In our endeavors to recall to memory something long forgotten,
We often find ourselves upon the very verge of remembrance,
Without being able, in the end, to remember.
-from “Ligeia”, Edgar Allan Poe
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Ms. Lockwood!”
I sat up from my desk, momentarily recovering from my dream about creepy woods and those strange, piercing blue eyes, belonging to a face that was beginning to blur and slip from my mind. I looked up and met the wide-eyed glare of Mr. Coleman, my fourth period English teacher with balding, nearly gray hair, big fish eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and a mouth set in a permanent frown. He looked like a pirate in a suit. I grimaced.
“What about you, Ms. Lockwood? What do you think of Poe’s Ligeia?” He asked, watching me like how an eagle watches its prey with eyes steady, waiting. “And I assume you’ve read the story? Since you’d rather drift off to dreamland than listen in my class,” he added, earning a few snickers from my classmates.
I can’t even remember my dream, and your class isn’t helping! I thought to myself and chuckled, earning another death glare from him.
“Um, I think…” I trailed off, feeling a little embarrassed under everyone’s gaze. I hated being the center of attention. Before I could give an answer, the bell rang, signaling the end of class and the start of lunch time. I heard the rushing footfalls and excited chatter of students outside as they were probably heading towards the cafeteria. Inwardly, I sighed in relief.
“Huh, saved by the bell, how cliché,” Mr. Coleman said and frowned at me. “I expect an answer next meeting, Ms. Lockwood.” I just gave him my brightest smile and began gathering up my things.
“Class dismissed.” I heard him say and then everyone was in a hurry grabbing their things and filing out of the room.
I waited for the crowd to clear before I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed out into the packed and noisy hallway. I scrunched up my nose in disgust as sweat and different smells of cologne filled the air around me. Students pushed past me, bumping into my shoulder, not even bothering to take a second glance. I hated crowded spaces – it made me feel like I’m trapped, suffocating, drowning in a sea of bodies. I sauntered over to my locker, avoiding incoming people as much as possible.
I stuffed my things in the locker and closed it a little too hard. I looked from side to side, expecting weird stares at my direction. I noticed then that almost everyone seemed to be doing the same thing, banging locker doors as if their hinges couldn’t possibly fall off at any second.
Harriet. The voice whispered right behind my ear. I stiffened, feeling goose bumps all over. Try to remember. The dream. It spoke so gentle and so soft I would have thought my mind was playing tricks on me again. Maybe I was being paranoid, but of course, I knew better.
“I can’t,” I whispered back, though I didn’t know why I did. The words just came out like they were pulled out of me.
Please. I gasped. I wasn’t expecting an answer. I didn’t even think he could hear me. I don’t know what else to do. I felt a tightening in my chest, not because hearing voices – particularly that voice – was starting to freak me out for real, but because the voice, the tone in it, was pleading in a desperate way, the kind that makes you want to reach out and hug that person. I chuckled. Silly me, wanting to hug someone I can’t even see. Who would I hug, the air? I shook my head, willing the voice and the thoughts away. Creeps, I’m feeling sympathy for a ghost. A ghost that’s really pushing me to the edge of idiotic lunacy.
I was just heading towards the cafeteria when: “Hey!” said a voice behind me, clamping a hand on my shoulder. I jumped at the contact. “Oh, jumpy,” the voice, which I realized was feminine, teased. I turned my head and met the friendly smile and big brown eyes of a brunette who was a lot shorter than me. She wore a leather jacket over a vintage dress and black combat boots that ended just below her knees. She looked like a Goth – minus all the heavy make-up, piercings, and vampire-like charisma – with a girly and edgy vibe.
“What’s up with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she commented, raising her defined eyebrows that perfectly framed her face.
I heard one, I was tempted to say, but that would have sounded weird. “I was just thinking about…something,” I said, still a little distracted.
“So I guess you’re more of a thinker than an observer,” she said, falling in step with me. “I think we’ll get along pretty well then. I’m Lena by the way.” She smiled and stuck her hand out to me. I stopped walking.
