, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  Mom smiled but said in mock concern, “You are seriously worrying me, Jade. Have the body snatchers come?”

  “Right, Mom.” I rolled my eyes as I walked away. “You’re making it seem like I’m a horrible child, or something. I’m just . . .” I waited for the words to manifest in my head, but only one came. “Happy.”

  Claire did her usual three beeps out front. Any other day, that would have been my wake-up call. In five minutes, she would be knocking on the door and heading upstairs to make me move faster. After I gave Mom another kiss I headed out the door, sneaking my way unseen to the car.

  “So this is what you do while you wait for me to get ready, huh?” I said as I popped up next to the half-open passenger window.

  Claire nearly put out her eye with the eye-liner.

  “Jeez, Jade, you almost made me wet my pants!” she gasped. She looked me up and down when I got in.

  “Yes, I know, I’m up and out. Can’t a girl be excited to go to school?” I had caught the question mark in her face.

  “Um, as far as I’m concerned, no, you can’t,” she said, smiling while backing out of the driveway. We rounded the end of my cul-de-sac street, and I rolled my window down. I could feel the wind on my face again, hopefully taming down the blush I could feel spreading over my face as I thought about him.

  We made it to school early for the first time ever. That meant we were in uncharted territory, so we sat in the cafeteria, making idle talk, all the while eyeing the clock on the wall, waiting for the bell to ring. I could barely contain the smile threatening to take over my face as we approached our classroom.

  I tried to keep my cool, walking in and casually scanning the room, leaving the best for last. There he was, making all my memories of him seem a little obsolete. He was talking to Nick, who babbled on and on with all the pent-up conversation that no one had cared enough to hear out of him since he got here. Poor guy must not be used to any attention. While Avan had his back turned to me I decided to take him in slowly: the tousled black hair, the tanned skin, his easy way of moving. I didn’t need to see those deep-blue eyes—I could feel them. I had never seen such electricity in anyone’s eyes before. They could even put Claire’s to shame.

  Just as I approached, Avan turned, and the lights emphasized his full lips. I caught myself daydreaming about what kissing them would feel like, and felt my whole face blush. I quickly decided to distract those thoughts by looking out the window. I hadn’t noticed someone else’s book bag on the floor, and I tripped over it, losing my balance. Claire, who was loyally behind me, steadied me before I could make an even bigger fool of myself. Snickers erupted here and there. I looked down at the floor and sat down, embarrassed.

  “Hey, there.” His crooked smile revealed a perfect set of pearly whites. Perfection! “That was quite an entrance.”

  Great—I will never see the end of this. I smiled awkwardly, hoping my little performance would be soon forgotten.

  This morning, with his greeting still echoing in my mind, I realized I wanted to know everything that made him, him. He complimented me on the red strands I had just put in my hair, and, in a more relaxed and natural manner than yesterday, we got to talking. The topics ranged from music (thanks to my choice of T-shirts) to movies and books. It felt really good to find someone, besides my best friends, with whom I had so much in common. I kept a safe distance from him, afraid the touch of our skin would rocket me into space again.

  Mr. Morris walked in late again and got on with his lecture on the origin of the ancient Etruscans. As much as I tried to concentrate, I found myself glancing sideways at Avan. Every time I stole a look, he was studying me in return. Butterflies did aerobatics in my stomach. Could he really be interested in me? I didn’t see how. Maybe Amy had told him about our little encounter last night, and now he thought I was a freak, too. Despite all these warring thoughts, I did manage to get some of Mr. Morris’s lecture.

  I have to confess that I was ecstatic having him sit so close. For one thing, it would make getting to know him easier. It may seem silly, but hey, I had seen adults get excited over a lot less. I was on a cloud.

  The lesson droned on, and I was losing focus. I thought it was from all the sleep I wasn’t getting, but I also began feeling that horrible sensation that heralded the unwelcome voice. I was really hoping not to have an episode in class. Something was trying to erupt in my mind. I resisted, but I sensed an unspoken warning trying to rise up again. Soon after, my back began tingling in response and my heart rate quickened.

  Maybe I was just coming down with something. I rubbed my neck and rested my head on my other hand.

  I got the sense that Nate and Claire were focusing on me again. But they weren’t—in fact, it struck me how quiet Claire was b
eing. Given the way she acted yesterday when I was about to talk to Avan, I was surprised she hadn’t nudged a hole in my side by now. I tapped on her shoulder and silently ribbed her about being so quiet. History and theology were two of her fortes, and she listened to those lessons with near devotion. But she didn’t look much in the mood for jokes. She had both arms rested on the desk, one hand cupping the other. Her gray eyes were distant, staring into space.

