"I can't believe you invited him to eat lunch with us." Amy had just gotten to her desk in science class, and Carley was actually on time.
"How could I not ask him?" Carley shot back, sliding into her seat. "Give me one good reason."
"I have a couple good reasons," Amy stated, as suspicious of Jesse now as she had been at Le Petit Café. "One, he followed me to the movies. Talk about stalkerish! Two, he followed me to the movies. Three, he followed me to the movies!"
Carley laughed, and Amy realized she was not at all worried about Jesse's behaviour. Carley leaned across the aisle and whispered, "He's new around here. Did it occur to you that he didn't know where the movie theatre was, spotted your uniform through the car window and knew that if he followed you, he'd end up at the movies?"
Amy raised an eyebrow. "That's highly unlikely. I doubt he could have seen the logo on my shirt when it was that dark outside." She had to raise her voice a little to be heard over the students who were milling into the classroom. "The guy followed me, Carley. We both saw his black Porsche in the parking lot. There was never a Porsche in our parking lot until now."
Carley leaned back in her seat as students began to cut down the aisle. "I won't rule out the possibility that he stalked you." She took a deep breath. "You're my best friend. Listen, I'll ask him straight up why he followed you. Okay?"
Amy bit her lip, watching as more students filed into the classroom. She did want to know why he'd followed her...She folded her arms across her chest. "Okay. But if he gives a dumb excuse, I'm keeping my guard up. Way up." Amy turned to face the front, aware that class would start soon.
Carley turned to face the front as well. "Just keep in mind," she repeated, eyes ahead, "that maybe—just maybe—he wanted to chill at the movies, knew you worked there, followed you there and wanted to be served by a friendly face. Also, that he had already registered to go to our school. Badda bing, badda boom." Carley let out the breath she had been holding. "That has got to be the longest sentence I've ever said."
"Ha." Amy raised her voice as the bell rang and Brad scurried in. "Try Charles Dickens. He was paid by the word, so you can bet he rambled on and on and—"
Carley held out her hands in a 'stop sign' gesture, a playful smile on her face. "You can stop right there. I get the picture—or novel. Get it?"
A sinister laugh beat off the walls. Amy's gaze flew to the front of the room, where Mr. Hicks was standing, head back and fists upwards, basking in victory. He pumped the air with one hand. "I have succeeded again! Look at them!" He pointed to the students who were whining outside the door. "Caught—like fish on a hook!"
"And the biggest prize is swimming freely." Carley smirked and leaned back confidently in her chair.
Mr. Hicks looked at Carley, at the door, and then back at Carley. "Impossible. You're supposed to be late!" He marched down the aisle, stopping in front of her. "You're supposed to be late," he repeated. "Do you know how many times you've been late this month?"
Carley peeled off part of her nail, obviously not caring. "Let me guess...six times?"
Mr. Hicks opened his mouth as if to say something, but seemed to change his mind. "Yes, actually." He adopted his usual stern look. "One more late, Miss Andrews, and I get to send you to the principal's office." He stalked back to his desk and leaned against it, patting the area behind him as if he were looking for something. "Class, you have the rest of the period to complete your labs." Not able to find whatever he was looking for, Mr. Hicks snatched a ruler off Marcus's desk in the front row. It flew to his armpit, as if magnified.
Marcus was horrified. "My ruler! Sir, I—"
"Do questions four to eight," Mr. Hicks continued. "They are due at the end of this period." As per usual, he walked through the doorway to the science office, leaving the class unsupervised.
Amy grabbed her things and took Eric's empty seat beside Brad. "Ready to party?"
Brad looked up. "Rock on!" He winked and Amy was flooded with giddiness, relieved to see Brad was back to his usual self. She pushed any thought of Jesse out of her mind, ready to concentrate on homework.
They pushed their desks together and Brad took out a sheet of paper. "Okay, number four..." His voice trailed as the late students pounded the door.
"Mr. Hicks forgot about them," Amy noted. "Even I forgot about them." Marcus opened the door and Amy took this as her cue to get back to science. "Question four. You were saying, Brad?"
Carley appeared beside Amy. "He's here!" she whispered.
Amy didn't even have to look up to know she meant Jesse. She looked up anyways. He was nodding his head and chatting with Marcus. The two looked like complete opposites: Marcus's hunched profile gave others the impression that he was flinching from an anticipated blow, while Jesse was standing up straight, his bag flat against his back and a friendly smile on his face. His hair shook as he nodded vigorously. Marcus stopped and looked at her. Jesse did the same and Amy suddenly felt very self-conscious.
