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Authors: Lauryn April

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BOOK: A Different Kind
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CHAPTER

2

 

A
fter dressing in my workout clothes and tying my hair into a braid, I stretched in the front yard. Kitty-corner from my house, I noticed a black sedan parked in front of the Jordans’ house. I pulled my foot back, wondering if the Jordan family had bought a new car. Maybe Ryan, their son, had purchased it and was visiting from UHCL. I hoped that was the case. Ryan was a cutie. Rolling my shoulders back, I made my way next door to Jo’s.

Across the street Mrs. Reed stepped outside. She waved as she walked to her car. Her brown hair fluttered in the wind, along with the green fabric of her nursing scrubs. I politely waved back. When I saw Jo out of the corner of my eye, she was pulling her black hair into a ponytail while walking down the steps.

“Hey,” Jo called, stretching her arms behind her head. “By the way, Mom said you should come over for dinner; she’s making the casserole you like.”

“The chicken one? I’ll be there.”

“Good, I already told her you were coming.”

I smiled. Jo knew me too well. “You ready for this?” I asked.

“You wanna do the long run?”

Sometimes, I think, she enjoyed running more than cheerleading. Cheerleading had always been my passion. I’d dragged Jo with me to tryouts freshman year.

I nodded. Then we were off. Glancing over my shoulder to smooth a loose strand of hair, I saw Logan had come outside. He sat on his porch steps, staring at us. Something about the way he looked at me felt odd, but I ignored it.

The long run involved running through our subdivision, like our typical short run, but for the long run we also made our way into town. It would take us over an hour to get back home. The long run helped keep our endurance high. This was key since cheerleading practices got more intense in October as we prepared for the Homecoming game.

Knowing our run would be a long one, we took the subdivision at a nice even pace. When we turned the corner of Elm Street Jo said, “I think I’m going to cut my hair.”

My eyes snapped to her. I almost laughed. Jo had the nicest long hair, though partly I think its length was less of a style choice and more of a lack of salon visits. Still, I couldn’t imagine her cutting it.

“How short?” I asked.

“Short,” she said. “Maybe I’ll donate it to cancer kids or something.”

I laughed. If anyone else had asked me, I’d have responded with something snotty, like asking if they really thought they had the bone structure for that. But Jo rarely asked my opinion on things like this. I could tell she was looking for support. And, with her heart-shaped face, Jo did have the bone structure for a short cut.

“Go for it,” I said.

“Yeah?” she asked, seeking further reassurance.

“Yeah.”

We picked up speed when we hit the main road and didn’t slow down until we’d looped through town. As we turned onto our street, our run turned into a speedy walk. I asked Jo where she wanted to go for lunch.

“Actually, I’m going to have to cancel,” she said. There was this tenseness to her voice.

“Why? What’s up?”

“Nothing really, I’m just not going to have time today.” Jo’s vague answer caught me off guard. She’d never kept anything from me before, but suddenly I felt like she had a secret.

“Everything okay? You said you wanted to talk about something last night.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Jo said. “We’ll talk about it later, promise.” We were outside Jo’s house now. She glanced at her front door. “I gotta go though; I’ll call you later.”

Jo made her way up the steps. With a quick wave, she disappeared into her house. I stood at the edge of her driveway, wondering what was going on with her. I shook my head and convinced myself it was nothing. 

I walked across the yard to my house. Just before I reached the door, I saw Logan was still sitting on his font steps. His sharp stare inspected me. Dark brown eyes, appearing black through the lenses of his glasses, traced my form as if he were searching for something. His gaze reminded me that black eyes were something to be afraid of, but I couldn’t remember why. I squirmed beneath his gaze, went inside, and locked the door behind me.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and chugged it, then made my way upstairs. Before I showered I went to the window and drew the curtains. I was glad to see that Logan was no longer in sight. However, as I slid the window open my fingers traced an unfamiliar groove in the wood; upon further inspection, I saw there were several scratches in the window frame on both sides. A glimmer of a distant memory, bright white and glossy black, flickered through my mind. An echo of a scream sounded in one ear, then the other. I laid my hand over the four deep grooves. Then, I stared down at my fingers.

