"Oh, dear! I heard about what happened last night," Nurse Jackson says. Her expression shows concern, but the glimmer in her eyes tells me she has a different agenda. "How is Claire doing? And that older Harrison kid?"
"They're fine," I reply with a polite smile.
"Oh, thank God! I heard it was awful!" she says, her tone clearly tries to coax me into spilling the beans while the curiosity in her eyes grows even clearer.
"Let's not exaggerate, shall we?" I reply while filling my cup with some hot tea the hospital provides for staffers.
"Of course, dear!" she replies, trying her best to sympathize even though I know it won't last long. "Rumor has it Charles' mistress did it. Or is it really the work of a serial killer?"
I raise one brow. Hmm, that's new. Maybe I can use this to my advantage.
"Where'd you hear that?" I ask before blowing on my cup.
"Well, you know, chitter-chatter here and there. Is it true then, dear?"
A small chuckle escapes my lips. "And why would you think I know that?"
"Well..." her smile grows a little shy and mischievous which makes me wonder what is in her mind. I take a sip on my tea while waiting for her to continue. "You know... how you're seeing Lucas and all—"
I nearly choke when I hear her. "Pardon me?"
"Oh dear, don't be shy! The whole staff already knows it," her eyes twinkle as she utters the words. "He's handsome, you're beautiful, you two are a match made in heaven!"
WHAT THE HECK?
I close my eyes, trying to pretend this is all a dream. When I re-open my eyes, I let out a long sigh knowing it is all too real.
"Who is Doctor Brighton's mistress anyway?" I sputter while trying to change the subject.
"No one knows for sure." Her wicked smile grows larger. "Rumor says it's a high school girl."
My eyes widen as I hear the words. Could it be...?
"I know, right! Talk about a forbidden romance!" She giggles.
"Any idea who she is?" I ask, leaning on the counter while taking another sip of my tea.
She shrugs. "No one knows. Charles has a lot of teenage fans, you know? Him being a former basketball star and all."
"He's a what now?" I ask in surprise.
"Oh! I forgot you're new." She giggles. "He was one of the Eagles who brought the team to win the State Championship back in 1999. It was HUGE news at that time. Even now he's still an honorary coach for the Eagles. He was nowhere as good as that other kid if you ask me, but still, the whole team was some kind of local heroes."
Whoa. That douchebag was a basketball star? Well, his physique surely fits the mold and now I know why his ego is way bigger than his head. But more importantly, he's an Eagle, which means he's now a strong suspect in Jill's murder.
My forehead wrinkles in thought as a crazy theory pops into my head. What if Jill is doctor Brighton's mystery mistress?
"What is it, dear? You look like you've seen a ghost!" She lets out a cackling giggle.
"Nothing, it's just... I was wondering, does he by any chance know Jill St. John?" I ask curiously.
"Of course, dear! She's his son's tutor! I've told you how smart that girl is, right? Ah... that takes me back to that time Lorraine got an A..." Nurse Jackson continues to ramble on and on about her daughter's achievement.
In the meantime, the sound of the elevator door opening makes me look its way. Shawn walks out of the elevator with his usual cheerful smile.
"Hey, Lex!" He waves a band as he approaches. "I've heard the news, congratulations!"
His expression is quickly overcome by guilt as he understands there's another meaning to his words.
"I mean, I feel sorry for doctor Brighton and all, but..."
"I know, thanks," I answer with a wide, victorious smile. Because of the incident last night, doctor Brighton is suffering from concussion. Even though he's now awake, he's definitely not yet fit to work. Therefore, they've reassigned me back to John's case.
"Welcome back to the team," he continues.
***
"Knock, knock," I hear a faint voice from the door.
I find it odd why the person outside doesn't just literally knock the door. Then I hear the man clears his throat.
"Knock, knock," the person repeats, this time a bit louder, revealing a familiar voice.
"Just a second!" I reply as I walk towards the door.
But he doesn't seem to hear me, instead, he continues with a louder voice, "Uhm, Alexis?"