  “Are you all right?” I whispered. It wasn’t every day that her bubbly, loud personality got this subdued. She shook out of her gaze and looked at me. The corner of her mouth lifted ever so slightly. “You know, that’s a lame excuse for a smile,” I added, looking over at Nate. Were they fighting? No, not likely. I had known them for over three years and had yet to see them fight. Sure, they had disagreements, but sometimes it seemed to be more of a show. His eyes were glued to the chalkboard, and he systematically looked down as he wrote notes. The way he held on to that pen seemed painful.

  I had begun doodling on my notebook when warm fingers tapped my arm. The spot where his fingers touched tingled with his energy, but at least I saw no blinding flash of light this time. Before I looked up at him, I noticed a folded paper beside my arm. As I unfolded the note, I saw a simple sentence that made my insides jump with excitement: “Would you have lunch with me?”

  Claire’s chair smashed into my desk with full force, and she walked toward the front of the class.

  “Excuse me, Miss Wagner, where are you going?” Mr. Morris said, moving to stand in her way.

  She didn’t say anything, just stared at him. I saw his eyes widen just for an instant, and he moved aside, letting Claire walk past.

  Weird.

  “Nate?” I hissed, my eyes glued to the glass door Claire had just walked out. “What the hell was that? Is everything okay?” I turned back to him just in time to see him nod. His eyes were glued to the door. Just then the bell rang. I stayed in my seat a moment longer. . I looked at the paper in my hand and wrote on it, then passed it back to Avan.

  Yes.

  Rain Check?

  I got up and began gathering my things; just then Claire came strolling back in. Her features were hard and her body tense as she sat back down in front of me.

  “What was that all about?” I asked, raising my voice so she could hear me amid the general chatter all around us. I waited for an answer, but none came. Instead, as I stared intently at her I heard her voice in my head. I was sure because her lips never moved. “They’re here. The place is infested.”

  “Wh-what did you just say?” I asked her.

  She turned to face me, a weak smile on her face. “I didn’t say a word, hon. Hearing things now?”

  Oh, if you only knew. “I heard you say something about the place being infested. What does that mean?” I looked at both her and Nate. “What is going on?”

  They reacted in unison. Their eyes widened, and although they tried to hide it, the shock on their faces was unmistakable.

  After fourth period, Claire, Nate, and I walked to the cafeteria, barely talking while they dragged me with them at a steady pace. Claire held on to my arm as if she was afraid it might fall off. What was with all this creepiness? Something up ahead made me look twice. I strained my eyes, trying to determine what I was looking at. Feeling the same sudden wash of horror and dread I had felt on the street last night, I saw a sort of dark shadow at the end of the hall.

  It was hard to tell whether there really was anything there, because it sort of glided in and out of view. There were a lot of people around, and it seemed to mix in with the crowd. If it actually was something, it seemed to be hiding behind other students. No one seemed to notice it, though. I raised my hand to point at the thing. I was about to ask Nate if he saw it, too, when he pulled me into a classroom.

  There was no time to react. The next thing I knew, I was in a fourth-grade classroom.

  “What was that?” I said as I tried to move past Nate and take another peek out into the hall.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Nate. Why the hell did you pull me in here? And what was that outside?

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jade.” He looked behind him and then moved toward the door. Claire opened it and walked in, all chirpy.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go eat!”

  Nate shoved his hands into his hip pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. “Umm, I’ll see you girls later,” he said as he slid her hand into his and gave her one of their silent looks. “I have to go do some stuff off school grounds, but I’ll be here when you get out, okay?” He kissed the back of her hand and disappeared amid the throng of students in the hall.

  “What was that all about?” I asked as Claire pulled me forward and we made a short stop at my locker. I couldn’t help but feel that something highly unusual was going on, and for the first time, I had the suspicion that my best friends knew something they didn’t trust me to hear. They seemed to be trying to hide something big under a too-small blanket.

  I sat at the lunch table waiting for Claire to get out of the dreadful cafeteria line. As usual, I had brought my own lunch. I wasn’t really hungry anyway, so to pass the time—and, once again, to keep my mind off the strange things I had been seeing—I pulled out my hardcover copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. The cafeteria line seemed to be barely moving today, and I was having trouble getting into the book. The clamor and clatter of the cafeteria seemed louder than usual, and that wasn’t helping my concentration any.

  Someone sat down across from me. I stiffened, somehow knowing it was him, and put the book down. As usual, my intuition was right. There, across the table from me, sat Avan, chin propped up on his elbows, smiling. He looked around, then put his backpack on the floor beside him.

  “You know,” I said, “sitting at this table is extremely bad for your rising reputation.”

  “Good thing no one’s watching, then.” He looked around and then stared at me.

  Claire set her tray down next to me and sat down. “Seriously dude, sitting here is a death wish,” she said. “You’re buddies with Amy. I would suggest you make her happy and sit with her—she’s already giving us the evil eye, so . . .” She nodded toward Amy’s table.

  Avan turned around, trying to be inconspicuous, but Amy caught his eye and waved desperately at him, making sad faces as she patted the wooden bench next to her.