I’d broken a nail.

 

S
aturday night I went to a bonfire with Hailey, meeting up with some of the other cheerleaders.

Jo didn’t show. I was a little worried about her, but Ian had been there. He’d kept me distracted.

Ian was tall, blond, and muscular. He had blue eyes like me and was a teammate of my ex, Jared. But the idea that hanging out with Ian might piss Jared off was only a bonus. I’d had a crush on the wide receiver since running into him at a party at the end of the summer.

“You look nice,” Ian said.

I smiled. “Thank you.”

We were gathered in a clearing in Moody’s Woods, hidden from the road and passing police cruisers by the thick forest. I was standing as close to the fire as the heat would allow, watching as orange embers danced toward the tree tops. The flames licked the air, casting Ian’s face in flickering orange light.

It was obvious Ian liked me back, but I played it cool. I was making him do all the work.

“Would you like another drink?” he asked.

I nodded, handing him my red plastic cup to refill with some cheap light beer from the keg. Hailey winked at me from across the way. I smiled back with a wide, confident grin. But inside my stomach was churning, waiting for him to return. Just before he came back, I felt a strange tingling sensation behind my right ear. I scratched at it, but it didn’t go away.

Ian returned, handing me a full cup of beer. I smiled but was still distracted by the tickling itch at the edge of my hairline. Ian said something, but I missed it completely as the prickling feeling grew. Suddenly it wasn’t just a tingling, but a sharp spark of pain.

“Payton,” Ian said. I turned to him, realizing I’d zoned him out.

“What? Sorry,” I rubbed my head, but the pain only grew stronger. “I um…I’m getting a bit of a headache.”

“Sorry,” Ian said, concerned for me. “If you’re not feeling well, I could take you home. I’m not drinking tonight.”

I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to hang out and party. I wanted to stand by the fire and talk to him. Then I felt another shock. I winced as the pain spread across my skull, feeling like thousands of tiny needles.

I nodded at Ian. “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind taking me home that’d be great.”

On the ride back Ian and I passed the time with light conversation. I did my best to ignore the throbbing pain in my head, but my efforts fell short. I got out of his mother’s SUV. He smiled in a way that made my heart flutter, and even though my head ached and I felt nauseous, that fluttering was the best feeling in the world.

I chalked my headache up to the fact that I’d been drinking and crashed into bed feeling more than a little tipsy. Eventually, my head stopped hurting.

When I tried to fall asleep, however, I found I had other problems. Flashes of light filled my dreams, and this weightless sensation kept shaking me awake. I closed my eyes, feeling the tug of exhaustion pull me under, but the brightness returned. I opened my eyes to find I was still in bed – except things were different. I wasn’t wearing the t-shirt and jeans I’d crashed in, and the smell of campfire no longer lingered in the air. Instead, I wore the soft cotton night shirt I’d had on the night before.

I squinted into the light. I must have left the TV on again. My eyes adjusted. I focused on the small golden figurine that sat atop one of my cheerleading trophies. My eyes narrowed. Confusion swarmed my mind.
Did I move the trophy from the top shelf? Why hadn’t I moved it back?
The room shimmered around me as I twisted around.

All I saw was stark white. I blinked. After a moment, my eyes adjusted for the second time. The light wasn’t coming from my TV. It poured in through my bedroom window. Then I realized something else. I wasn’t lying on my bed. I was hovering three feet above it. My cheerleading trophy had never moved – I had. There was nothing but empty air below me, nothing holding me up. I was floating. A shrill scream broke past my lips.

This can’t be real
. I felt dizzy and I flailed around, trying to grab anything to pull myself back down to earth. My clammy palms grabbed one of my bed posts. I gripped it tight, but it slipped free.
No, no, no.
Frenzied gasps passed my lips. My head whipped around. A brilliant colorless light streamed through my bedroom window, and I was moving through it. I had shut the window. I had closed the blinds, but now the blinds were drawn, the window was open, and
I was floating
.

“Mom!” I yelled, my voice trembling. “Help! Mom. Dad. Help me!” My cries were louder this time. “Help!” My voice broke.