I don't bother replying anymore once it becomes clear to me who's at the door.
"Hello? Al—"
I open the door and put one hand on my waist. I raise one brow and flash an amused smile at him. "You know you could've just walked through the door, right?
"Well, yeah. But this seems more... appropriate," he replies with a shy smile, but somehow I can hear a hint of sadness in his voice.
It's these kinds of things that make me feel sorry for him. I suppose the slightest gesture can make him feel a bit normal and God knows both of us can use a bit of normalcy these days.
"Come on in." I gesture for him to come inside my apartment.
"So..." he mumbles as he walks past the door. "Are you sure we're going to do this? The last time you did this, you..." His eyes move to the direction of the small, faint scar on my cheek.
"John, we talked about this," I interrupt. "The doctors have decided to wake you up in less than two weeks, which is good. But that also means this is probably our last chance to figure out what you saw that night."
"But there's also a chance that I might remember everything when I wake up, right?" he insists.
"And what if you don't?"
My words silence him. His expression turns sad and slightly disappointed. I let out a sigh. "John, I hate to say this, but what if your memory doesn't come back just by waking you up from the coma?"
"Look." I step closer to him and put my hand on his shoulder—or well, more like on the air. "I'll be okay. I promise."
He doesn't answer right away, instead his lips form a straight line. Then, he lets out a deep sigh. "Okay, so what do I do?"
A small smile is curved on the edge of my lip. "Come on." I gesture for him to follow me to my room.
He stops walking by my bedroom door. His eyes widen as soon as he sees the man sitting on the chair next to my desk.
"Is he here?" Lucas asks.
"Uh-huh," I reply.
"What is he doing here?" John asks, his tone defensive.
I turn around, my lips forming a small smirk. "You don't think I'm going to do this without taking any precaution, right?"
I called Lucas earlier to ask him to sit through the whole seance thing. Why? Because honestly, I'm scared. The thing that happened last time was unpredictable and frankly quite dangerous. What if this time I got back to the time John got burnt? Let me tell you, I am not planning on becoming a female version of Freddy Krueger anytime soon.
I walk over to my bed and sit cross-legged on it. John looks hesitant and still cautious of Lucas, but he follows and takes a seat in front of me.
"Take a deep breath." I offer both hands, palms open and up. He inhales deeply before placing his hands on mine.
"Now close your eyes and go back to that fateful night," I instruct and he complies. Meanwhile, I take a deep breath myself—getting ready for whatever's coming my way—and close my eyes. "Focus on that particular moment when the assailant was shooting at you."
This time, it doesn't take long before I can feel an energy of some sort, coming out from the palms of his hands. The energy feels warm and just keeps getting warmer. Slowly, the doubt in myself begins to reverberate. I close my eyes tightly and grit my teeth.
Get a grip, Alexis!
I know, I know. It's just—
A faint sound of a bouncing ball being dribbled breaks my thought. The sound is getting clearer and closer to me when the noise of a cheering crowd suddenly fills my head, sending a stabbing ache on my head that makes me bite my lips. The pain goes as fast as it comes, but the smell of sweats lingers on the suffocating air around me.
It takes a while before I manage to gather my wits and slowly open my eyes. The first thing I see is the scoreboard hanging over the center of the court.
The score says 'Home - 65, Guest - 63'; while the timer says there are 15 seconds left.
Only two points difference. We can do this. I can do this.
Aha! That's John's voice! I'm in!
Unfortunately... it's the wrong memory again.
I begin to notice I'm right in the middle of a basketball court. The large arena is filled with a crowd on either side of the court, there doesn't seem to be any vacant place left. The size of the arena and the posh lighting leads me to believe this is a prestigious competition.
My gaze is then drawn to the ball in one of the player's hands. The boy is young, perhaps still in high school, which means this must be an old memory of John's. He's wearing a black and yellow jersey with a huge 'TIGER' word and number 5 printed on it. Then, I look around me and find some other players wearing the same jersey albeit with different numbers. Meanwhile, the opponent is standing with their back to me, so I can't get a clear look at the words printed on their jersey. The only thing I can tell is that they're wearing a navy blue jersey with white collar and hem.
