A Whisper To A Scream (5 page)

“You’re going to work the field with me
tomorrow.”

“Fine.” Working one day in the field is
totally worth breaking Katie Halston’s nose. A million times
over.

****

The next morning, I’m pulled out of my deep
sleep by the lights flickering on and off. I groan and roll over
yanking my comforter up over my head.

Mom’s footsteps thud against the carpet. “I
don’t think so. Time to wake up.”

She rips my comforter off me.

I shiver and rub warmth into my arms. Then I
focus on the alarm clock. “Mom,” I whine. “It’s only
five-fifteen!”

“We have a lot of work to do,” she tells me
and walks out my door.

My legs dangle off the side of my leg. I’m
not fully awake. And I’m tempted to pick my comforter up off the
floor and go back to sleep. Mom knows this because she knows me too
well. She pokes her head through my open doorway. “Hurry up. Don’t
stall. You’re not getting out of this.”

“I’m coming,” I grumble.

After getting dressed in my ratty farm
clothes, a pair of worn out overalls, a sweatshirt with stains, and
sneakers with the soles coming off in places, I sulk into the
kitchen and make myself a bowl of instant oatmeal. Standing in
front of the sink, I glance out the window. The sun hasn’t even
come up yet. I don’t know how Mom expects me to work in the
dark.

I finish my oatmeal and toss my bowl in the
sink. Then I yank the window open. Cold air wafts in, whirls around
the kitchen and stings my cheeks. I close the window, sigh, grab my
jacket, and walk outside.

Mom pushes a wheel barrel filled with hay
toward me. She sets it down. “Spread the hay out along the soybean
field,” she instructs. “When you run out of hay. I’ve already
brought up some more.” She points over her shoulder to a massive
pile.

Scanning her up and down, noticing she’s
still in her pajamas I narrow my eyes. “Where are you going to
be?”

A devilish grin. “Inside. Having my
coffee.”

My mouth drops open. “You said we had a lot
of work to do!”

She rests her fingers against her chin. “Did
I?” Mom drops her hands and places them on her hips. “Well, what I
meant is
you
have a lot of work to do.”

“This isn’t fair!” I protest.

“Life isn’t fair, Ellory. Maybe you’ll think
twice about what you did.”

No I won’t. I’d punch that bitch in the face
again in second.

Mom claps her hands and walks inside. “Get
going.”

I scowl and watch her slam the garage door.
This freakin sucks.

The wheel barrel squeaks as I push it to the
front yard. It’s heavy and twice while I push it, the contents
almost spill out all over the ground. It’s almost 6:30 in the
morning and the sun is just beginning to peak over the horizon,
turning the sky from a deep blue to and pink and violet
combination. I’m distracted by its beauty.

Mom shouts out the window. “Ellory!”

I look over my shoulder, pick up some hay,
and throw it down forcefully.

She closes the window and I begin moving down
the first row of soybeans.

Music blasting from a car stereo reaches me
and I lift my head, watching as Adam drives his yellow Camaro down
the road.

I scoop up another handful of hay and flick
him off. I hope he sees me.

An hour passes. Then two. Before I know it, I
realize it’s almost dinnertime. Sweat pours down my face. Wisps of
hair are matted to my cheeks. I’m covered from head to toe in filth
and I know for a fact that I smell like B.O.

I wipe my forehead with my arm and stifle a
look around the field. Pride swells inside of me. I never thought
I’d be able to finish this job. And I laugh to myself because I’m
so proud.

Scurrying to the garage, I set the wheel
barrel down. For the first time ever, I think I’d rather be in
school. Then I wish that I was joking about that, but sadly, I’m
not.

Chapter 4: Welcome

Adam was a devious creature and often thought
of himself that way because he was a hollowed-out shell of what a
human was supposed to be. The shell of a Jordan almond without the
nut inside. So far his acting abilities had been able to fool the
students of Logan High, but Adam was certain his façade wouldn’t
last long. No. He knew the façade wouldn’t last long.

He drove down the long country road, music
blasting from his stereo, surrounded by vast plains of dirt and
green fields. Adam had only been in Burton for three weeks and he
already despised the place. In a town this small, there was nowhere
to run. Nowhere to hide.