For a moment I thought about earlier when I had my first look at the school where I’d be attending for the half of junior year – since I spent the first half in Massachusetts, before my mom decided to move out and I was forced to transfer and leave my friends – and probably the whole of senior year too, if I wasn’t lucky. And the school’s name just happened to be Phantom High. How ironic, as if everything was not bad or weird enough.
Looking from the outside, I could say that Phantom was really big, but not bigger than my old school. The whole building seemed to be made of brick walls, both old and new ones. Except for the glass windows lining the second and third floors, everything looked like it came straight out of the Victorian Era. The driveway was neat – no sign of litters save the occasional brown and yellow leaves here and there – and surrounded by well-trimmed trees and bushes. Pulling in and climbing out of the car, I couldn’t help feeling as though I was stepping into the past. I passed the monument that says “Phantom High School – Labyrinth Road, Baltimore County” in front of the entrance and went inside, feeling the warm tingle at the back of my hand – which had been bothering me since I left the manor – subside.
The color of the school was blue and silver, so I wasn’t surprised when I saw blue lockers with silver combination locks lining the walls. The bell that signaled the start of first period had just rung when I made it to the front office to get my schedule, inwardly dreading the realization that I was not only way behind in classes, but also going to be late in the first period of my first day. A plump middle-aged woman handed me my schedule and a slip, smiled and wished me luck. I scanned the paper. First period: History. I sighed and ran on my way to the classroom which was on the second floor, so I still had to use the stairs.
By the time I found the right room I was already sweating, my breath coming out in pants. I had burst in the door without knocking, startling the class. They stared at me like I was some artifact on display. I looked away and quickly handed the slip to the teacher, who was frowning at me. The teacher, Mr. Burke, who was still wearing that frown on his face, finally realized that I was the new student and just like that, his expression changed in a snap: his frown had gone upside down. That’s right, he smiled – I almost thought he didn’t know how – and gave me the welcome aboard greeting as most teachers do. He nodded at the seat right in front, where everything you do got caught, and even mere looking at your side would be suspected as cheating in a test. I wouldn’t have agreed to sit in front if there were still available seats, but unfortunately, there weren’t.
Before I had slid into my seat, I caught the green eyes of a boy two rows back. He had messy umber hair and was sitting with his arms crossed. Our eyes had locked for a split second. He smirked. I broke away and settled in my seat, not looking anywhere but ahead. That was how awkward and embarrassing my day had started.
I blinked. I had observed a lot, thank you very much. “I’m Harriet.” I took her hand in mine and shook it.
“Oh, I know.” She beamed at me. “We have English together.”
I made a face, remembering what happened. “You saw that, huh?”
Lena gave me an apologetic look. “Everyone did.”
I didn’t say anything. We just walked side by side the rest of the way. We were almost there when she said, “Just some advice though” – she looked me in the eyes, putting up a mock serious expression – “don’t ever fall sleep in Mr. Coleman’s class. Believe me, I have, and he made me read a whole story in front of everyone. It was so embarrassing,” she added with a nonchalant shiver.
“I’ll try to remember that, thanks,” I said, shaking my head in amusement.
Her face broke into a wide grin again. I swear this girl couldn’t stop smiling. “Come on, eat lunch with us, you’ll love it! You’re just about to meet the rest of the gang too!” She almost jumped in excitement, making me laugh as she pushed on the doors and half-dragged me inside the cafeteria.
What gang?
It turned out that Lena’s so-called gang was hardly even one, except if you consider a group of three people a gang, then maybe it could be. Yep, it was a threesome, like The Three Musketeers or The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe kind of thing.
When Lena was leading me inside the cafeteria I was so lost in thought that I hadn’t realized that we were already in front of someone’s table.
“Hallo, Gray,” said a masculine voice in a thick British accent, startling me. I looked up and met a pair of green eyes. He had his arms crossed and was grinning at Lena. It took me a few seconds before I realized it was the guy from my history class. Only now he was wearing geeky glasses that made his eyes look unusually bright. No wonder I didn’t recognize him at first. I didn’t know if he just wanted to look smart or nerdy, but it’s definitely not working. He looked more like some hot guitarist in a band. Wait, did I just think he’s hot? No way.