No one came to my rescue. I was alone. My heart thudded in my chest. I spun around midair. Slowly, I was sucked toward the window. I panicked, but there was nothing I could do. When I reached the window I tried grabbing onto the frame to pull myself back in. I clawed at the molding and scratched at the ledge. My nails dug into the wood, and my muscles strained as I gripped the sill.

“Please,” I said. “Please, no!”

The pull was too strong.

My grasp slipped.

The window fell out of reach.

I was hyperventilating. My arms stretched out before me, my fingers still reaching for the window. It became more distant with every tormented breath.

“Help!” I yelled. My body dangled in the air. “Someone help me!” Again my cries went unanswered.

I twisted around until I was facing the light. My body stiffened; I found myself unable to move. Completely frozen, I could do nothing but stare into the light that with every passing second grew in intensity. I was crying. Tears ran in streams down the sides of my face, but I couldn’t wipe them away.

 

 

 

CHAPTER

3

 

I
awoke, tangled in my sheets, and stared down at my turquoise comforter. I grasped it in my hands, as if it were my lifeline to reality. Even then, the terror rushed through my veins, though I was quickly forgetting why. I looked to the window. It had been open in my dream, but it was shut now, and the blinds were closed. I wore the t-shirt and jeans I’d fallen asleep in, the smell of smoke still lingered on their threads, and my head throbbed slightly. I realized I was safe in my bed, and the fear faded away. All that remained was just some silly dream where I was floating. 

I laughed and ran my hands through my hair. Still, there was something about that experience that felt more like a memory than a dream. A part of me tried to hold on to those feelings, as if they were important somehow. But I couldn’t help it. The memory turned into a fog. Within minutes of waking, I convinced myself it was nothing but a dream. After a few deep breaths I got out of bed and got ready for the day.

All day Sunday I hung out at the mall with friends. Any remaining thoughts of my nightmare had long since dissipated. Hailey wanted to scope out Homecoming dresses, but neither of us found anything we fell in love with. In fact, other than demanding Melissa tell me where she got the skirt she was wearing (which would have looked adorable on me), I didn’t see anything that I really wanted to buy.

That night, I actually had a sit-down dinner with my parents. They’d ordered from a local restaurant. Mom wasn’t exactly the Betty Crocker type. Overall it had been a fairly uneventful weekend. Still, there was something bothering me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Whatever it was, it hovered at the edge of my consciousness, which would occasionally fray, and in the corner of my eye I’d catch a glimpse of something I knew I should remember, but couldn’t.

 

M
onday I had English first hour. I was looking forward to seeing Jo. I wondered if she’d gotten her hair cut.  It was strange we hadn’t talked more over the weekend, but I didn’t really have a reason to think much of it. When I walked into class, however, I was distracted by the intense stare aimed at me from the back of the room. Logan Reed had ignored me for twelve years, but now every time I saw him, his gaze burned straight through me.
What the hell was that about?

I stood dumbly at the front of the classroom, caught in his gaze, until he looked down at his desk. As his glasses slid slightly down his nose, I took my seat beside Jo.

“What was that about?” she asked. I realized I hadn’t been the only person to notice Logan’s behavior.

“Not a clue,” I responded.

Jo shrugged, glancing back at Logan. “Seems like mister dark and mysterious has a crush on you, if you ask me.”

“Dark and mysterious? Please, Jo, try loner and weird…and creepy.”

“He’s not
weird
, he just keeps to himself,” Jo insisted. “And he’s kind of cute…in a nerdy sort of way.”

“I know you’re into the whole bookworm deal, and Paul could pull off the
glasses make me look smart
thing.” Paul was Jo’s ex. “But there’s nothing attractive about Logan and his hipster frames, and the way he’s always hovering in a corner…
staring
.” I’m sure I made some kind of face. I closed my eyes for a second and shook my head. “
Okay
, why are we talking about Logan?”

Jo stared at me for a long moment. “He really does creep you out, doesn’t he?”

