Betwixt Page 4
I wish I could remember. My head pulses and I rub my temples.
Lauren gives Trent a sympathetic look. "Sorry if she ruined your night." She squeezes his arm.
He shoots her a glum smile, playing for the sympathy card like a pro.
I roll my eyes.
"Excuse me? Ruined his night? He's not the one lying lost in the forest."
I want to scream. This is so frustrating. How is it possible that Trent dropped me home yet I've ended up in the middle of nowhere? What happened between his car and my house?
"Well, us big seniors have more important things to think about right now." He gives the girls a wink and grins at Matt's retaliatory insult before sauntering off to his next class. I want to follow him and ask for more details, but since he can't hear me staying with this group will probably work to my advantage. Maybe some of their gossipy natter will lead to the truth.
Matt pulls open the door for everyone and they file inside. I jump in before it closes on my butt.
"Penny. Amber." I walk next to my friends. "Why aren't you guys worried? What if Trent's lying? How did I end up in the forest? Please, someone, hear me."
"What if she's not shopping?" Penny drops her books on the big library table. At least she looks a little worried.
Thank you. Finally.
"Maybe she's run away. She's been threatening to do it for months." Amber pulls out a chair. "Trent did say she was acting weird last night. Maybe when he dropped her off she collected her stuff and left?"
"What's the bet some studly picked her up and they're now getting married in Vegas."
Everyone laughs at Matt's joke.
"Maybe some trucker kidnapped her and she's locked in the back with a trailer load of livestock." Amber giggles.
"Why would that be funny?" My voice punches out in harsh syllables.
"Maybe she's on a bus to New York. Hashtag, Nicole makes a break for it." Penny smiles.
"Penny, not you too. I haven't run away." I throw my bag on the table. "You guys!"
"Maybe she's dead." The table goes silent at Lauren's casual statement. They all look at her then at each other... then all start cracking up.
"Why are you guys laughing? I'm not dead. I'M NOT DEAD." I scream.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a head pop up from a book and look around the room as if he just heard something.
"I'm not dead." I yell across the room.
He flinches, lowers his book and looks straight at me.
I wince.
Dale Finnigan.
Un-freaking-believable.
CHAPTER SIX
Of all the people.
I lick my lips and take a step towards his table. He's still scanning this section of the library, looking jittery.
I wave my arms and jump up and down. Dale frowns then looks back down at his book. Okay, so maybe he can't see me.
"I'm not dead." I call across the room again.
His eyebrows pucker and he's obviously making a concerted effort to keep reading.
Grabbing my bag, I weave around the tables and squat down next to him. I wave my hand in front of his face, but he doesn't move. His eyes keep scanning the pages of text as if nothing is trying to block them.
Holding my breath, I slowly stand and lean down so my lips are right next to his ear.
"Can you hear me?" I whisper.
The book drops onto the table with a loud bang. Dale looks as though he's about to go into cardiac arrest. Everyone in the library looks his way. The librarian frowns and shushes him, while my table of friends all start to snicker.
I want to crumple to the floor with relief. Who cares if it's Dale? Someone can hear me.
"Dale, I-" Tears make my voice shake.
He stands up and with shaking hands gathers up his things.
"Dale?"
He doesn't even bother to pack his stuff away properly, just shoves it in his bag as he makes a beeline for the exit.
I follow him and manage to squeeze through the door before it closes on me.
"Where are you going?" I have to run to keep up with him.
He keeps walking, gripping the shoulder strap of his bag as if it's a lifeline.
"Dale, please stop. I can't keep up with you."
We speed down the corridor and turn another corner. Why won't he listen to me? I know he can hear me. Does he really hate me that much?
His pace is getting faster and I finally have to stop. Leaning over, I let out a little scream and stamp my foot.
"Damn it, Dale. STOP!"
His pace slows. I draw in a couple of deep breaths and keep walking towards him.
"Look, if this is about the Scarface comment, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say it and I felt really bad afterwards."
I can see his shoulders heaving as he goes to turn the next corner.
I raise my voice even higher as I run to catch up to him.
"I know I should have said it months ago, but it's not like you've given me any chances."
He shakes his head. I know what he's thinking, even if I had had the chance I probably wouldn't have. I hate that he's right.
Desperation floods my system as he strides around the next corner, I stop in my tracks and am on the verge of tears. Slumping to the floor, I wrap my arms around myself.
"Define irony," I mutter. "Someone can actually hear me, but they don't want to listen."
I shake my head and sniff. Liquid burns my eyes and I know if I shut my lids, big fat tears will soon be rolling down my cheeks.
This isn't fair.
"Nicole?"
I glance up at Dale's whisper. His face is pale and he looks pretty edgy, but he is walking down the corridor... back towards me.
Rising from the floor, I brush off my jeans and clear my throat.
His eyes dart my way and he starts speaking to the locker just right of me.
"It's not about the comment," he looks over his shoulder before stopping a few feet from me, still facing the lockers. "It's about the-"
"I'm standing to your left."
He turns his head, obviously annoyed at the interruption, but at least he's facing me now... pretty much. Two slow breaths rush in and out of his nose then he swallows. "This isn't real."