"That's my cue," Carley murmured. She strolled up to Jesse while Amy strained to hear.
"So, Jesse, when did you move here?" she heard Carley ask.
Jesse scratched his head, glancing around the room, his gaze catching a moment when he laid eyes on Amy. Something is definitely up with him, she thought, unable to shake the feeling.
"Yesterday," Jesse asked, returning his attention to Carley.
Marcus seemed to get the hint and retreated to his desk.
"Did you get a chance to explore the city yet?" Carley asked.
"Well, I went to the movies."
"What did you see?"
"Friendly Foes—"
"Hey, that's the same movie Amy and Brad saw!" Carley looked over her shoulder but Amy sent her a warning look to keep talking. "Did you have trouble finding the theatre?"
"Um, actually—"
Amy physically jumped into the conversation, leaping out of her chair and rushing to Carley's side. Suddenly the idea of convicting Jesse of such a strange crime seemed ridiculous, but she had to ask. "Did you, er, did you—"
"She wants to know if you stalked her," Carley finished.
Amy blushed in embarrassment, but she admired Carley's boldness.
Jesse's eyes widened. "You saw? I—"
"Wait, what?" Amy's jaw dropped in disbelief. Somehow, even though she had been clinging to the stalking theory, she'd known it was far-fetched. Stalking was something you only read about the newspaper, or joked about. It didn't seem real.
Jesse looked flustered. "No, I—"
"Explain yourself, then." Carley put her arm around Amy's shoulder, the other hand on her hip.
Jesse looked at both of them. "I saw Amy's uniform through the car window, and knew that if I followed her, I'd end up at the movies. That's all."
"Oh." Amy was spellbound by the simplicity of it all.
"Okay, thanks, Jesse. I deem you stalker-free." Carley led Amy back to Brad, a satisfied look on her face. "See?"
Brad looked up as Amy approached Eric's desk.
"I'm still keeping my eyes and ears open," Amy warned, but the suspicion she had had earlier was already fading away. Jesse seemed way too nice.
Carley rolled her eyes and returned to Marcus, who was rolling his pen back and forth across the tabletop.
Brad gave Amy a long look. "Are you staying this time?"
Guilt kicked in. "Sorry about that. I'm here to stay, I promise."
Brad's face lit up and Amy couldn't help but smile. Her stomach did a somersault. He's probably just happy he's not working solo.
Brad leaned his head in his hand, his attention back to the paper in front of him. "This question makes zilch sense. Wanna give it a shot?"
"If you can't do it, what makes you think I can?"
Brad seemed to think the answer should be obvious. "Because you're smart."
Amy frowned, but secretly she relished the compliment because it came from Brad. "I'm not smart. I prepare. I study."
"You're smart," Brad repeated.
"No, I study."
"You're smart."
"I study."
"Fine." Brad gave her a mischievous grin. "But admit you're smart enough to know you should study."
Amy rolled her eyes and skimmed the question. She quickly explained the answer while Brad recorded it. He glanced at the next question.
"Yuck—calculations. Want to do this one?" He pushed the textbook closer to Amy.
"I can't do all of it," Amy protested.
"I did most of the lab."
"I tried to do an equal share!"
"While staring jealously at everyone else?" Brad muttered.
"It's not my fault you were gloomy!" Amy shot back, surprised at herself. Is this really the best way to engage in conversation with the guy you like? She shook her head. No, not really. Gently, she added, "I was afraid to ask you anything." She thought Brad might feed her a lame excuse, but he exhaled, suddenly looking very tired.
"I was in a bad mood," he admitted. "But I told you why. I thought that would make it okay, but I guess it doesn't."
Amy immediately regretted her outbursts. That was pretty gentlemanly of him. "Stress can do that to a person."
Brad's chair creaked as he adjusted his position. "You have no idea."
Amy stopped punching numbers into her calculator. "What could possibly make you so stressed? Now that I think about it, you haven't been your usual jokester self in days. Are you with the CIA or something?"
"You know," Brad broke in, "Jesse's been staring at you for the past two minutes."
"Wha-what?" Amy whipped her head around. Sure enough, Jesse was rocking on the balls of his feet, his hands in his pockets, his intense brown eyes resting on her. He pursed a smile.