“Who’s your friend?” He shot a quick glance at my direction. For a second, we just stared at each other, until he blinked and his lips formed into a smirk. “I remember you.” He leaned back, and I was suddenly aware that his figure was too tall to be sprawled on such a small chair. “You’re the girl who barged in and gaped at me in History,” he said with a cocky grin.
I glared at him. “I did not.”
“Did too.” He was still grinning like an idiot. My hands tingled, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the weird feeling earlier since the drive or from the sudden urge to punch that grin off his face.
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Did not!”
“Did too,” he drawled in a singsong voice.
“You–”
“O-kay, that’s enough.” Lena, who was looking back and forth with a weird expression towards me and the cocky British guy she calls her “friend” the whole time we were bickering, clapped her hands together and moved to stand at the side between us. She turned to him. “Back off, Reid,” she said, sounding miffed, but her amused expression and the twitch at the corners of her mouth betrayed her nonetheless. The next thing that happened made me roll my eyes: he grinned at her, though it wasn’t like the cocky grin that got on my nerves. Surprisingly, it was genuine, making him look years younger than he was. Lena giggled, playfully shoving him on the shoulder.
“So…” she began, shifting her gaze from me to the still unnamed guy…or what was it? Reed? Reid? “You already met?”
“No,” I said at the same time Green Eyes said, “Yes.”
Lena looked confused. “Right.”
I ignored the question in her eyes and turned my attention to Green Eyes who was trying to look as honest as possible. “Really? But I don’t remember ever meeting you,” I said, feigning a quizzical expression.
He waved me off. “We have History together, so that counts for something.”
“What’s my name?”
The question seemed to catch him off guard. “What?”
“What’s my name?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Uh, shouldn’t you be the one who knows that?”
“If you know me, then tell me, what’s my name?”
“Bernie,” he deadpanned and then burst out laughing. At the corner of my eye I saw Lena’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. I frowned at them both.
Lena met my eyes and cleared her throat. “Obviously, you haven’t met, and you,” –she looked at Green Eyes–“should know that having a class together doesn’t count.”
“So!” She exclaimed. “Ian, this is Harriet,” she gestured to me, “Harriet, this is–”
“The name’s Ian Reid,” Green Eyes cut in, earning an annoyed look from Lena, which he easily returned with his signature grin, “and I have no relation to either the politician or the footballer.” I raised an eyebrow at him. What’s he talking about?
Lena rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, he does that all the time when he meets someone,” she said to me.
It took me a moment to notice that Green Eyes or…Ian was already standing, a few inches taller, and holding his hand out to me. I hesitated before I shook it. I almost gasped when our hands connected. I didn’t know what I was expecting exactly; it was as though I was hoping to feel something. Or maybe it was only because the contact sparked something familiar in my head.
“Nice to meet you, Harriet,” he said before he let go of my hand. I frowned, wondering where I heard that before. Sure, everyone I met in the past usually said the same thing, but this voice I was trying to remember…well, it was different.
Ian must have thought my frown meant I was still pissed at him, because he said, “Still mad at me?”
I looked at him. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “I was kind of expecting something more aggressive, like a punch in the face or---you know what? Forget I said anything. I don’t want to give you any ideas in case you decide to go violent on me.”
I fought back a smile. “You’re so weird.”
“Thank you,” he said and winked at me.
“Guys, I hate to break the bond but---hey, where’s Alex?”Lena was already looking around and past us, forgetting what she was about to say.
“You interrupted us to ask about that fish?” said Ian like it was the dumbest thing she’s ever done. “Seriously, Gray, you’re showing it.”
Lena reached up and smacked him upside the head. “Shut up.”
Ian muttered something under his breath, but I barely caught a word before Lena was pulling on my wrist, leading the way to the food counter. She bought a Coke and a big slice of pizza while I had a hamburger, French fries, and an orange soda. Not exactly in the healthy diet, I know. It’s a wonder how I don’t get out of shape, what with my eating habits.
As we were heading back to our table, I saw Ian chugging down a bottled blue drink. He left it half empty-half full just as we put our trays down. I sat across him and Lena beside me. I bit into my burger, and then stuffed two fries into my mouth. Ian looked from me to my food and back. “You eat like a—” he stopped mid-sentence when I shot him a look.
