Connor (3 page)

The next day before first period started, I was fumbling through my locker, rummaging for nothing in particular, trying not to make eye contact with Angela as she drilled me for information like the fanatical person she can be.

When she gets like this, she talks a mile a minute; her voice goes up to just under a squeal. If she doesn't know what is going on, all is wrong with her world, and she will not let up until she pries every bit of information out of you. I most definitely see news reporter in her future.

“What happened? Where did you go yesterday? You didn't come back to class. I had to call your house last night, since you didn't pick up your cell…,” she said, staring me down.

I knew her well enough to know she was frustrated not knowing why I left, since tripping is common for me, and upset because I would not confide in her. “And your brother said you could not come to the phone, something about you being on a leash out back, so I hung up on him. You could have called. I was worried, you know.” She finished by slamming a book back into her locker next to mine.

That is so true, she worries so much. Ever since her adopted brother Vincent went missing twelve years ago, she has a habit of getting frantic when not warranted.

He was a year older than she was, and they were close. He was her big brother. His father died when he was a baby, and unfortunately, his mother was not in the picture. With no other family to go to, he ended up a ward of the state and went to an orphanage. Eventually, Angela's parents took him in right before she was born.

I was three when it happened, but I do have some memories of him since we played together. It was my first exposure to sadness how could it not stick in your head.

Angela cried so much back then, and her family took it hard. She stayed with me a lot, and that seemed to have helped us both. My parents said the police and community were involved in the search. Even Mr. Bucks, a.k.a. the boss, my dad would call him, backed the search for him for weeks, but he was never found.

My parents were overprotective of me for years after that, eventually easing up when I started protesting. Ever since then, I try to be a little understanding when Angela gets like this because she means well.

Putting my left hand halfway up, surrendering, cutting her off, and allowing her to catch her breath, I explained, “Sorry, but I was put into a boredom coma from the parentals, lecturing me on the responsibility of young adulthood and leaving school without permission and how it was not a smart thing to do.”

She waited for more information, clutching her books for dear life, but what do I say? I ran into the bathroom from pure humiliation, disappeared, literally, then ran out to find another kid who could possibly do the same thing. I don't think so.

I felt bad I couldn't tell her, but I have no desire to go to the funny farm. I heard most of them don't bathe, and that is nasty. I made up some barely believable story of running out due to dirty wet clothes.

Besides, I do not want to give her more to worry about. I don't think she ate it, but she let it go when she realized I wasn't going to elaborate. That or the first bell stopped her next question.

As I walked off, I could feel her eyes digging into me and hear the wheels turning in that brain of hers, and that was not good.

I sat next to Hope in math class in first period like usual. Hope was my other best friend my age. She is cute as a button, with the biggest darkest eyes, soft, shiny, bouncy reddish-brown hair, and about Angie's height. She is what her family calls Creole and has exactly five freckles on her nose. Her family comes from New Orleans, so she grew up speaking fluent French, or a version of it. She is the nicest person you would ever want to meet. She is incredibly passive to the point where she makes it easy for people pick on her. That is where Angie and I come in.

Five years ago, we stepped in when some girls were harassing her because her family doesn't have a lot of money. They were teasing her about her clothes and the fact that she lived on the outskirts of town. Now we're known as the
tres amigas
, well, to us anyway. That and with the help of Angela's mom, who sews her clothes to help financially, she had more confidence. She discovered her own style, hippie bohemian, but she can rock some cool jeans too. Her boyfriend situation is another story.

I was jolted back to present day when I heard her say something about me glowing, so it must be a boy. “Whatever,” I said, and added most of the boys from this school are way too immature for me. My goal is to go to school in Paris and do as the French do. She agreed, and we laughed at each other.

I didn't mention that after Paris, I would somehow become a part of a secret space organization and fly my own spaceship that they will name after me one day. I felt the need to leave that part out and to keep that to myself.

Our teacher purposely put a halt to our good mood by handing out a pop quiz. Great.

After fourth period ended, Hope spotted some strange boy behind us as we headed to the grand cafe, a.k.a. the lunchroom. “I think he has been following us since last class,” she said, not being slick about it at all by literally pointing him out.

