Pulse

Chapter 28

Lucie

I worked a part-time job as a cashier at a general store. The job wasn't fantastic, considering it was a lot of standing around and pushing buttons and faking a smile, but I made enough money off it and I got free things sometimes. The monotony of it, even, was a good thing today. I could focus on Hello, how are you doing today and the beep of the scanner rather than the fact that my dreams weren't dreams anymore.

I finished ringing up an old woman who was buying about five containers of bleach (you learn not to ask about these things) and reached up, clicking my register's light off. I sighed and removed my blue vest, stuffing it in the purse I retrieved from my storage locker. Then I headed for the electronics section.

I was off for now, but my errands weren't complete.

I waltzed through the rows of CDs and DVDs, past the phone accessories and tablet cases. The flat screens lining the back wall showed a potter's muddy fingers shaping a vase, then went black, and started the video over again. There was an automated crash from somewhere in the corner—a kid likely testing video games.

Just as I reached the section I'd been aiming for, my cell phone buzzed. I picked it up. "Jiya? Yeah, hi."

"Hey. Are you doing okay?"

I hesitated, then sandwiched the phone between my shoulder and my ear, reaching to pick up a Straight Talk Wireless box, the overhead lights making its lime green color even more blaring than it already was. "Yeah. It's been a month since the accident happened. I'm fine."

"What are you doing right now?"

I turned the box over to read the back of it. "I'm at the store. I'm considering purchasing a cheap cell phone. Perhaps a flip phone."

"I didn't think they sold those anymore," muttered Jiya, then paused and added, "Wait, why do you need a cell phone?"

"It's not for me," I said with a sigh, taking the box over to the guy at the counter and slamming it down. He looked at me, alarmed, and I wagged a finger at him to tell him to give me a second. "It's for a friend. Trust me, this friend needs it. Do you need something, Jiya? Can I call you back?"

"Uh," she said. "No. Not really."

Something in her voice had changed. The guy at the counter took the box and started punching numbers into his cash register. I freed my wallet of my purse and shifted the phone to my other ear, eyebrows furrowing. "Is everything okay?"

"No," Jiya said. "The school's chaotic right now."

"Why?"

"Lucie," Jiya answered, taking her time, "Mr. Davies was murdered."

On normal days, I took only morning classes and left after lunch, so returning back to the school in the afternoon was a rarity for me. Today, however, was going to have to be one of those occasions; I couldn't deny the gnawing feeling in my stomach that there was something more to this.

When Jiya said the school was chaotic, she hadn't been lying.

All sorts of cars were parked down the road, blocking it off: students' cars, news trucks, police SUVs, ambulances...the list went on. Caution tape began at the school's courtyard and stretched around its perimeter, a continuous yellow warning. Various news reporters lined the street, all looking at different cameras, some speaking in Spanish. Cameras flashed; the crowd surged against policemen, trying to get a better look.

It was like nothing I'd ever seen before.

I found Jiya standing beside the sycamore tree we sometimes studied under. She widened her eyes when she saw me, mopping her brow. "Took you long enough," she scolded. The tree's limbs were slender shadows across her face. "Did you seriously buy a cell phone?" she asked me, pointing at the plastic bag in my hand.