"It is. I swear I'm not messing with you. I don't know why you can hear me, but you seem to be the only person who can. Please, I need-"
He suddenly laughs, not a happy sounding laugh, but one of those verging on hysteria ones.
"I'm talking to a ghost, right? You're a ghost or something?"
"I'm not dead."
"I heard. What are you? Why can I hear you?" He points to his head with a shaky finger.
"I don't know."
He shakes his head and turns to leave.
"Please, Dale, I'm not dead, but I will be if someone doesn't help me."
My loud outburst is followed by a stony silence. He hitches his bag higher onto his shoulder and lifts his chin. I can sense him gearing up to stride away again, but then his shoulders slump. He lets out a heavy sigh.
I wait in agitated silence, my boot tapping out a nervous staccato on the corridor floor... not that anyone can hear it.
Moving in painfully slow motion, Dale spins back around to face me. I can't read his expression; there is a depth to his eyes that's unfathomable. His whole demeanor has changed, his laughter has scuttled away and I feel like I'm staring at a seventeen year old... man.
Dropping his bag to the floor, Dale whispers, "What's happened to you?"
"I'm not sure. I mean, my mind is here, but my body..." my voice starts to quiver, "I'm lost in the forest somewhere and I don't know how I got there. I can't remember anything."
"What's the last thing you do remember?"
"Amber was driving me to study group... at Matt's house."
Okay, that was new. Images of Matt's huge log cabin home flutter through my brain. Loud music floated down to the lake where we were all standing. Drue and Nixon were throwing stones into t
he water; Trent had his arm around my shoulders and was drinking a Corona. Matt was standing way too close to Penny while she giggled at Lauren's joke... and Amber was sitting on a log, making out with... Charlie Watson! Ewww! The greasy haired skinny guy from her Biology class? I thought she hated him. The memory evaporates in my brain. I try to search for more intel, but it's gone.
Dale snorts in disgust.
"Study group? Don't you mean the party?"
I nod, still a little dazed from images of Amber and Charlie playing tongue twister.
"Nicole? Am I right?"
I'm about to snap at him for making me answer twice, when I remember he can't see me. I clear my throat.
"Yeah, the party... whatever you want to call it."
He looks serious as he nods and tucks a curl behind his ear. "Okay, so you left Matt's house and..."
"I don't remember leaving Matt's house." I squeeze my eyes shut. "My head hurts... and I can't remember."
Dale's features flash with concern.
"You must have a head injury."
"I do. I hit my head and my arm is killing me and I think I've busted up my leg."
"How do you know that? Can you feel it?"
"No, I went back to my body. That's how I know I'm not dead. I woke up and I'm down this steep slope, surrounded by trees and everything hurts. When I tried to move I blacked out again. I don't know what to do. I... I'm... What do I..."
My voice shakes as swift tears rise.
"Shhhh," Dale whispers gently. "It's okay. I-"
He holds his breath, hesitating.
I can't take my eyes off him as his face washes with varying emotions. The reluctance is hard to miss, but his head is bobbing. The movement is minute, but the hope within me clings to it. Finally he swallows and the nod becomes pronounced.
"I'll help you. I will." He nods again. "Just walk with me to my next class and tell me everything you know, okay?"
His voice is tender and sweet as if he's talking to a five year old. For some weird reason, it's the most comforting thing I've heard all day.
I wipe at my tears as the bell trills. With a few little sniffs, I shuffle up next to him and we walk to class in silence.
Once he's seated, he pulls out a blank piece of paper and writes.
Tell me everything you can see.
"You mean when I'm in my body?"
He nods.
I start talking, describing the embankment in as much detail as I can. He nods, trying to make it look as though he's just paying attention to the teacher. Every time he wants to clarify something, he stops me with a written question.
Are you bleeding?
"No, well yes, a little blood on my head. I don't think it's bad though."
He does that smirk of his.
What are you wearing?
"Really? You want to picture me right now?"
He shoots me a dark look. His direction's pretty good and I get the full force of his glare. I can't help smiling a little. He's actually quite cute when he frowns.
I clear my throat. "I'm in jeans, knee high boots and a... a sleeveless leather shirt."
In the fall? Aren't you cold?
"I guess so. I don't remember thinking that when I woke up."
Do you have a jacket? What do you have with you?
"I'm not sure... wait a sec!" I grab my bag. "I must have my bag with me."
What's in it? Your phone?
I scramble through it, pulling out lipsticks, a makeup kit, nail polish, my wallet, my Dad's American Express. I frown. Shoving it back in, I rummage around each corner of the bag, but come up empty. I sigh.
"No phone."
A jacket?
I touch the jacket I had taken out to search through my bag.
"Yes."
Next time you go back, cover yourself. Make sure you stay warm... and try and get a better idea of your injuries. The more I know, the more I can help you.
"Okay." Hope spurts through me as I read his words. Of all the people in the world who can hear me. I shake my head. Dale Finnigan.
Why do I feel so incredibly grateful?
