The Deadly Truth (5)

The next morning, I walked to my locker. And the whole way there, I received stares, pointed fingers, and whispers from the students of my school, Seattle High.

And those stares, pointed fingers, and whispers just made everything ten times worse. Was I forever going to be known as ‘girl with dead sister’? I hoped not. Things were already weird enough at home, couldn’t I at least have a little normalness at school?

The small circle of girls who were blankly staring at me from about seven feet away answered that question for me. “You need something?” I demanded. One of the girls shook her head, all of their eyes filling with embarrassment from being caught. “Well then stop staring.” I retorted.

They all nodded their heads briskly and scurried off, whispering to one another all the way down the hall. “Who would’ve ever guessed that Becca’s death would make you famous.” someone said from behind me. And I knew who it was. I knew that voice way too well. That intriguing, smooth, honey-sweet voice could only belong to one person: Bobby.

I turned to face him, smirking. “I wouldn’t exactly call it famous.” I remarked.

He shrugged, “Well you’re certainly getting extra attention.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of starting to creep me out.” I said. He laughed that perfectly angelic laugh of his and just about made my heart melt. And knowing that he could do that to me just by laughing made me despise him.

“Well I’d better get going. I’ve got to get to class.” he informed me.

“Yeah, same here.” I replied.

“Alright, well I guess I’ll talk to you later then. Bye,” Then he walked off.

“Crap,” I murmured. I’d forgotten to ask him about the dream I’d had last night. His gorgeousness distracted me too much.

At that moment I made a decision. I had to stop liking Bobby. Yeah it would be tough considering how deeply infatuated I was with him. But it had to stop, because I knew that if it didn’t, it would divert me from finding out whether or not he killed Becca. And I couldn’t let that happen.

So I would just have to put my desire for Bobby aside for now pretend that he wasn’t complete perfection.

I walked to first period biology, repeating that over and over again in my head, as if that would make it come true: I’m not attracted to Bobby. I’m not attracted to Bobby. I’m not attracted to Bobby.

But as I approached the door to my biology classroom, I passed by a garbage can. And inside the garbage can was an empty Starbucks cup. And the empty Starbucks cup reminded me of when I’d seen Bobby at Starbucks the previous day. And that reminded me of how beautiful he looked in the slightly dim lights of the coffee shop. And that just destroyed my whole theory about how I no longer liked him.

I sighed deeply as I stepped into class just as the bell rang. I took a seat in the back row next to a guy named Connor. Connor was your stereotypical class clown. He made crude comments, he had random outbursts, he was sarcastic, a teacher’s worst nightmare.

But today he looked different than unusual. Instead of his full-time amused, care-free, comical grin, his mouth formed a straight, grim line. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, not saying a word.

“Ok, class has started.” Mrs. Hopkins declared. Usually, she had to tell the class to stop talking, but not today. Today it was dead silent. And it was strange how my presence caused that. “Alright, everyone start on today’s journal.” she commanded.

We all took out our notebooks and began working on the word problem on the whiteboard. Something about dominant and recessive traits. I knew that we had to draw a Punnett Square for it, but my mind was somewhere else.

Instead of thinking about science, I was thinking about none other than Bobby. I knew I shouldn’t; after all, he was a forbidden topic to me. But I couldn’t control what thoughts decided to enter my brain. If I could, I wouldn’t be picturing Bobby right now. With his dreamy blue eyes and erotic body.

I shook my head, hoping that this motion would shake these thoughts from my mind. But it didn’t work. Because whenever I tried not to think about him, I ended up doing it anyways. He was like some kind of unwanted addiction.

Before I realized what was happening, I heard Mrs. Hopkins call out my name. My head jolted up, looking at her and every head turned to look at me. “Um, sorry, what was the question?” I asked, feeling stupid.

“I said why don’t you come up here and draw your Punnett Square on the board for everyone to see?” she informed me, clearly annoyed. I hated Mrs. Hopkins. My sister was dead, she shouldn’t be calling on me to draw Punnett Squares.

But I reluctantly stood up anyways and slowly walked up to the board, picking up a dry-erase marker and drawing a square. I filled it in, glancing at the problem every few seconds and trying to think it through as fast as I could. But I managed to draw and fill it out, and walked back to my seat as soon as I finished.

Mrs. Hopkins scanned it for errors and then turned back to the class. I could tell that she was looking forward to me getting it wrong, which is why she was so irritated that I’d gotten it right. “Very good, Rachel.” she muttered.

Connor looked over at me, giving me a small smile. I smiled back, full of pride. And throughout the rest of class, I wasn’t called on at all. When the bell finally rang, I gathered my things and walked out into the hallway, which was swarming with students.

And every time I passed by one of them, they stared. Some pointed. Some spoke hushed comments to their friends. But when I passed by Lindsey, she didn’t do any of these things. Instead, she purposely fell into step with me.

“Hi,” she greeted me.

“Hello,” I replied, my tone dull. I never really liked Lindsey. She was much too preppy and perky for me. So if she continued talking to me like this, I was bound to get annoyed.

“It must be weird to have everyone staring at you like this.” she said.

