Dark Calling (3 page)

“Welcome,” she says
just above a whisper.  She doesn’t know if the guy heard her or not.  She doesn’t really care.  The next
sets of papers come
and again she g
lances at Nick as she hands
the
stack
to the kid behind her.  Again, he thanks her.

“Welcome.”

Nick turns
.  He looks at Keely.  He doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t look at her with the repulsion most people regard her with. 
His
eyes are probing.  There’s a depth to them, not the eyes of a typical teenage boy.  Not like her other class mates. 
She looks away.  Suddenly, she feels her chest tightening.  H
er breathing accelerates.  She’
s having a mini panic attack.  It’s ridiculous really.  Just because a guy looks at her. 
Not all men are him
, she reminds herself.  Her therapist voice whispers in her head,
not all men are bad
.  Keely takes a deep breath.  Passes the next stack of papers.
  The mouth breather behind her thanks her again.

“L
ook, there appears to be
quite a few papers being passed out.  You don’t have to thank me ever
y time.  Just once
is fine, really.
”  The kid just stares at her, shocked at her outburst.  Nick coughs out a laugh.

“Bitch,” the kid behind her mutters.  He then proceeds to kick her chair for the rest of class.  Thankfully home room isn’t long.  Keely shoves her belongings into her back pack and heads quickly for the door, dropping the sketch of the desk in the trash can as she leaves.

***

Keely walks slowly to her next class. 
Algebra with Mr. Steffey, also known as Mr. Stuffy
, or more often, Mr. Stiffy
.  He actually isn’t that bad, Keely knows.  He was just unlucky enough to have a last name that was so easy for teenagers to make fun of. 

The bell sounds just
as Keely comes in the room
.  Mr. Steffey is waiting to close the door.  She mumbles, “Sorry,” and takes the first desk in the first row.  There is nobody in the seats around her, her peers choosing to sit as far away from the teacher as possible.  This is how she prefers it, only now she is in the prime position for getting picked on.  An easy target with everyone behind her. 

Mr. Steffey reaches for the door
,
but is stopped by a
hand.  A boy’s
hand.
 
A breathtakingly gorgeous boy. 
He glides through the doorway and slips into the seat next to Keely
.  Pens from his back pocket fall to the floor.  Keely leans down
to retrieve them.  So does the boy
.  They almost bump heads.  His eye
s
are on her
.
  Dark eyes, nearly black.
  She sits up quick
ly, abandoning the pens for the boy
to deal with
.  She s
its very still
, careful not to look in his direction as she doodles on
the back of her notepad.

Keely
is missing
much of Mr. Steffey’s speech as to what his class will consist of and wh
at he expects from his students because she is so focused on the strange sensation overcoming her.  Like something crawling over her skin,
only this is underneath her flesh
.  She cringes and shivers.  It’s everywhere.  Her eyes prickle as she looks up,
wondering what
is wrong with her.

Mr. Steffey is staring at her
,
apparently waiting fo
r some kind of response
.  She stares back blankly.  He looks annoyed.
  This is fine with
Keely;
she knows she will no
t be impressing h
im with her math skills anyway.

“I’m sorry?”
She chokes out.  Her voice is thick, scratchy. 

“Well
that answers
m
y question
I suppose,” Mr. Stef
fey breath
e
s.  His voice is not cruel, just exasperated.  “I asked if yo
u were paying attention, Miss Ki
e
m.  You will need to know this information if you plan on passing my class.”

Kids behind her laugh.  “Freak.”

“That’s enough
.”  Mr. Steffey shoots her a sympathetic look before returning to his speech.  As soon
as the attention is off of her
the creepy fee
ling returns.  This is not good
and not just because it’s a horrible feeling, but because Keely is prone to
panic attacks.  Her breaths are
panting out of her in wheezy little puffs.  Sweat is beading across her forehead.  She squeezes her pencil—
it snaps under her grasp.  D
ecides she can’t take one more second in this room.  She attempts to get up, but her limbs are numb, the only feeli
ng
is the crawling
sensation
. 

The class room door
swings open abruptly.  Mr. Stef
fey trails off as his attention, as well as everyone else’s, is drawn to the doorway.  Nick Wallace stands there, his eyes brush over Keely before he casually strolls over and hands the teacher a note.

“O.k.  Just take a seat anywhere, Mr. Wallace.”

Keely stares at Nick with frightened eyes.  Begging eyes that she knows he couldn’t possibly understand
or care about
.  He walks past her slowly.  S
laps do
wn pens and a binder on the desk
behind her
.  His eyes are on the new boy.  He looks him over from head to toe before he sits.  His back is rigid.  The muscle in his forearm twitches as he grips the corner of his desk.

Nick touches Keely’s shoulder gently with the tips of his fingers.  “Are you all right?  You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Keely shakes her head.  It’s a stiff and jerky motion, but he under
stands.  “Do you need help
?  To the nurse
’
s office, I mean?” Nick asks quietly, his voice filled with underlying meaning.

Keely nods, one quick tip of her head. 