Wait... This color...
"Go, go, go!" a man wearing a navy blue jacket—the team's coach, I presume—yells from the courtside.
My arms and legs move by themselves, running towards the boy dribbling the ball. A strong instinct inside me says he's going to pass the ball soon. In a quick second, I take a glance around. My gaze then falls to a thin blonde boy about 10 feet away from the boy with the ball, whom I notice no one is guarding. If I were holding the ball, he's the one I would pass the ball to. So, I make a split-second decision to swivel and run towards him. Then, my prediction is proven to be true. The other boy throws the ball towards the direction of the blonde boy. I jump in front of him and manage to intercept the ball.
"Go Eagles!" I can hear a girl's voice loud and clear while the rest of the crowd cheers aloud.
Before I know it, I'm already dribbling the ball towards the other end of the court. Another player wearing a black jersey is closing in on me, trying to block and possibly take the ball from me. I glance at the scoreboard, noticing the timer now states there are 3 seconds left.
There's no more time. I've got to take the shot now.
Without any hesitation, I stop right outside the three-point line, take my aim and jump. I shoot the ball towards the basket. One of the boys in black jumps in front of me, trying to block the ball, but the ball flies just above his arm's reach.
For a split second, everything around me feels like stopping. Tension builds inside me fast, blood pumping through my veins while I can practically hear my own heartbeat. One second feels like forever.
Then, the ball goes into the basket a quick moment before the siren blazes, effectively ending the game. I look to the scoreboard and see the timer now shows 0. My gaze is drawn to the score below it.
Home - 65, Guest - 66.
We won? We won. We won!
I can feel my mouth forming a huge, unbelievably proud smile. My legs are slowly starting to kill me, it's like I've been running for an hour non-stop. I'm still stunned when my teammates surround me and start to lift me up. The crowd then goes insane as they shout in unison, "Eagles! Eagles! Eagles!"
I can feel an immeasurable, unstoppable joy inside me. The feeling is both surreal and unbelievable at the same time. It reminds me of that time I won the Spelling Bee contest when I was in 4th grade. Cheesy, I know.
As waves of relief and happiness start to overflow, I pump both fists up into the air and roars, "Woo-hoo!"
The whole team, including our coach and the rest of the team who was sitting on the bench, is now surrounding me. That's when I notice a familiar face among them walking towards me from the bench. He's much younger—more specifically, 20 years younger—than now, but he has the same sullen eyes, annoying expression, and a clear arrogant smile upon his face. It's my sworn enemy: Doctor Charles Brighton.
Dammit. How dare he acts like a superstar when he was just a substitute player?
Wait... Does that mean Doctor Brighton and John were on the same team? But... that would also mean John was an Eagle!
Duh, isn't it obvious?
But how? Isn't he from LA?
Questions after questions flood through my brain when suddenly a sharp pain invades my head. My vision slowly becomes blurry and everything around me starts spinning. There's a constant ringing in my ears, as if a bomb just explodes next to me, while the pain in my head goes stronger, making me close my eyes tightly. I want to scream out loud, but not a single sound comes out from my mouth.
"... stay outside and wait for us to come out. Once I give the signal, get ready to drive. Got it?" a man's voice breaks my thought.
The piercing sound in my ears gradually disappears, but the pain in my head is still distracting me.
"Hey, new guy!" the man's voice is followed by the snap of his hand.
I quickly open my eyes. A brawny, bald guy with tattoos all over his body is standing right in front of me.
"I said..." he takes a step forward towards me. "Got it?" he repeats with a threatening tone.
"Yeah, I got it," I reply with a surprising amount of calm.
He takes a step back and glances around at the other people in the room. There are 5 other people in this old warehouse. With only one quick look, I can tell they're not good guys. In fact, I'm fairly sure they belong to a criminal gang.