“No, it’s not weird at all. In fact, I barely even noticed.” I remarked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I was hoping that she would maybe take a hint and just walk away. But no, unfortunately I wasn’t that lucky.

“Really?” she asked, oblivious to the fact that I was being sarcastic. “I noticed right away.”

I rolled my eyes, “So did I. I was just being sarcastic.” I explained to her.

“Oh, right.” she responded as if she knew this the entire time.

I simply shook my head and tried to pick up the pace so that I could get away from her. But she was faster than I thought, because she stayed right beside me.

“Don’t you have to get to class or something?” I demanded, coming to an abrupt halt and turning to face her.

She stopped too, looking at me in disappointment. “Listen, if you’re trying to tell me that you don’t want to talk to me, I get it. I was just hoping that you and I could become friends, that’s all. I mean, Becca and I were really close and it’s really hard for me now that she’s…gone.”

“So you’re pretty much saying that since Becca’s gone, you’re moving onto the next best thing: her sister?” I inquired.

“No, not at all!” she replied hastily.

I raised an eyebrow in aversion, “Is it because I’m the next closest thing to Bobby?”

She blushed beet red and her eyes filled with anger. “I’m over Bobby, ok?” she remarked.

“If you say so,” I chimed. And this time, when I continued to walk, she didn’t follow.

Later that day, I walked to my locker to grab my lunch, which I’d tossed into a brown bag. Then I walked to the cafeteria and sat down at a vacant table, biting into my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I’d almost forgotten that Bobby was in this lunch period. Until he sat down right next to me.

“Hi,” he said casually.

“Hi,” I replied, cursing my heart for fluttering at the sight of him. But I gained control of myself. At least enough to ask him what I’d meant to ask him earlier. “Uh, Bobby, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Well,” I decided that if I was going to tell him, I might as well tell him the truth. “The last two nights, I had these dreams.”

“Ok…” he said, clearly confused.

“But they weren’t just any dreams. They were like…visions.” I told him. His eyes widened and I could tell that he thought I was crazy. But I continued nevertheless. “They weren’t visions of the future though, they were visions of the past. Of when Becca died. In the first one, I just saw you two storm into the garage and start yelling and then I saw Lindsey knock over the rakes and get your attention.” This clearly sounded familiar to him by the way he looked at me. “And last night, in the second one, I saw you and Lindsey and Becca talk some more. And I heard you say that you were in love with someone else.”

Now he was staring into my eyes, shocked, incredulous, and slightly panicked. “How did you see all that?” he inquired.

“I don’t know. It was all in my dreams.” I tried to explain. “Why, did it really happen?” He looked at me, skeptical, unsure if he should tell me the truth or lie his way out of it. “And please be honest because it’s important.” I added.

He sighed, “Fine, it’s all true. It really happened.”

I nodded, letting out a short, stunned breath. “Well this isn’t strange at all.” I said sarcastically.

He nodded in agreement, laughing nervously. It was quite obvious that he knew what I would ask next. But I felt awkward asking him, like it was an invasion of his privacy. However, it was either ask him and feel awkward, or avoid asking him and possibly never know. So I just asked.

“So, who’s the other girl that you’re in love with?”

He looked away, muttering a quick curse under his breath. Then he looked back at me, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t tell you.”

“Why not?” I demanded.

“Because if I told you, I’d have to kill you.” he responded solemnly, his eyes dark and ominous. I didn’t react, afraid of what he would do in return. But after a moment, he began to laugh and I realized it was just his way of adding comic relief into this conversation to lighten the mood. Or to distract me.

But I wouldn’t let him do that. “Ha ha, very funny. Now seriously, who is it? You can tell me.” I assured him. “It’s not like I’m going to go telling everyone who you’re in love with or anything like that.”

“I know.” he huffed. “But it’s not that I’m afraid you’re going to do that, I just don’t want you to know.”

“Why not?” I asked yet again.

He eyed me in a mixture of irritation and amusement. “You’re persistence annoys me.” he stated.

“Well your stubbornness annoys me.” I retorted.

“Fair enough,” he rejoined. Then he turned to his lunch, taking a bite of his sandwich. But I knew how he functioned. He was trying to avoid the question by sidetracking me. But it wasn’t going to work. So I continued with my persistence.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” I told him.

He turned to me, his eyes filled with contemplativeness. “I‘m not telling you.” he finally declared. “You’ll find out soon enough in your little dream-visions anyways.”

“Well if I’m going to find out anyways, why don’t you just let me know who it is now?” I asked.

“Because I don’t want to tell you face-to-face.” he replied.

“Why, are you embarrassed or something?” I challenged.

He groaned in frustration, “That’s it, I’m done talking about this. It’s time for a subject change.” he announced.

“That’s a yes.” I proclaimed, all high and mighty. Just like how he did yesterday at Starbucks. And at that moment, I knew that I was the one who was in control.

But apparently, Bobby just couldn’t handle this. Which is why he stood up, grabbed his lunch, and walked away.





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cHicKEnWaNg1 said...
Aug. 23, 2010 at 8:47 pm
ooo little bobby vant handle it news flash for bobby: man up dude
 
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