Stepping on the gas pedal, his eyes widened
as the speedometer climbed past fifty mile mark. Then fifty-five.
Next sixty. He felt a thrill, a rush of adrenaline. The rush wasn’t
the same kind of rush he felt when he saw blood, but it would have
to suffice for now.

The first house for at least a mile came into
view. A long red brick ranch. Some kind of crop grew in the front
yard. He glanced out his passenger side window, narrowing his eyes
as a girl standing in the middle of the yard flipped him the bird.
He smiled, amused. The girl had wild, ringlets of brown surrounding
her face and he remembered her from school yesterday.

She’d gawked at him in the school parking
lot. Adam couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something
different about the girl that intrigued him.

Normally, he was excellent at reading people.
Like a human lie detector, but this girl wasn’t giving him a clear
signal. During that moment in the parking lot, he’d nodded at her
politely, and she seemed to be idealizing him like several of the
other girls he’d come across on his first day at Logan High. After
witnessing her crude gesture he was beginning to wonder if she
thought the opposite and that fascinated him.

He thought back to his conversation with
Megan White when she’d come up behind him and that moron Blake
while they were talking in front of his car.

Adam had peeked over his shoulder at the
girl, and then faced Megan. “Who’s that girl?” he’d inquired.

Megan’s vocal chords had quivered. “Who are
you talking about?”

Adam nodded in the girl’s direction. “The
girl standing in the middle of the parking lot.”

Megan laughed. Inside, Adam’s stomach
lurched. The sound of Megan’s laugh made him sick. “Oh that’s
Ellory Graham.”

Adam snuck in another peek over his shoulder.
“Is there something wrong with her? She’s been standing there for
the last five minutes.”

Megan threw her head back. “Yeah, lots of
things. That girl is a train wreck.”

Adam tuned Megan out when she said something
else, but he pretended to find whatever she said hilarious.

This girl Ellory was interesting and Adam
intended to find out more about her.

Chapter 5: Small Town Life

Thanks to Wren, I arrive at school early for
the first time in months. After a brief trip to my locker, I enter
my first period English Lit class, slide into my desk with a quirky
grin, and let out an elated sigh.

Wren walks in and looks at me puzzled. “I
don’t know what’s with you today. The Ellory Graham I know would
never be excited to be in school.”

“The Ellory Graham you know spent eleven
hours in a field yesterday, farming. School is like heaven compared
to that,” I fire back.

“That sucks that Mr. Anderson called your
mom.”

“I kind of had a feeling he would.” No I
didn’t. I’d hoped that he wouldn’t. But, unfortunately for me,
nothing ever goes my way.

Wren’s eyes shift toward the door and I
follow her gaze. Katie eyes the room warily then walks in. She
takes small cautious steps and turns her body, like I have some
rare infectious disease as she breezes past me. “Hey Katie!” I get
her attention. “Love the make-over. Black and blue looks good on
you.”

Katie drops her head and mutters, “Shut up.”
Then she plops down in her seat.

Students whisper amongst each other. The
sound of the pencil sharpener grinds and hums, shaving away bits
and pieces of wood. Paper rustles as everyone flips through pages
of their notes. Footsteps thud and echo and I spin around dreading
the expected arrival of Mrs. Winkle. But that’s not who’s standing
in the door.

An enticing scent creeps up my nostrils. I’m
shrouded by a haze of Aqua di Gio bliss and I don’t mind drowning
in it for a while. Adam stifles a look around the room.

I’m staring at him. At his blue-green eyes.
His long dark lashes. His profound clenched jawline. I’ve never
seen a boy that looks like him. He’s beautiful.

I catch myself staring. He probably thinks
I’m a creeper.

Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.

Dropping my gaze, my eyes burn into the empty
desk next to my left.

Do not sit there. Do not sit there.

He sits there.

Turning away, I inhale him again. His smell
is intoxicating and overwhelming and I have to talk myself out of
planting my nose on his shirt to inhale him further.

Then he speaks to me. “Do you have a pen I
can borrow?”

His voice is deep, yet eloquent. I replay his
question over and over again in my mind before I get a hold of
myself. What am I thinking? I don’t even like this kid. After
pulling out my supplies I keep my vision glued to the chalkboard.
“No,” I tell him.

