Yet I knew someone was watching me.
Eager to get home, I mentally apologized to my parents for failing to retrieve dinner and broke into a run. As soon as I stepped in, I felt immediately safer, though I was sure that was psychological. Both my parents were there.
“No takeout?” my dad asked.
“Sorry, I forgot.”
With a faint sigh mumble of “teenagers,” my dad started cooking. My mom didn’t, unless you counted oatmeal. She was pretty ferocious on the subject of gender roles, so she’d bought a bunch of DIY repair books, and she handled all minor maintenance, like broken light sockets or leaky faucets. Since my dad had zero interest in being a handyman, he was happier doing the cooking and cleaning anyway.
“So what’re you making??” I asked.
He sounded grumpy. “Stuffed artichokes. How was school?”
“I learned a lot.” That was pretty much my pat answer every day.
Unsurprisingly, my mother asked, “Such as?”
I was prepared for the inquisition to take this turn, however, and I summarized what we covered in physics and Japanese. My mother had less interest in World History and AP Lit, though she did lecture me on the importance of writing meaningful papers. “It’s good practice for your college applications. How are you coming with those? You need to have your essay shipshape by early October.”
“I know. I’ll work on it.”
“Dinner’s in an hour,” my dad cut in.
From his conspiratorial nod, he knew he was saving me from my mother’s zealous approach to college prep. I acknowledged his intervention with a smile. “Okay. I’ll get started on my homework. Call me when it’s done.”
In my room, I remembered how the creepy guy on the platform had tried to grab my wrist, the one that now bore the infinity mark. I’d kept it hidden from my parents beneath long sleeves, but I needed to invest in some leather wrist cuffs, because eventually Mom and Dad would ask why I never wore T-shirts anymore, even to lounge around the house.
Forcing that worry aside, I powered up my laptop and turned on my phone for the first time all day. There were three texts from Kian and none of them made much sense.
There’s something you need to know.
Did he hurt you? I guessed he was referring to the spooky guy in the subway, and I’d give a lot to discover how he knew. I read on.
Whatever you do, don’t let him touch you.
Cold crept over me, prickling my skin into goose bumps. More anxious than ever, I texted back, I’m fine. What’s going on?
I had messages from Vi and Ryu, but they were reassuringly ordinary, just chatty and full of tidbits about their daily lives. It sucked that I couldn’t tell the truth about myself, but how would I begin to explain? I responded to those while waiting for Kian to answer. When he didn’t, I tried not to worry. Pretending everything was normal, I opened my lit book and actually jumped when my dad thumped on the door to let me know dinner was ready.
“Coming!”
Thankfully, my mom and dad carried the conversation, discussing some project that needed grant funding. I contributed little, conscious that my phone still hadn’t pinged or vibrated. I didn’t want to worry about Kian, considering how little I trusted him, but he was also my only ally in this mess.
“You look pensive,” my dad said.
“Just thinking about college options.” Probably I shouldn’t have used that excuse, but it was the first thing I thought of after he startled me.
“There a lot of great possibilities here in Boston,” my mom put in. “And you could live at home until you graduate, save up for your own place.”
“We can get you free tuition if you go to—”
“I know, Dad. You’ve made it clear that you’d love for me to go to BU.”
“It’s an option. Think about it.”
I finished my artichoke and escaped before he told me how lucky I was to have such a bright future ahead. That night I finished all of my homework and got ready for bed, but I never heard from Kian. With a faint sigh, I carried my phone to the window and looked out over the dark street. Lights streaked the pavement, leaving patches of darkness that seemed almost sentient. The longer I stared, the more they swelled and seethed with movement until I slammed the curtains shut with trembling hands. Fear had a hold on me when I fell asleep and the next morning, its icy fingers were still wrapped around my throat.
On the way to the station, I walked into a flutter of pigeons, and it seemed their tiny, beady eyes and flapping wings reflected purposeful intent. I must have looked like a crazy person as I ran from a flock of dirty winged rats, but I didn’t stop until I was inside the train car. As it left the station, in the space between one blink and another, I saw the thin man from last night standing on the platform, but when I stared harder, he melted before my eyes, leaving only a dark stain on the cement.
Okay, so I’m going crazy. There are probably pills for it.
At school, I was distracted enough that Colin made me stay after first period. The rest of the girls seemed disappointed that he singled me out of instead of them and I imagined they’d daydream in class tomorrow.
I tried not to show my impatience as he asked, “Is something wrong, Edie? I know I’ve only had you in class for a few days now, but you’re usually quite lively and engaged. Today, it was as if you just weren’t here.”
“I have some things on my mind,” I said.
Like where the hell is Kian? And what am I seeing? Not seeing. Whatever.
“Anything you want to talk about?” He fixed a soulful look on me, and I wondered whether he wanted girls to fall head over heels for him. Or maybe he just didn’t realize how a desperate teenager might read his interest.
“Not really. I have to get to my next class.” I hurried off without waiting for him to respond. Maybe I was looking for weirdness, but the new teacher seemed way too interested in me after just a few days in class. It was possible he was a run-of-the-mill creeper or that I was reading too much into genuine professorial concern.
“You’re so lucky,” Nicole said as we left AP Lit. “I’m planning to fail the first exam so he’ll tutor me.”
“Sounds like an excellent plan,” I answered with only a hint of irony.
I tried to pay more attention in the rest of my morning classes, if only to escape scrutiny. Jen was waiting for me at my locker before lunch, so I went with her to the cafeteria, but my plans to cause trouble were on hold in response to more pressing problems: Kian incommunicado, Wedderburn, Mawer & Graf doing God knew what, and mysterious opposition that might try to hurt me to prevent me from doing something years later. If I told anyone, I’d wind up in a mental hospital for sure.
A small voice whispered, If you don’t teach these jackasses a lesson, they’ll think they can do whatever they want to people. Put that way, it seemed more critical to move forward, not because of what they’d done to me, but due to harm they might inflict on someone who wasn’t as lucky as I’d been. So when Allison cut in ahead of Jen and me in the line, I took it as a sign. Gift horse, mouth. I’m on it.