"He's still staring." Brad sounded annoyed. "Maybe he likes you. Oh wait—now he's headed this way." Brad threw himself against the back of his chair, twiddling his thumbs and acting as if he hadn't just been talking about Jesse, who was now standing right in front of them.
"Hi, Brad." Jesse held out his hand, presumably for a handshake.
Brad shook, looking confused but pleasantly surprised. "Pull up a seat," he offered.
"Actually, I need to talk to the teacher, but thanks." Jesse looked down at Amy. "Could you come with me, Amy? Please? I know you're busy and all..."
The intense brown eyes almost threw her off. There's something weird about all this. "Sure," she said, wondering where this was going. "I'll be right back, Brad." She felt a little annoyed that something was taking her away from Brad and their assignment, not to mention she valued her promise, but she was eager to solve the mystery and get it out of the way.
Amy led Jesse to the door to the science office, noticing some of the girls in the class were trying to look busy while sneaking hopeful glances at him.
The door was slightly ajar, but Amy knocked anyway. When no one came, she pushed the door open and entered cautiously.
"He should be somewhere around here," she said, stating the obvious. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and jumped, losing her balance. She fell back against Jesse, who caught her and held her long enough for her to regain her balance. She leaned casually against the door, her cheeks red. Mr. Hicks had appeared out of nowhere. "Sir, you popped out of thin air."
Mr. Hicks' gray eyes twinkled. "Impossible. People can't appear out of nowhere. You just don't notice them."
"Actually—" Jesse caught himself, shutting his mouth quickly. "I'm a new student in your class," he announced. "Jesse."
Mr. Hicks nodded. "I heard about you. You were in a rush to register. Took the office by surprise a—."
A loud beeping sound interrupted the next word.
"Pardon?" Amy said softly, but the ringing was only getting louder. Did they change the fire alarm? Amy plugged her ears and breathed between gritted teeth. Her head was swimming.
"Amy! Are you alright?"
Jesse's concerned tone made it past the ringing in Amy's ears, and she had just enough time to register the level of worry.
"Amy? Amy!"
Amy closed her eyes and groaned. She slipped to her knees, something soft slowing her fall. Pictures flooded her vision and she was swallowed again by darkness.
~*~
Amy found herself in a dimly lit chamber. The first thing she noticed was the large bed, which encompassed most of the room. She immediately recognized the hunched woman from the last fainting spell. Helima was pulling back the silk sheets that covered the bed. The hazy figure that Amy knew as "the speaker" was pacing in front of a large fireplace that glowed warmly. Amy took a step forward, basking in the heat and the only source of light in the room.
"He isn't doing his job," the speaker complained. "He isn't even close!"
"These things take time," Helima pointed out. She filled a tub in the corner with steaming water. Amy longed for a hot bath herself. This room is freezing. Why can't I dream of places that are warm? "The light will be brought here...all in good time."
"Time!" The speaker halted mid step. "Time is something we don't have! I can control wealth, I can control people, I can control where I put people and how much money they possess, but time—I cannot control time!" The speaker threw its hands up in the air. "As each day passes, our worlds get closer and closer to a battle. We cannot let that happen."
Helima prepared a robe and washcloth by the bathtub. Amy found herself praying the speaker wouldn't undress in front of her. Then again, it's all hazy anyway...It's not like I'd see its body parts or anything. She realized something. Wait, "it" must be a woman, or Helima wouldn't the one preparing the bathtub. As soon as Amy realized this, the hazy figure lost some of its haziness. Amy couldn't make out much more than before, except for the folds of a long and elaborate green skirt.
Helima placed the dress on the neatly made bed. "He must reacquaint himself with the girl before he can get the Light. That's something we weren't counting on."
"I was," the speaker objected. Amy closed her eyes and when she opened them, the hazy figure was in the bathtub. "She was nine years old when she last saw him. She only crossed the border once. That always fazes the mind the first time, if not done properly."
Helima started scrubbing the speaker's back. "How much time does he have?"
"Not much. Don will intervene." The speaker's voice deepened. "Don will do whatever is in his power to get the Light before we can. He might hurt someone."
Helima stopped scrubbing. "Don? But you didn't mention the Light at the meeting!"
Amy assumed Helima was referring to the meeting she had witnessed in her last dream.