Grabbing her hand and pushing it down, I turned around and saw a kid I have never seen before. His hair was greasy, and he wore all black with holes in his pants, the kind of holes that were not on purpose but from wear and tear. He was staring right at me, and from the expression on his face, he didn't seem thrilled to see me, but I didn't know him. I don't know why, but I had a funny feeling about him.

Hope covered her mouth with her book, laughing at me. “Is that your new boyfriend, Connor?”

“What new boyfriend, and why didn't I hear about this sooner?” Angela asked, coming up from behind. Hope filled her in, all while giggling at my expense. Great, something else Angela will grill me on.

“Um, he is gross, and I don't have a boyfriend.” We made it to the lunchroom finally, and I was grateful for the noise distraction since they found it necessary to hound me about him all the way here.

Lunch was the same as always; the jocks sat with the evil cheerleaders. My sis is dead center, sitting next to her boyfriend Robert. I would never admit to her how hot he is.

After school, he works at his dad's law firm to prep him for the bar when he graduates law school. I hate to break it to his dad, but Robert is not “the brightest bulb in the pack.”

He has always needed a tutor, and that's how Ebony and Robert met. She started tutoring him in seventh grade on three classes, hence her popularity and not since birth, as she would have you believe. She was actually human before cheer and didn't care so much about how she looked or if she fit in with the “in crowd.”

He does seem to care for my sister, I have to admit, and her for him. They are always together and seem to have fun. Hey, it is a cohesive relationship. Whatever works, right?

Robert's family worships the ground Ebony walks on because she has taken him far, and they know it. All I am saying is his dad needs to lower his educational expectations.

Walking by the jock table, she gave me the stink eye when I attempted to wave, so I politely made her “read between the lines.” I swear my mom drank blood when she was pregnant with her. I am just waiting on the devil to come claim his evil spawn when the time is right.

Passing the table, someone yelled, “Help, Superman,” and I swore Ebony punched him, but I pretended I didn't see it and kept walking.

Then there are the nerds/geeks, which covers chess, the science club, math club, and LARP (live action role-play). Even though I love science fiction, I wouldn't dress up and run around in a costume, just pajamas in the middle of the night, oh and Halloween, my most favorite holiday.

Some of them are actually cool, like Angela's boyfriend, Bobby, and yes, that is his real name, not Robert, who doesn't dress up, but there is the other half who knows how smart they are and turn their nose up at you.

Barnabus, the freckled redheaded kid who wants to take over the world, is the rudest individual that roams the earth. He feels the need to tell you just how inferior you are to him. Just about after every math and science class, he gets beat up or locker bound because he expresses his annoyance of us mere humans' retarded intelligence, and yet he runs around in costumes playing live games. Some nerve.

The Victims of Eternal Richness dress in black, brand name only, and act like their lives are so hard because their parents are so disgustingly filthy rich, they must suffer for it. Give me a break.

The ringleader we call Cricket because she chirp-chips all the time about nothing and does the most complaining. They either sleep around or threaten suicide, which no one has attempted that I know of, and thank goodness for that. The problem, as I see it, is that their parents are out making so much money, they feel neglected at home, so they come to school craving attention. See, I pay attention in psychology. I say quit complaining and tell it to a therapist one day like the rest of us.

The Individuals sit outside; this includes the skateboarders, extremist, artists, and musicians. No one really pays them too much attention because they'd rather do their own thing. They sit around playing guitar with wool hats on, even in warm weather, while performing some death-defying stunt. I have to admit they are good. It is as if they have no fear.

There is this kid named Bradley but whom we call Cannon because he is so fast on the long board. It is as if he is shoots right out of one.

I peered out the window to watch and, for the first time, noticed Tony. He was doing a long board stunt right off the side railing. Wow, he was good. His nicely sculpted muscles were showing under his muscle shirt. I was staring so hard, I hadn't realized he was staring back at me. I released my bag from my death grip, nodded at him with a half grin, and walked off to catch up with the others.

I glanced back to find him still staring at me while tossing his board in the air. I hurriedly turned away and cut the line for lunch. I got a couple of catcalls but didn't care until someone said, “Let Superman through, she needs fuel for her next save.” Will I ever live that down?