"The bank over at 8th Street. 9 PM," he pauses and turns to throw a threatening gaze at me. "Late and you're dead."
I can feel my body shivers a little, but there's no way I'm letting those guys see my fear. I stand up straight, looking at him squarely in the eyes. The face-off lasts a few seconds before he throws a key my way. I catch the key mid-air with my right hand.
"Take good care of that car," he pauses and points at a silver Camaro behind me.
Wait a minute. Isn't this the car John was driving the night of his accident? But that means... John didn't steal the car! This man must've done that!
My inner smile is cut off when the man steps forward and stops about a foot away from me. John looks up to his eye-level. That's when I realize, this guy is a freaking giant. I mean, John is tall, but this guy must've been at least six-foot-five!
"Anything happens to that car?" He pauses, before making a throat-slitting gesture.
I personally would faint out of fear at the sight, but John does a pretty good job in covering his nerves. After a while, the man finally steps back and leaves on his huge motorcycle. His friends soon follow with their own respective vehicles, leaving John alone in this place.
Once they're gone, I take a deep breath and exhale loudly with relief. Even though John is playing tough, I get the impression that he's not exactly used to this.
What am I doing? Getaway driver, really? What was I thinking, saying yes to this?
Getaway driver? So... they're planning to rob a bank?
Oh, no. That means John really is a criminal!
Have a little faith, will ya?
I know. It's just—
My thought is cut short by the sound of a ringing phone. I can feel the phone vibrating in my jeans' pocket. I take out my phone and see Jill's name and photo on the phone. She is smiling in the photo, a big and carefree smile that makes her look even more beautiful. I take a deep breath, clearing my thoughts, before answering the phone.
"Hey, what's up?"
The girl on the other ends doesn't answer right away. Instead, I hear a faint sound of her sobbing.
"Jill," I continue with a voice full of concern. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," she finally replies in between her sobs. I can tell from her voice that she's trying to get a grip on herself, probably even forcing a smile.
"Hey... Tell me what's going on," I insist.
"It's... Uhm..." she hesitates. "It's nothing. I shouldn't have called—"
"You know you can tell me anything, right? After all, that's what a big brother is for," I try to comfort her. I can feel my lip twitch to a tiny smile.
Big brother? BIG BROTHER! John really is her brother!
Calm down, Alexis!
"I know," I can hear her small chuckle before she goes into silence for a while. "I think... I'm in a lot of trouble... I-I've made a huge mistake and I can't tell anyone about it. Not my friends, not even my parents..." She ends it with a sad, desperate laugh.
"Hey, hey, whatever it is, we can fix it, okay?" I continue to try to comfort her. I glance at my watch and see that it's a little past noon.
Casa Nova is three hours away. If I go now, I can still make it back in time.
"Where are you?"
"No, no, you don't have to come here. I don't wanna bother you with—"
"Tell me where you are," I insist.
She doesn't reply right away. Then, she says, "I'm at school now. But, I guess we can meet at the diner?"
"I'll be there at... Say, 3.30?" I quickly reply.
"Yeah. 3.30 would be great." I can tell from her tone she's a bit more relieved now.
"Great, I'll see you there."
***
I wake up with a jolt. My heart is still racing and there's still a residue of the pain in my head, although it gradually disappears. On the corner of my eyes, I can see Lucas approaching me with concern.
"Doc, are you okay?" he quickly asks.
I swallow and try to catch my breath. "Yeah. I'm fine."
"You sure?" he insists.
I give a firm nod before pushing myself into a sitting position. I look around to search for John and find him lying on the floor next to the bed's leg.
"So, what did you see?" Lucas asks.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes as I recall my vision. The memories slowly come back to me. "There were two important things," I say before opening my eyes.
"But first things first," I turn to glance at the still unconscious spirit, "I think I figure out who he is."
Author's Note:
Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait!
So, we're getting real close to finding out John's identity, and also in a few chapters, what really happened the night of Jill's murder. Stay tuned! :)
Thanks for reading! ^-^