"Of course not," the speaker scoffed. "But I did give a clue, and Don is dangerous. If he's at all like his father, then he's willing to do whatever it takes...even if it means killing. Who knows what he might to do the students at Adam High?" The speaker rose. Amy was glad she couldn't see anything; she could only hear the sound of the water sloshing as the speaker pushed out of the tub. "Don doesn't understand their customs. He doesn't know that dueling is not the solution over there. Don has power we do not understand. He has skills we cannot encompass, and knowledge he should not possess."
"Aye," Helima agreed. "But this power, these skills, and that knowledge can be balanced."
The speaker stepped into her robe. "They can be balanced. With the Light."
~*~
Amy wasn't surprised to see the pale blue of her bedroom walls, or to see her dad perched on the edge of her bed.
She leaned back against her pillows. "It happened again."
Her father nodded. "Are you alright?"
"Yes." Amy remembered being with Jesse and Mr. Hicks in the science office. "Who brought me home this time?"
Her father chuckled at this question. "Another nice boy. Brown hair."
Amy stretched and sat up carefully. "Jesse," she realized. Not Carley or Brad. Interesting. "What time is it?"
Her father didn't seem to like the idea of Amy getting out of bed already—he was frowning, watching as she shifted closer to the edge of the bed. "Six o'clock."
"Six o'clock!" Amy blurted. "My shift is in half an hour."
The bed squeaked as Amy's father edged off. "I called and told Gordon you weren't feeling well." He walked over to the window and drew the blinds.
"Dad," Amy whined, "I've never missed a shift. I feel fine. If I grab something to eat, I can still make it—"
"No, Amy."
Something about the way he said it surprised her. Amy's father always trusted her judgment and rarely laid down any rules.
"But, Dad—"
He folded his arms across his chest, looking taller than ever. "You're staying home tonight. I want you to rest."
Amy opened her mouth, but something stopped her—it was that look in her dad's eyes, like last time. His gaze flitted to the picture of her mother, then back to her, his eyes moist. Amy felt a lump form in her throat. He's worried.
"Okay, Dad."
Her father nodded, looking somewhat relieved. He made to leave the room, then stopped. "Oh—Brad called you. He said it's important."
Amy tried not to sound too excited. "Oh? I'll call him back soon, thanks."
Alone again, Amy flopped onto her bed and let her hands hang over the sides. Another fainting spell and another dream. Her dreams rarely continued one after the other like these two, let alone in such vivid detail. Amy rolled over and the blood rushed to her head. Whatever these dreams were, they were interfering. Distracting. Maybe even disturbing. She hoped they would stop.
Amy picked up her cordless phone and found Brad's number listed on the display. She dialed and he picked up.
Brad's voice came in a rush. "Hey, Amy, how are you feeling?"
Amy smiled. It felt so nice to hear his voice. "Never better. It was nothing."
She could hear him exhale in relief. "That's good to hear. I offered to take you home, but Jesse insisted. That guy's pretty attached to you."
While Amy liked the hint of jealously, she was eager to steer the conversation away from Jesse. "I'll have to thank him later. So...did you call to see how I was doing?" She admired her own bluntness. It was unlike her, but it got to the point. I should probably thank Carley for rubbing off on me.
"Oh yeah. Mr. Hicks is making a big deal about these labs. He handed out an outline for the presentation."
"Presentation?"
"As in 'appearance,'" Brad clarified. "He wants it to be typed up and formatted a certain way for Monday. Do you think we could meet up to work on it? Maybe at the library?"
Amy mentally ran through her plans for the weekend. She had calculus and English homework. "Sure. When?"
"How about Sunday?"
"That's kind of last minute."
Brad sounded guilty. "I'm busy on Saturday, unless you want to meet in the evening."
Amy sighed. "Can't—I'm working the evening shift tomorrow. Sunday it is. What time?"
"One o'clock?"
"Okay, I'll see you then."
"Take care."
Not more than a second after she had hung up, Amy dialed Carley's number. She was relieved to hear her best friend on the other end.
"Amy, you did it again!" Carley joked. "Honestly—there are other ways of attracting guys, you know. I followed Jesse home, by the way, in my car. I think you'll be happy to know I was protecting you just in case."
Amy smiled. "Thank you, Carley, that means a lot to me."
"Jesse and Brad both wanted to—"
"I heard—Brad told me."
"When did you talk to Brad?"
Amy could picture Carley perking up on the other end. "Just now—he wanted to talk about our lab. Listen, I wanted to tell you about this dream I had."