I sat with my usual crew, the “Can't wait to get out of this town” group. My group consisted of about eight of us who discussed plans for the future, like where we would live and what we would do. As we were making plans for the near future like this weekend, I thought about Tony's invite this Friday night. I told them I have a family obligation that I couldn't ditch. They accepted it and quickly changed the subject.

Friday finally came, and I couldn't be more anxious or obnoxious. Concentrating in school was not an option at all, so breezing by today was my game plan. Unfortunately for me, all of my teachers must have known about my well-laid plan and banded together to abolish it.

Each one of them called on me for answers to questions that I had not heard them ask in the first place. I had to keep asking them to repeat themselves, and like the last teacher before them, the repeated question came with a stern look. It was cruel and torturous.

My friends kept asking me all day what was wrong. I just blew them off and told them I must be getting sick or something. I even coughed a couple of times for sympathy's sake, no-go. Angela kept eyeing me because my behavior was off. Okay, so I seriously need to work on my acting skills. Got it.

Later on at home, everyone, except Miss Cheer Cult Queen Ebony, was in the den when my parents asked me if everything was okay since I didn't have plans to go out.

I told them that it is not as if going out is that important. “There are times I like being close to home,” I added, hoping they would appreciate that last bit.

That too was a no-go, so after a dramatic pause filled with blank stares and chirping crickets, I told them my plans were actually tentative. My parents gave each other a look, then looked back at me. My mom felt the need to give me a hug; for what, I do not know. Maybe it's a mom thing.

Kane chimed in as usual and added, “Oh, I know. It's a full moon tonight, so she has to lock herself up in the basement before she turns all hairy and monster like.” At least he called me a she and not an it.

He really needs to stop watching my scary movie collection. Actually, that is my fault. I used to make him watch them with me when I babysat him.

I told them a nap sounds good right about now. Not really, but I wanted to break out and get away from the “I have two heads” stares. Is it so strange that a teenager wants to stay home on a Friday night to be with her parents and younger brother? Who am I kidding? Yes, it is.

In my room, I must have watched the clock a thousand times, debating going or not. All day, even in school, I kept coming up with excuses not to go. So far, I came up with “maybe this occurred because I was in some freak accident my parents never told me about” or “my mom had to have taken some drugs when she was pregnant with me.”

My mind was in a world of its own wondering about what-ifs. I couldn't stop myself. I concluded that I was crazy and hallucinated all of this. That had to be it, right?

If that is the case, I definitely didn't want to go. I will just stay here and vegetate. I will tell Tony I don't want to get involved, if there even is a Tony. Let's face it, I have only spoken to him when no one else was around, and why was this week the first time I noticed him at school? I'm telling you, I'm nuts, as I sit here talking to myself. Ugh!

A nap was attempted but failed, so I lay across my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Some time had passed, and it was dark out because the stars on my ceiling were glowing along with my glow-in-the-dark spaceship. I was still anxious and unable to focus on anything else, now frustrated because I couldn't think of anything else.

That was it. I needed to know what was going on with me or if I was just plain crazy. I wondered if there were some other kids at school involved. Well, I guess there is only one way to find out. I jumped up, changed into comfortable clothing, and off I went.

Checking the clock that said eleven thirty, I hurried up. My parents were in bed by now, and Reptile Boy was fast asleep. Ebony had come in earlier just long enough to change and head back out for her date. I can expect her to sneak in later.

I told my parents that I decided to go out after all and that Angela would be picking me up. I will wait outside for her, so she won't have to ring the bell, waking Kane up.

Half dazed, my mom said okay, not realizing how late it is. They don't like me leaving the house after ten o'clock at night for whatever reason. I can be out past ten, but they feel anything worth doing should start before then.

I quietly walked down the stairs, not wanting to wake my mom up so she could think to ask any questions. As soon as I shut the door, I set off down the block. I only have a permit, so I couldn't ask to borrow the car yet. It was about a twenty-minute walk, so I hurried along to get there on time.