My eyes landed on his bottle – it looked like some kind of an energy drink, I don’t even recognize the name. “Did you eat already?”
“No need. This baby keeps me going,” he said, toying with the bottle, blue liquid swirling around.
“And pretzels,” said Lena.
Ian nodded. “And pretzels…but they don’t have it today,” he added as an afterthought.
Lena frowned, furrowing her eyebrows in some realization. “Lunch is almost over. Where the hell is he?”
I saw Ian roll his eyes. “Why are you so worried?” He shot at her. I looked around and noticed some students returning their trays and leaving.
“I’m just excited for him to meet Harriet,” she returned with a smile, ignoring his question.
Ian eyes gazed behind us and he smirked. “There he is,” he muttered. “Hey, Flynn! You turtle, where ‘ave you been?”
“Nice to see you too, Ian,” a sexy masculine voice said behind us. He went to sit beside Ian and it took all of me not to stare. He had to be the most handsome boy I had ever seen—well, of course it’s just me. He had golden chestnut hair with razor edges that fell just above his golden brown eyes. Two words: surfer’s look. He was wearing a black v-neck shirt that defined the hard muscles on his shoulders and arms. “Lena! I haven’t seen you all day!” He exclaimed, snatching a ham in Lena’s pizza and popping it into his mouth.
“That’s because I’ve been avoiding you,” said Lena, her face growing serious.
The boy—whose last name I assumed was Flynn—frowned. “Really? Why?”
Lena grinned at him. He made an annoyed sound and muttered something that sounded like I should have known. His eyes then landed on me. “Who are you?”
I wasn’t expecting that. “I…”
“She’s new here,” Lena cut in, which I was grateful for—I could have probably said something stupid if she didn’t—and started the introduction. “Alex, this is Harriet.” She shifted gazes between Alex and I. “Harriet, this is Alex, he’s gay.”
Ian choked in the middle of chugging his blue drink, causing some to spill out of his mouth. My eyes widened, taken aback by her bluntness. I looked at Alex, who was mirroring my expression—eyes wide, lips parted.
Seeing our expressions, Lena burst out laughing. “You…your faces”—she pointed at Ian, laughing harder—“Ian…your face! I really think blue is your color now,” she said in between laughs. Ian was wiping his chin with the back of his hand while giving her a disapproving look.
“I was kidding!” Lena said when she managed to compose herself. Then she saw the look on Alex’s face and quickly added, “Alex is my best friend”—she gave Ian an apologetic look—“Sorry, Ian.” Ian waved her off.
Alex ignored her attempt to make peace and said, “You’re gonna pay for that, Lena bear.” Ian snorted. Alex grinned evilly as Lena’s face turned red.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Lena bear?”
She flushed a deeper red, if that was even possible, and gave Alex a death glare. “You stupid little—”
“Do you mind?” Alex asked me in an all too loud voice—interrupting Lena on purpose—reaching for my fries. When I shook my head, he took one. Lena slapped his hand, causing him to drop the fry. “Hey!”
“Get your own food,” she scolded, still annoyed.
“Lunch is almost over, besides, she doesn’t mind.” He turned to me, taking three fries.
“What took you so long?”
“Practice.”
“You swim?” I cut in.
Alex looked at me. “How did you know?”
“I figured. And Ian called you a fish so…”
“I did?” Ian feigned a confused look. Alex turned to him and grabbed his blue drink. “Hey! Give that back!”
Alex raised the lid to his lips. “Don’t you dare,” Ian threatened, but Alex was already drinking it down before he could finish a sentence.
“You know you just indirectly kissed him, right?” Lena told Alex.
“Oh, I know, and he likes it,” Alex said, giving Ian a mischievous look. In return, Ian gave him a dirty look. Lena snickered and I shook my head. What have I gotten myself into?
Just then I caught a flicker of movement at the corner of my eye. I snapped my head to the side, scanning the tables, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary and it looked like I was the only one who noticed. Goose bumps rose up on my arms as I felt someone’s eyes on me, as though burning a hole at the back of my head. I felt sick to my stomach. This can’t be happening again. Not now, not here.