"Yay, another dream!" Carley exclaimed, not at all sarcastically. She was silent throughout Amy's telling of the dream. "I believe we can safely deduce that the more you know about the speaker, the more is revealed to you."
"But I can't learn anything about the speaker unless I see her," Amy pointed out. "It's a lose-lose situation."
Carley was probably shaking her head. "Not necessarily. You figured out she was a woman, and you were right. With each dream will come more clues."
"How do you know I'm going to have more?" Amy perched on the edge of her bed. "I'm just going to pretend they aren't happening. Maybe I'm allergic to something and it makes my mind conjure strange dreams." She cringed at her own desperate and lame explanation.
"This isn't something you can ignore," Carley insisted. "Did you consider the possibility that these dreams mean something? My hunch is that you have to find out who this speaker is. She's trying to tell you that she needs something. Maybe you have to find that something and only then will the dreams stop."
Go figure—Carley was already creating an imaginary world of her own. "So what, I have to find this Light thingie?" An idea occurred to Amy. "Maybe the light represents my lab project or something."
"Or even Brad."
Amy mulled that over. "That's possible. But I don't need to find Brad or the lab. They aren't lost."
"Maybe Brad has a secret you have to find."
Amy thought back to the girl with the blond ponytail, suddenly feeling like she'd grabbed a mushy cucumber one day past its due date. She shook her head, pushing away the memory. "This is pointless. We have no proof to back up what we're saying. Listen, I'll see you on Monday, okay?"
"Are you going online tonight?" Carley asked.
"Probably not—my dad wants me to relax. Can you believe he called work and said I was sick?"
"That was a good idea. You deserve a break; you work so hard. Chill tonight and I'll check up on you tomorrow, okay?"
"Thanks, Carley."
"Bye!"
Amy returned the phone to its cradle. She did deserve a break. She shuffled down the stairs to heat up a bowl of vegetable soup, devoured it and then retired to her room.
After a thankfully dreamless night, Amy woke up feeling refreshed and ready to spend the entire day doing homework, reading a book and going to work. She thought she spotted Jesse's brown head in the crowd, but convinced herself she was being paranoid. She spent the rest of the evening contemplating Jesse's existence, wondering where he came from, why he moved to Fieldgate, and why he seemed so interested in her. She found no reason why he'd pick her out of all the girls at Adam High. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy—and not only under her own forgiving standards, but even according to Carley. He seemed nothing like the stalker he had appeared to be.
Amy had trouble falling asleep that night—satisfied with having analyzed the Jesse mystery from every angle, her brain had finally moved on to the thought of her meeting with Brad the next day. When she finally fell asleep, she dreamt she was in science class. Brad was pulling on one arm while Jesse tugged on the other, until Marcus ran toward her, his face swallowed in flames, which Carley extinguished with a bucket of water. Mr. Hicks was screaming, "Late! Late!" and throwing sweaty rulers.
"Late! Amy, you're going to be late."
Amy groaned and forced her eyes open. Her father was shaking her in an attempt to wake her up.
"Brad called to confirm your meeting."
Amy shot up in bed. "Oh no! What time is it?"
Her dad laughed. "It's okay. You've got to be at the library in forty minutes, but we'll get you there. I'll make you some breakfast."
Amy leaned back against her pillows. "Thanks, Dad. We've got to stop meeting like this," she joked.
To her surprise, her dad laughed, the sound like genuine music to Amy's ears. He's rarely happy, she realized with a pang.
"Yes, I agree." He ruffled her hair. "I'll see you downstairs."
Amy got dressed while her father made banana pancakes, which she gulfed down after doing her hair and packing her backpack. Her dad tossed her the keys, which she caught with a smile. She turned up the radio as she drove to the library, enjoying the breeze flowing through the open window. It ran through her long hair and tickled her neck, which made her smile even more.
Amy recognized Brad's red Honda, which was in bad need of a cleaning job. This made her laugh because it reminded her all the more of Brad. She entered the library with a bounce in her step. Brad was bent over a magazine at one of the tables but looked up when she entered.
"Amy!"
A moment too late, he seemed to realize he'd yelled—in a library. Amy and Brad stared at each other, then burst out laughing at the same time. Brad looked around, as if checking to see whether anyone was going to eject him from the library, then smiled at her. Amy almost melted. He gave a small wave, which actually caused her to teeter on her sandals.
Amy couldn't hold back her smile as she and Brad walked towards each other. How could I ask for more than this?