4. anna

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05:00 pm

I can’t fully grasp what I am about to do as I sit in front of Ms. Singh in our usual room.
My heart aches with guilt but I know that guilt should have no place in my mind right now because what I really need are answers.

I pull myself back to reality and my eyes move around the room fully assessing the situation. I’ve been in this room for the past six months but it is only now that I notice how Ms. Singh’s favorite color might be green since the entire room is painted with shades of it, including her couch and her notepad.

Her notepad. Which I have never seen her leave out of her sight for one second. How in the hell am I supposed to steal that away for even 5 minutes.

“So Annie.” Ms. Singh adjusts her glasses on her nose and clicks open her pen. “How are you doing today?”

“Um” I put pressure on my right leg to stop it from shaking because if anyone knows my anxiety give-aways, its going to be my therapist. “Good. Better.”

“Better huh?” she scribbles down something on her pad, “What makes you say better.”

Crap.

 I look down at my watch, “05:09” any minute now.

“I have just been sleeping…well.”

“Can you please elabo-"

The door to the room swings open with a rush of force and behind it appears Ms. Greene, her forehead covered with creases, “Emergency.” She said out of breathe, “Now.”

Please leave the notepad. Please.

The door crashes.

Fuck my life.

I frantically jump out of the sofa, my heart racing my thoughts. The plan failed which actually is not a surprise because it wasn’t that great to begin with but anyways, I need to think fast and I need to think now.
I rush towards Ms. Singh’s table, scavenging through all the diaries and notes kept on the table.
My knees now bent down while my hands pulled at the drawers wishing to the gods that one might budge.

Everything apart, I have to admit that Ms. Singh is thorough and definitely good at what she does.

I now scan the entire table for stationary, a scale, a paperclip, anything to budge open this drawers. My hands then move against my hair hoping to find a bobby pin there when voila!

My entire body is shaking now but I somehow manage to keep my hands steady. The pin fits inside the lock but that’s all it does. I remember back to all the mystery shows I binged and jam the pin further inwards, moving it in all possible directions.

Please open. PLEASE.

The drawer flies open revealing all the contents. I close my eyes with force, thanking whosoever listened.
I was about to dig through the stuff when I heard Ms. Singhs hushed footsteps approaching and my heart catches on fire again.

Note to self- Be better under pressure.

I scatter all the contents in the drawer and pull out my phone camera. The shutter goes off once, twice and my phone displays the entire drawer.

08:16 pm

“Damn Ans. Badass.” Addy exclaimed while sipping mouthful of soda.
My feet plop down heavily on my bed as my mind replays the entire evening while swiping through my gallery.

Addy crashes beside me and grabs my phone, “I’m really proud of you, seriously but.” She looked at me, “I think all of this is useless.”
“Give me my phone back.”

All of this cannot be useless. All of this cannot be for nothing. I scan through the photos yet again but this time something catches my eye, I sit upright and zoom into one of the green notebooks which had fallen open in the rush.

Bingo

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Bingo.

11:25 am

“Are you sure about this?” Addy asked as we marched down the hall towards the school directories.

“No.” I looked at her, my eyes full of dread. “But this is the only lead we have.”

“Good morning Ms. Evans.”

“Hi honey. What can I do for you two today?” She replied enthusiastically.
Ms. Evans was young to be a receptionist, maybe in her mid-20s. She joined the school administration two years back so she would have been even younger. I always felt something was off when she chose this job but she seemed so nice, I let it slide.

Now that I know something is definitely weird here, I am going to keep my eye on her.

Moving forward I reply, “Can we have a look at the school registry of year 11 batch, we are looking for someone.”

“Sorry guys but I can only show you the names and schedules, no personal information though.”

“That will be great.” Addy chimed in.

Ms. Evans disappeared into a room and after 5 minutes, reappeared with a thick folder in her hands.

“Thank you so much.”

Addy picked up the folder and we moved away to one of the tables, out of Ms. Evans earshot. I quickly moved past the Js and the Ks and stopped at L. My finger moved down the list, each name being traced by my fingers until I reached the Lucas’. Three Lucas As, I pulled out my phone and clicked their schedules.

Addy looked at me amusingly, “Let’s do some stalking.”

02:37 pm

The name Lucas feels so familiar, like something I've been hearing every day. None of these Lucas’ have the same class as mine so I'm not surprised when none of them turn out to be the required Lucas A.
Addy did have a point, he might go to another school but these therapists are appointed by individual schools.

There definitely can be an error of margin, maybe I mistook a P for an A, maybe it got smudged. I’ll look into it tomorrow.

I let my body relax against the hard seat of the bus. These last few days have been draining the hell out of me and even though I can not sleep, I sure as hell want to sleep right. I pull out my phone and open Instagram, mindlessly scrolling past reels, letting myself be a normal teenager for a few seconds when something catches my attention.

I hear a faint Lucas, then it gets louder. The bus comes to a halt and it strikes me, finally. I lunge for my bag and leap for the closing door of the bus.

“Careful Annie.” Mr. Stuart’s voice gets flushed down as the door closes behind me.

My feet gain momentum and run towards the figure that disappears across one of the corners, “Lucas A!”

The figure stops and turns, “What?"

~

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