I hesitated looking back, but I did anyway.
I wish I didn’t.
There, against the wall by the door, stood a tall young man with dark brown hair. He could have been any of the students in Phantom, if not for the Union soldier uniform he was wearing. Trust me, I know a Union uniform when I see one—I’ve seen it in history books, and in the Civil War museums and reenactments that Dad and I used to go to when I was a kid.
The young man was looking at me with expressions I feared to decipher; looking at me as if he wanted to tell me about some dirty skeleton in his closet. I broke away, turning to Lena, who was busy giggling at something that either Ian or Alex said.
“Do you see that guy in a uniform by the door?” I whispered to her. She looked back, her eyes eagerly searching the area by the door. She furrowed her eyebrows in question.
“You mean the janitor?”
“No, I mean the guy in a—” I broke off when I saw no one by the door except the janitor, who was mopping a mess on the floor.
“What?”
“Nothing, I just…I thought I saw someone,” I said, distracted again. My thoughts went back to the soldier guy. I didn’t recognize him—which was weird. If he’s the same guy I kept seeing in my dreams, then I should have at least felt even just a sliver of recognition. But there was nothing, nothing at all.
Was he the one who spoke to me in my head? What does he want from me? And why now? Why, why, why, why…
A warm tingle at the back of my hand pulled me back to reality, cutting off the questions that bombarded my thoughts. I shrugged it off, expecting it to fade just like it had earlier, but it went on, and on and on until…
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I blurted out. They all looked at me, each having different expressions: Lena—worried, Ian—bored, and Alex—curious.
“Are you okay?” asked Lena.
No I’m not, and everything is getting weirder and creepier, and I have no idea what’s going on. “I’m fine”—I was already standing then—“I’ll see you guys later,” I said and turned around, heading for the door.
“Hey, Harriet!” Alex called when I was already a few meters away. I looked back and saw him smiling at me. “Nice to meet you.”
I gave him a half-smile. “You too,” I said in a loud voice so that he could catch it, before I started towards the door.
The moment I closed the door behind me, the tingle at the back of my hand grew more persistent that I could no longer ignore it. I rushed through the hallways and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. I ambled over to the sink, bracing myself against it and tightly clutching the edge. I turned the faucet on, letting cold water run against my hands and through my fingers until all I could feel was the cold in my skin. By the time I turned the faucet off, my hands were already numb and slightly purplish. I didn’t mind even if my hands turned to prunes as long as the tingling stopped, and it did. I sighed in relief, closing my eyes. I was becoming aware that I was the only one in the room, since it was so quiet except for my breathing and my recovering heartbeat. Minutes passed and still no one came in, which was weird. From what I’ve observed in my previous schools and other buildings whatsoever that had a bathroom, people were always coming in and out. And considering there’s still ten minutes before lunch was over…it was really strange, unless the people here barely used the toilet or fixed their hair, or even washed their hands for that matter, which would be gross.
I looked up, looking at my reflection in the mirror—the girl stared back at me with strained eyes that mirrored mine. Just then I heard the short creaking sound of one of the stall doors. I stiffened, my eyes darting around the reflection of the stalls in the mirror. I saw it then, the stall at the very end, its door slightly ajar. I eyed it, waiting for movements as I felt my heart beat faster again.
“Is someone there?” I demanded; my voice loud amidst the silence.
Nothing came and just when I made myself believe it was the nonexistent wind, there was a loud bang of a toilet seat cover coming from the same stall. I let out a frantic squeak and whirled around.
“Whoever you are, it’s not funny,” I said, unable to stop the shaking in my voice. I started toward the stall and slowly prodded the door forward before pushing it wide open, its frame slamming against the tiled wall. My heart leapt to my throat as I expected to catch someone inside, but the stall was empty. It made me feel even worse. It was better to see someone—because that would explain the creaking and the banging—than no one at all, for it would only prove something I refused to believe or even think about.