He’s shocked. “What?”

“I said no. Would you like me to repeat it?
No.”

Adam’s eyes study my face and then he glares
at my desk. “But you have two on your desk,” he says, a hike of
curiosity in his tone.

I snatch the pens and hold them. “So they’re
mine.”

If this guy is as big of a genius as Wren
says he is, don’t you think he’d remember to bring his own supplies
to class?

A loud shuffling catches my attention and
Adam and I turn in unison as Katie frantically digs through her
purse. She whips out a pen and holds it up like its Excalibur and
she’s just plucked from the rock. “I have one, Adam,” she gushes.
“I have a pen.”

I face Adam as he rises from the desk. “I
wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” I tell him. “Unless you have a
hankering for herpes.”

Adam scowls at me and strolls toward Katie.
“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Katie says with a smile.

He takes the pen and returns to his seat. He
doesn’t look at me, but he mumbles, “That was rude.”

“You don’t know me. Rude is my middle name.”
Well, technically it’s Louise, but that is beside the point.

Seconds later Mrs. Winkle waddles through the
door, kicks it closed, and orders, “Turn to page 162.”

Oh man. She’s in one of her moods. Apparently
they are running out of ice water in hell.

Every part of me that was excited to be back
here instead of farming fades. I change my mind and decide that
doing chores for my mother is a hell of a lot better than staring
at Mrs. Winkle’s crinkly face for an hour. Yeah, this class is
going to suck.

At the end of class, I wait for Wren by the
door. Adam brushes by me and accidentally nudges me in the
shoulder.

“Hey!” I shout. “Watch where you’re
going!”

He freezes and his back tenses. Then he
pivots slowly and strolls over to me. He leans close and inch away
from my ear. Part of me feels violated. Yet at the same time all I
want is to listen to the sound of his deep, masculine voice. “Next
time you flick me off,” he says coolly. “You better make sure I
don’t see you.”

A weird noise leaves my throat and I’m
standing there watching him walk away. My jaw almost touches the
floor. The irony of it all is that I wanted him to see me. I just
didn’t expect him to.

Wren joins me at my side and gives me a
disapproving nod. “You sure know how to make a good
impression.”

“I know how to make an impression. Not
necessarily a good one,” I say sarcastically.

Wren maneuvers through the students in the
hall and I follow her. She stops in front of her locker to unload
and reload her supplies.

I lean against the pewter locker next to hers
and sigh. The cold metal seeps through my flimsy t-shirt and I
shiver. I hate being cold. During the warm months, placing my bare
skin on the metal cools me off. During fall and winter, it’s like
having your tongue stuck—frozen to an ice cube.

She stacks three books in a pile. “You going
to the game tonight?”

“Ah, I don’t know.”

She picks up the books and wraps her arms
around them, hugging them. “You always like going to football
games.”

That’s because for most of them I show up
tanked. It’s kinda hard to distinguish fantasy from reality when
you’ve had too much Kahlua and hot chocolate. “I just don’t feel
like it today.”

“There’s a party afterwards.”

We step away from her locker and walk down
the hall.

I perk up. “A party. Where?”

“The new kid’s house.”

Bummer. “Then I’m not going.”

“Are you serious?” she asks, whining. “Please
go. I’m going. And you know I never go out.”

“Is Molly going?”

“Everyone is going.”

“Wren, I loathe the kid.”

She stops mid-step and clutches my hand.
“Please, Ells. You know I’d go if the situation was reversed.”

I exhale. “All right. I’ll go.”

Wren beams and lets go of my hand. “Yay. I’m
so excited.”

“But I’m not staying the whole time if I
don’t want to,” I say, a serious look on my face.

“I won’t hold you to anything I promise.”

She walks forward and I stay in my spot.
“This is going to be so fun!” she shouts, gleefully. Then she
slides to the right and disappears from my view.

I don’t know if fun is the right word, but
it’s definitely going to be interesting.

****

Detention starts at 2:45 and lasts until
3:15. Parading into the classroom, I take a seat in the back. I
already know the routine. Write ‘I will behave in class’ as many
times as you can before the thirty minutes is up.