We live in a safe town, so I can walk without worrying about some creepy person in a mask coming after me. Then again, I am surprisingly strong for a girl; as my dad always used to say, I'm manly strong. How unflattering is that?

The one time Ebony and I fought was the last. It was a year ago, over something stupid. I was tired of her telling me what to do, so I pushed her when she got in my face. That turned into a push fest until I flung her into the laundry room pantry from the hallway. I don't even know how I did it.

To hear her tell it, I picked her up over my head like some She-Ra, swung her around several times, and hurled her twenty feet, then stood over her growling. She screamed like a wild animal, acting as if someone was murdering her. I never told anyone, but I even scared myself a little.

My dad could not stop laughing after Mom checked on Ebony, who was fine but needed to play it up. He teased me about it and told me I should take up cage fighting. On the other hand, my mom was not too happy with me and had me tested for drugs; she seriously did.

I chucked it up saying my adrenaline kicked in after years of pent-up frustration, and that is what the doctor said when the test results came back clean. So see, I can take care of myself.

Tonight, like any other night, it was typically peaceful other than a dog barking at who knows what and the trees rustling from the wind. The temperature was perfect, and the breeze felt nice across my face. It must have been in the sixties tonight, so my zip up was perfect.

I could smell the water from my house, so the tide was high. The air outside smelled like a strange combination of salty seaweed and damp earth blowing over from the ocean. I love the smell of the ocean. I don't know why people complain about it. Wherever I move, it has to be by water.

I heard an unfamiliar sound so I stopped walking. Not anything alarming, but it alerted me to how quiet it had become. Dogs were no longer barking, and the wind no longer blew, how strange. I stood still for a moment waiting for it, then the noise stirred again, and even though it wasn't an alarming sound, I couldn't place what it was. The hairs on my neck stood straight up, and my ears were ringing from the silence.

I sensed someone close, so my eyes scanned the area, searching for movement, but saw nothing. How typical, a girl walks alone at night, hears footsteps, then goes missing. Maybe I need to stop watching scary movies too. Nah. I stayed there for a minute longer listening, just to be sure, then shook it off.

The dogs started up again, and who can stop the wind? I'm losing it—it's got to be my nerves acting up over tonight. I walked on, stargazing. The stars were out shining bright, smiling down on me. Oh, how I wish to be up there one day in my spaceship called the
Connor
. I laughed at myself, as my mind wondered about the adventures I would have. I'm going to pretend I didn't just think that.

I made it to the school in record time but realized I had no clue where we were going to meet. “No spaceship pajamas tonight,” I heard Tony say, approaching from behind me out of nowhere.

I spun around. “Ha-ha, funny, and they were Star…

I mean, those weren't mine,” I lied.

“Are you sure? Because they sure seemed like your size,” he asked with a smile the size of Texas on his face. He had on baggy jeans, a plain black shirt that hugged his chest just right, and the latest pair of footwear. He looked nice.

I had to laugh. “Anyway, why do you keep popping up? Were you following me tonight?” I asked.

“Don't you wish? I was headed this way too. Remember, I invited you? I forgot to tell you where we were meeting. Besides it's difficult to get to, so I would have to take you anyway. Glad you thought long and hard about it and came,” he said with a smirk on his face. I told him just what he could do with that smirk. He laughed and said, “This way please.” He was holding out his arm with his hands tucked in his jeans pockets, so I obliged.

We headed toward the back of the school, past the football field and the outside basketball court while trying to follow along the track. We were trying to avoid the wet grass as long as possible. I don't recall it raining earlier, so I'm guessing it was wet from the sprinklers.

It was a little eerie late at night with just the two of us, being so used to this placed filled with people talking, laughing and bells that could wake the dead. We barely spoke as we hurried along; it was already midnight.

We headed toward a part of the school that was not attached to the main building. It sat tucked away in the back, so I had never really paid it much attention. They, meaning Mr. Johnston, warned us students to stay away since it contained dangerous machinery, so I did. Especially knowing how clumsy I am and having gotten used to all my limbs, I would like them to stay just where they are, thank you very much.