Behind me, I heard water running. I swallowed, my throat going dry. The first thing I thought was run, get out! But I couldn’t move. I was too terrified to even turn around. I fought my fear off and spun around. There it was, right in front of me—the water in a constant pour with a little steam rising, from the faucet that turned on by itself. For a second I thought it couldn’t get any worse, but when my eyes landed on the mirror, I knew the word ‘worse’ was still an understatement. Whoever or whatever it is, it’s not planning on leaving me alone just yet. On the mirror was a thick patch of frost, and written on it were three words that drained the blood out of every vein and artery I had.
Let me in.
I stared at it, dumbfounded. I didn’t know how long I was just standing there, staring at the mirror like a complete idiot, too shocked that I didn’t hear the door being opened until someone spoke.
“Are you planning on flooding the entire school, or just the bathroom?”
I jumped at the voice. I turned my head to the door and saw Ian poking his head in while looking at me with an amused expression. When his words finally registered, I shifted my gaze to the faucet which was still on, but the writing on the mirror was already gone. Of course, I thought begrudgingly. I quickly turned it off and faced a smirking Ian.
“Why are you here?” I demanded, folding my arms across my chest to hide my shaking hands. Inside, I was grateful Ian showed up. If only he didn’t have that annoying smirk on, I would have run to him and hugged him in relief. Now I kind of wished it was Lena or Alex rather than him.
“To get you to class of course, now hurry up or we’re both going to be late,” he said, pulling his head out. I went after him in the hallway. I was able to breathe evenly again. But now I was pretty sure I’d be terrified of bathrooms for the rest of my life.
“Lunch’s over?”
He nodded, though I couldn’t see his face since his back was to me. “Five minutes ago.”
Then the final bell rang, signaling the start of class.
Ian groaned, stopping in his tracks and turning to me. “Now we are late. You owe me, Lockwood. Big time.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Do you always call people by their last name?”
“Nope, just my friends,” he said, draping one arm along my shoulders. “Consider yourself lucky.” He beamed.
I pushed his arm away, but he quickly put it back across my shoulders, pulling me beside him and closer than necessary. I pushed on his side, but he didn’t budge. After more failed attempts, I sighed, letting my arms fall to my sides.
We walked casually in the empty hallway, as though we were in a park, strolling, and not racing against time. I turned my head to him, my nose bumping against the cotton fabric of his dark green sweater I only noticed now. I got a whiff of his faint cologne then, which smelled like mint and soap. I surreptitiously inhaled his scent, enjoying the delicious smell. To my relief, he didn’t seem to notice what I was doing, which was fine. The last thing I needed was him smirking about the fact that I was inhaling his addicting scent, and I so didn’t want to boost his ego.
“What’s your class now?” Ian asked, breaking the silence.
I looked up at him and realized he wasn’t wearing his fake geeky glasses anymore, giving me a clearer view of his bright green eyes. I looked away, pulling the folded piece of paper out of my jeans pocket. I unfolded it, scanning the schedule. “Biology,” I answered after a moment.
“Nice, me too.” To my surprise, he sounded genuinely enthusiastic, no sign of any fibbing or sarcasm. Finally, he removed his arm from my shoulders and put an inch-distance between us.
“Want to skip it?” He said, flashing me a mischievous grin. I glared at him and he sighed. “You’re no fun.”
He started walking ahead of me and I jogged to keep up, but he was still a few strides in front. He looked back, smirking again. “Try to keep up, Lockwood.”
I frowned at the back of his head. He was seriously doing this on purpose, trying to get me out of breath.
“We’re almost ten minutes late,” he told me, his back still to me. As if that made me feel any better.
“Great,” I muttered under my breath.
He slowed his pace until I finally caught up with him, falling in step. He was looking at me with a sheepish expression. “Actually, we are ten minutes late.”
Inwardly, I sighed.
“Or maybe later,” Ian added as an afterthought, only adding to my distress.
What an awesome first day, right?—grumpy teachers, creepy bathrooms, and a particular green-eyed guy that’s literally getting on my nerves. Couldn’t have been better. Note sarcasm.
I mentally face palmed. This was going to be a long day…
_________________________________________________________________________
A/N: *Sighs* This chapter was SO LONG. I'm so sorry for the long wait. But anyway, here it is! I hope you liked it.
Let me know what you think. Comments and criticisms would be very helpful.
Thanks a lot! :)
xxx Caster <3