“I’m going to help you.  Don’t worry.”  He says this to the back of Keely’s head.  This is how the entire conversation has gone due to the fact that she is still unable to move.  She isn’t sure if part of it, or maybe all of it, is from fear.

“Excuse me, Mr. Stef
fey?” Nick calls casually, raising his hand.  “Keely is feeling a little under the weather and would like me to walk her to the nurse
’
s office.”  He isn’t waiting for pe
rmission as h
e stands and moves to Keely’s
side.  He places
her things
inside her backpack
, pausing on the broken pencil.  His eyes dart to the boy in the next desk before tossing the pieces into her bag.
Mr. Stef
fey searches her face for any sign of sickness. 
He nods and Nick pulls Keely up.  His hands are barely on her, but they are doing all the work to move her
forward.  There’
s snickering behind them.  Keely, who is holding her breath now, just ignores this.  She is
too freaked out to care what her fellow students
think of her.

As they clear the door, Nick shoots a look over his shoulder at the boy with the strangely dark eyes.  Oddly, that is the only feature Keely can remember about him.

Nick shuts the door
and walks her a little down the hallway.  The sickening sensation is wearing off now and Keely can feel her legs again. 

“I think I’m all right now,” Keely says, pulling
away f
rom him.  “Thanks.”  H
er cheeks
grow
warm
now that she can feel embarrassed
.  “So, was I really that obvious?”  She fists her trembling hands.

Nick shrugs.  “You looked a little—green.”  He studies her face for a moment.  “You’re o.k. now though?”

“Yeah.  I think so.  I don’t know what that was in there.”  She l
ooks at the ground, the toe of her shoe tracing the line on the tile.  “I was in an accident a co
uple of years ago and sometimes
I have problems.” 
Right. 
Now
it’s an accident. 
Her fingers find the scar at her throat, slide over it from habit.  Nick’s eyes focus on he
r fingers.  Realizing what she’
s doing, she drops her hand quickly.  Pulls at her hoodie.  “Well anyway, I guess I should go to the office so you can get back to class.  Thanks for your help.”  She turns and walks away as quickly as possible.

“Hey Keely?”

She stops.  Her heart thumps wil
dly in her chest
as she looks back at Nick
. 
“
Yeah
?”

“You forgot your book bag.” 
He looks
like
he’
s trying not to la
ugh as
he holds
it out with two fingers
.
He acts as if
it
weighs nothing, though Keely has carefully fit as much as she could into that backpack and is fully aware it is
extremely weighted.

Feeling embarrassed all over again, Keely walks quickly back to him.  He
ta
k
es a few steps
meeting her
,
no longer
bothering to hide it any longer as he chuckles lightly.
  He hands her the book bag, their fingers touching in the exchange.  “Uh, thanks.  Again.”
 
 

T
h
e
bell sounds above them and Nick is walking away, melting into the sea of students.

Three:

A
lthough the trip to the nurse’s office goes quickly, Keely is still late for her English class.  She
knows it’
s silly of her to take a college prep class when she isn’t sure she will be attending college, but besides art, English is h
er favorite subject.
 

She slips through the door hoping to go unnoticed.  She doesn’t.  A room full of students stare at her.  One face catches Keely’
s eye.  Nick Wallace.  He peers
at her with that same look
as before. 
Expression and expressionless at
the same time.  Depth and
indifference.
  Fervor
and
nonchalance.

Nick has already bowed his head
returning his attention
back to the paper on his desk.  Kee
ly explains quietly to Mrs. Hall
why she is tardy and is told to find a seat.  She chooses the desk f
arthest away from N
ick
and
sinks into the seat.  Mrs. Hall slides a worksheet to Keely.  “
I
want you to fill in the blanks
with the most creative adjectives you can t
hink of.  It’s just an exercise. 
I’m not grading it.” 

Keely nods in ackno
wledgement and pulls a
pencil from her bag.  She sighs as she reads the first sentenc
e.  1. The _____ boy found
a/an _____ animal on his way to the _____ school.  Keely slides her pencil smoothly across the paper.  The sentence now says: The
pulchritudinous boy foun
d a forsaken animal
on his way to the barbarous school.
  That seems about right.
 

Keely finishes the paper.  She has to reread it just to remember what she wrote. 
What is wrong with me? 

The bell says class is over.  Keely moves in a
daze.  Follows the line of students
.  Waits in the crowd around Mrs. Hall’s desk.  Sets her paper on the stac
k.  Shuffles out of the room.  She l
eans against the wall of locker
s.
Her head feels fuzzy.  She is vaguely aware of the boy
descending
the hall in her direction
.  His eyes bore into her. 
Her ears
are humming loudly. 

“I thought I wasn’t going to see you today.  Were you waiting on me?”  Bryon, one of Keely’s few friends asks from beside her.  She blinks her eyes several times. 
His trim
frame comes into focus. 

“What?  No.  Maybe.
”  She puts her hand to her face
.  Rubs her forehead.  “I just wasn’t feeling very well.”

Bryon
raises his eyebrows.  One is pierced with a barbell ring.  “You o.
k.?”  He steps closer to her.  Hesitantly p
laces a long, slender hand on her shoulder.