Tony, now directly in front of me, was leading the way. There were no more tracks to use, so we cut across the grass, dodging any lights, just in case anyone was around. Reaching the building, it was maybe fifty feet wide and appeared to be made of metal. It looked old, a little rusty, and practically surrounded by vines with little red flowers on them that smelled sweet.

In front of the door, Tony handed me a flashlight and told me to turn it on. His was in hand, ready to go. The door creaked a little upon opening but didn't provide any resistance.

Once inside, I looked around, only to be a little disappointed to discover it was just the boiler room, not heavy machinery or something a little more exciting. I figured we would find a workshop for Santa's elves or something like that since the threat of expulsion hung over our heads if caught in here.

“Mr. Johnston never remembers to lock the door, but just to play it safe, I leave a piece of tape over the lock,” Tony said, pointing to the tape over the latch. “I replace it every time we have a meeting to make sure we will be able to get in.”

Half listening to him, I scanned the room with my flashlight as Tony closed the door. It was bigger inside than I expected. The vines covered a lot. There was plywood and other green machines inside, nothing interesting at all.

I just nodded as reality set in. I couldn't believe I'm doing this. My bravado was starting to fade quickly. We didn't make a sound inside crossing to the other side of the room except when I squealed like a little girl as a mouse ran past my foot.

He glanced over at me.

I cut him a look as if to say, “Sorry, but they are nasty and carry germs.”

We stopped at a bright orange door with a chain and padlock on it. He pulled out a key chain with some keys on it, of course, unlocked the padlock and removed the chain, then unlocked the orange door. He tapped on the door 2-3- 2 like some secret knock, then opened it up. He explained, “That is our code, so when they hear someone coming, they know it is one of us. Don't ask how I got these keys. Trust me, you don't want to know.”

Who is this kid sticky fingers Houdini? I was concerned yet excited at that same time, but all I said was “Good idea,” in regards to the knock.

We walked down the longest flight of stairs ever. Okay, maybe it was about ten steps, but the hairs on the back of my neck were on end again. Once we reached the bottom step, I said, “I'm stopping right here.” This was starting to freak me out.

“You've come too far to stop now. Just a little ways more, it's okay, Sci-fi, no one is going to hurt you,” he said, puzzled.

“That's not my name, and I'm not scared, just using a little common sense,” I said, standing there with my arms folded. I wanted to tuck tail and run right out of there. That may make me a coward, but at least I will be a live coward. I should have thought this through. I may be walking to my death.

He grabbed my arms while they were still folded and said, “Don't take this the wrong way, but if you used any common sense, then you wouldn't have met a guy you hardly knew, here, at midnight, and followed him this far. I think curiosity had more of a role to play.”

“You may be right, but Mr. Common Sense just came knocking. Where are we going?” I pulled back from him, getting the chills not from any draft, but from sheer nerves.

“Just bear with me a little longer. I promise there is nothing to fear. Most of your questions will be answered soon enough, please,” he said, almost begging me. His eyes were pleading with me as he extended his hand.

Listening to my gut, which said go, and ignoring my head, which said no, I reluctantly took his hand.

He took a deep long breath of relief and said, “You won't regret this. I promise.”

I thought,
Connor, if you get yourself killed, you're going be in serious trouble
; It was something my mom would say ever since I was young. It never made any sense, but I guess it's a mom thing.

After the stairs, we turned left and walked down this dim tunnel lit by wall-mounted candles. The ground and walls looked like they were made of tightly packed mud and some other ingredients to hold it together. It smelled earthy down here. There is just no other way to describe it. It was not unbearable, but apparent.

I had always heard there were tunnels down here, but like most schools, you think they are all tales. Supposedly, it was an underground hideout for slaves to remain until it was safe for them to travel again. Go figure. You do learn a thing or two in school when you listen.

I asked him, “How do you know about this place or find it?”

“After meeting the others and needing a place to go where we could be safe to practice and not be heard, I remembered from history class that there were supposedly tunnels under our school. I know the teachers told us they were sealed, but I thought, why not check into it anyway. I went down to city hall and did my investigation, only to find out there were plans years ago to seal the tunnels, but it was stopped when this property was bought for the building of our school. They also had the blueprints of the grounds and the tunnels.”