  “Seems like she misses you,” Claire said.

  I kicked her under the table, and she just looked at me. I couldn’t believe how rude she was being. I turned my attention back to Avan.

  “That’s okay,” he said to Claire. “Jade already warned me. I’m really not the kind of person you seem to think I am, but if you’d rather I sat someplace else, it’s okay.” He raised an eyebrow as he looked into my eyes, and then stood up and walked away without saying another word.

  I felt terrible. He was being nothing but sweet, and Claire had to run him off. I wanted to talk to him, and I wanted him to sit at our table. Why did she have to act this way? The table he chose was not Amy’s—that made me happy inside, I have to admit. He sat with Nick Frost, who eagerly welcomed his presence.

  Amy gave us an exasperated look and walked toward Avan. She put on her best smile and slid her arm around his shoulder. I imagined she would try to have him sit at her table. But when he apparently turned her down, Amy stomped over to our table. If this were a cartoon, there would have been smoke coming out of her ears.

  As she approached I felt myself tense up, ready for her to lash out at us. I was tired of this hierarchy that, I supposed, existed in every school, and I couldn’t wait until I was away from Amy, until I could be myself without looking over my shoulder to see who was watching.

  Behind Amy, Avan turned his head to the side and briefly looked at me. He seemed hurt, and it made me feel awful. I felt a familiar faint tingling in my back, which progressed slowly into the same burning ache
as earlier. She put her hands on our table, right where Avan had sat. “Do not even think you’re going to be hanging out with him,” she snarled. “He’s too good for you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Don’t waste your time, okay? He’s free to hang out with whomever he chooses. And I didn’t ask him to sit with me, all right, Amy?”

  I said all this without even deigning to look up at her, then opened up my book and pretended to resume my reading. But I couldn’t concentrate. I wanted to slap her for being so stupid. How dare she tell me who I could or couldn’t hang out with?

  Then, to my complete astonishment, she reached over the table and, snatching the book right out of my hand, slammed it down on the table. Every head around us turned to see what was going on.

  “Listen here,” she said in a tone dripping with condescension, “you freaks are three of a kind, so don’t go messing with the natural order of life. People like him”—she pointed with her thumb back to where Avan was sitting—“do not belong with you.”

  She punctuated the last word with a glare straight into my eyes, making sure her point was getting across. She didn’t faze me, though. I gave her my best bored-to-death look and hoped she would leave.

  “Then again, Nathaniel looks like he could be normal. I’ll never understand what he’s doing here with you two.”

  By then, Claire had had it. She stood up, and her face was transformed. This was not the sweet, bubbly Claire anymore. She was giving Amy a real rattlesnake stare.

  I could see in Amy’s eyes that the unspoken threat had come through, loud and clear. She retreated quickly to her table and started murmuring to the cheerleaders, who in turn began casting dark looks at us. I spent the rest of the day avoiding the silent vitriol coming from Amy’s clan. It wasn’t as if I had actually done anything, either. It really was amazing how much that girl could influence people and poison their minds against someone else.

  As the school day ended, I walked to Claire’s car. She was still talking to Mr. Bennar, our biology teacher, about an assignment that was due in a couple of weeks. Nate was out of sight but probably not far away. I leaned on Claire’s car and started picking at my nail polish. I was seriously overdue for a manicure. I heard someone walking my way and ignored it until a tall shadow slid into view and stopped in front of me.

  “Is it bad for my reputation to talk to you now?”

  What was it about him that made me so nervous? Without moving my eyes from my nails, I teased, “It’s certainly going to make a dent in it. I already had an earful from your girlfriend. But hey, it’s your own popularity you’re digging a grave for, you know?” I slowly traced my way to his eyes.

  “Gee, which of my many girlfriends was that? I just can’t keep count,” he joked back. We were quiet for a moment, and then he took another step closer. “I wanted to apologize about earlier. I don’t know her too well, but she seems to have it in for you.” His thumbs hung casually to the straps of his backpack.

  I laughed under my breath. Boy, was he right! “I guess so. I’m sorry about Claire, too—I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

  My anxiety at this point melted away. Avan’s voice made me feel different, as if it spoke to a part of me that I had never known was there. Standing there with his naturally messy hair, he was astoundingly beautiful. He bent down so his face was right in front of mine. I could feel the blood in my veins move faster as my heart thumped harder.

  “I’ve been duly warned about my so called popularity. Now, since we didn’t get to have lunch today, would you consider it tomorrow?”

  I stared into his face, trying to assess the situation. Why was he so intent on hanging out with me? Was this some evil plan Amy was hatching, with him just doing as she said? I didn’t know, and I didn’t much care, either.

  “Sure, that’s fine,” I relented, turning my palms up in surrender.

  “Perfect. It’s a date,” he said, while making his way past me to his car, which I couldn’t see from where I was standing.

  A date? I thought. Was he really considering it a date? What did that even mean?