I stick close to Dale as we leave his Advanced English class. He is walking fast again and I have to jump around people to keep up with him.
"Why do you always walk so fast?"
"I need to talk to your friends before next period and I don't want to be late."
"My friends?"
"Yeah, didn't you say you went to study group with Amber?"
"Yeah, but I didn't leave with her."
"Well, maybe she knows who you did leave with."
For some reason, I don't want to tell him I left with Trent. I bite my lips together as I weave through the crowd. He glances at his watch again and I can sense his urgency and reluctance to be late.
Eventually I let out a sigh.
"I left with Trent."
Dale screeches to a halt and I nearly bang into him.
"What?" he mumbles out the side of his mouth.
"I don't remember, but according to Amber I rejected a ride with her and chose to leave with Trent."
His face is pretty dark as he turns in the direction of my voice. He opens his mouth to speak, but waits until a group of students pass before asking, "Did he take you home?"
"He said he did."
"Do you believe him?"
"No." I don't hesitate. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I caught him cheating on me this morning. Maybe it's because it's the truth. Either way, I think it's safe to say that our relationship is over, so thinking of him as a liar, doesn't seem so bad.
Dale's dark eyes take on a stormy quality and his skin pales making his scar scream red.
"Let's go." His quiet words command compliance and I chase after him as he descends the stairs towards the changing rooms.
Dale swings the door wide and leaves it open longer than necessary.
"Thanks."
He gives me a little grin as he heads towards his locker.
"Can you go through doors?" he whispers while spinning the dial on his lock.
"I haven't tried yet... well, not on purpose anyway. My fingers pass through everything I touch, so technically doors are no different."
"What's stopping you?"
"Ahhh... how about ick factor - ten billion."
He grins.
"You know when you think about it..." He opens his locker. "It's kinda cool. You're like Invisible Woman from Fantastic Four."
I snort out a laugh. "Are you kidding me?"
"Think of the power you have." He looks at me deadpan. "You could sneak into anywhere and no one would know." He wiggles his eyebrows.
I can't help laughing. "What's the point of sneaking in somewhere when I can't actually do anything in there."
"True, but-" His voice cuts off as a few guys round the corner and start opening their own lockers.
I'm suddenly super conscious that I'm in the boys' locker room. The guy next to me unzips his jeans and takes them off. I turn away and find myself staring at a half naked Dale.
Wow. He's like totally cut. That's surprising. I stare at him with wide eyes as he turns to find his shirt. How had I never noticed this about him before. His baggy T-shirts were hiding some major candy.
I bite my lip as I register what I just thought. Dale? Eye candy? Am I out of my mind?
Unable to take my eyes off him, I watch him reach for his PE shirt and notice the neat scar running across his right shoulder. He must have had surgery. I reach out to touch it. I don't know what's possessing me, but I can't stop myself.
I run my finger along the wound then down his bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Dale jerks in surprise. The guy next to him frowns. "You okay, man?"
"Cramp," Dale mumbles, rubbing his shoulder.
The guy nods then turns away while Dale shoots me a dark look.
"Did you feel that?"
His eyes narrow further.
"I couldn't help it. You're really cut and I always though
t you were this weedy, skinny-"
"You don't have to keep talking."
"What?" A different guy turns to see what Dale said.
"Nothin'." Dale shoots him a closed mouth grin, which turns to a frown in my direction.
Various lockers slam shut as the guys around us disperse. I watch them saunter towards the sports field exit and see a familiar figure walking towards us.
"Trent's coming."
My mouth goes dry as he approaches. What's Dale going to say to him? Trent can be pretty mean. Fear for Dale swirls in my belly as I watch him approach. It's like dwarf verses giant as Dale stands behind him and clears his throat.
Trent turns around and peers down at my helper.
"What the hell do you want, Scarface?"
Dale stands as tall as his five foot... I don't know, eight inches... will allow him to.
"Did you take Nicole home last night?"
Trent rolls his eyes and turns back to his locker. "And why would that be your business?"
"I'm just wondering where she is."
"Isn't everybody?" Trent rips off his shirt. I stare at his long torso, a torso I had run my hands over. I remember lying on his bed with him one afternoon in the summer, running my fingers over his tight muscles and memorising every curve. It had seemed so romantic at the time, now the thought just makes me sick. Another memory flashes through my head and I shudder.
"I just want to know where she is."
"How the hell should I know?"
"Because you’re her boyfriend!"
Trent's shoulders bunch with tension. I see a muscle twitch in his neck as he pulls a PE shirt over his head. "Look, she plays hooky all the time, okay. Her parents don't care. She's probably at home."
"Nicole hates being at home. If she plays hooky she goes to L.A. and she always takes one of her friends."
How did he know that?
"Look man, I don't know... maybe she's flying solo on this one. Maybe she hitched a ride to L.A. and is blowing off steam with her Dad's credit card. She'll be back tonight and loving all the attention tomorrow."
"I would never hitch. I'm not that stupid."
Dale ignores my yelled response and continues with his calm interrogation.
"What if she doesn't come back tomorrow?"
"Then maybe she's finally found the guts to run away."