I didn’t respond. I realized she was right. Logan did freak me out. For the rest of English I found myself wondering what it was about Logan that made me feel uneasy, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

The day wore on, and I continued to feel like I was forgetting something. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t think of what it was. When I got to the science room fourth period, my uneasiness was sparked in a strange way. Sitting in my usual seat at my lab station, I caught sight of something across the room that I felt unable to look away from.

Above the cabinets where the microscopes were kept was a group of taxidermy animals. Two squirrels climbed a branch, a small fox was lying down, and an owl stared straight at me. Its large dark eyes set in a white face seemed alive. Something about it absolutely terrified me. A cold sweat broke across my skin. I swallowed the knot in my throat. When I was finally able to look away, I immediately moved to the other side of the table. I couldn’t see the stuffed owl from that seat. My lab partner came in and gave me an odd look, but said nothing about my abrupt change in our seating arrangement.

Shortly after, Mr. Gregor came in and started discussing a new project he was assigning. Collectively, the class groaned as he handed out the rubric. I’d taken Astronomy because I needed another science credit. I’d been hoping it’d be an easy A class. I mean, how hard could learning about the stars and reading horoscopes be – except that was Astrology. I hadn’t realized the difference until it was too late.

“Why do stars twinkle? Why isn’t Pluto a planet anymore? Is there life on Mars?” Mr. Gregor attempted to stir up discussion. I lifted an eyebrow in amusement.

A few girls in the room giggled.

“These are among your choices for research topics, and though they may sound silly, take them seriously. Papers are due the Wednesday after Homecoming.”

I didn’t bother to look at the rubric as I slid it between the pages of my notebook. I rolled my eyes at the thought of writing a paper on space stuff. This class would have been way better if it were about horoscopes.

 

A
fter class I had practice. We were working on a new routine for the Homecoming game next month. The second I walked into the locker room, I heard Erica complaining about the extra day of practice a week. She caught sight of me and made this “oh shit” face. Then she turned away, tightening her ponytail and pretending like she hadn’t said anything. I rolled my eyes. Sometimes I think Erica forgot cheerleading was a sport. We didn’t just wear short skirts and dress up pretty for the football players to stare at. We were athletes, and the flip I was hoping to add to our routine would take some serious skill.

“So, you never told me what you did all weekend?” I asked Jo as we walked across the gym.
We were the last to leave the locker room. All the other girls were stretching when we stepped out. Jo was silent at first, and I caught her cheeks flushing, but she refused to answer. When a coy smile pulled at her lips, I knew there was only one thing that could make her grin like that.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. I stopped walking, forcing her to stop along with me.

“Oh my God, what?”

“You’re seeing someone!” Jo’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you tell me? And don’t deny it. You haven’t made
that
face since you and Paul were dating.”

“Shh, okay okay,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one else heard. “I had a date, but that’s it, and you can’t tell anyone…not yet.”

“What. No, you have to tell me everything.”

Jo shushed me again, “Payton, please, just keep quiet about this for right now.”

She was so serious it threw me. I didn’t understand why it was such a big deal, but I nodded.

“Ladies,” Mrs. Davis called. We joined the rest of the group before we were punished with extra laps.

Practice was ruthless. We stayed a full two hours after school, and by the end I was ready to collapse. It could have been my exhaustion that caused what happened next – that’s what everyone would say later. I know it wasn’t.

I stood at the top of the pyramid, my arms tight at my sides. Our chants rang though the air. One. Two. Three.
Zap
. I flinched. The pain pulsed behind my right ear, the electrical impulse snaking along my skull. My whole body jerked. I lost my balance. My team scrambled to adjust for my misstep as I started to fall. They tried to catch me. They didn’t.

I landed on the blue mat with a smack. My head hit hard. For a moment, everything flashed white. My teammates groaned, and I rolled onto my back. As I looked up, staring at the raftered gym ceiling, I let out a deep breath, then I turned my head. There, standing at the back of the gym, was Logan. He hovered in the doorway, looking straight at me. I pushed myself to my feet.

“You okay?” Hailey asked.

I looked to her. “Yeah,” I said in a huff. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

When I looked back, Logan was gone.

BOOK: A Different Kind
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