August 25, 2014
I wasn’t outside for that long, but the heat was starting to get to me. Well, not me exactly, but my makeup.
This line needs to move faster.
Those upperclassmen had it easy. They could just walk right into the school and chill wherever they wanted, hanging out until classes would start.
But, for us freshmen? We were stuck waiting in a line to get our schedules for the semester.
Around a hundred teenagers, filled to the brim with nervous energy, worried over the next four years in high school, and we were forced to keep still, and stand in a line.
It was hardly fun.
The line was so long that it snaked, going out of the doors of the school gym, wrapping around the building. Scratch that, the line led into the smaller of the school’s two gyms, meaning there were more people in a smaller space, making the line go slower, meaning I had to stand out for even longer and…
This is so freaking lame.
A minute passed, with everyone only collectively moving about half a foot. I wasn’t that far back, but I still wanted to be inside rather than out here. It was still summer, and summer here meant that it was several degrees hotter than hot. Like… something that was really hot.
Like a really hot boy, whatever.
The point was that the heat would end up ruining my outfit that I had meticulously planned out the night before, and the bit of makeup I applied. Not enough so that Mom would notice, but, with the amount I applied, maybe I’d look a little bit more mature than I usually did. I was sick and tired of always being mistaken for a little kid, I wasn’t that small.
I was in high school now, high school, I was more than ready to start growing up a little, doing grown up stuff.
If this line would only move faster.
We all shuffled our feet forward, and I finally saw the doors when I went around the corner. Still a ways to go, but complaining wasn’t going to make us move faster.
I checked behind me, to see how people were doing in the back. The line was getting longer, and I saw some other freshmen walking back and forth down the length of the line, trying to find anyone they were comfortable cutting in line to meet with. Some were successful, others resigned to going all the way back. No one really cared either way, it wasn’t like we were lining up to get concert tickets or anything.
I wasn’t one of the successful ones, even though I thought I came early. I didn’t see any of my friends from middle school, even Katy was nowhere to be found.
So, here I was, stuck. In between some people I didn’t know.
Speaking of Katy…
I pulled out my phone, and went to check my different social media feeds. The phone connected to the school’s internet with ease. Yeah, we were at school, but I wasn’t in the building, and the day hadn’t started yet, no one should raise a fuss over it.
A few new notifications, so I checked them. I tapped to like some pictures, reblogged some funny posts and status updates. A decent way to pass the time, certainly better than standing around and doing nothing.
No text back from Katy. I was beginning to wonder if she’d end up missing the first day of school. The first day of high school, no less.
That would be like… super duper bad.
I seized up when something slapped me in the shoulder blade. My fingers tightened around my phone, holding for dear life. I put a foot out to prevent myself from bumping into the person ahead.
A lame sound just squeaked out of me.
I caught myself, but the girl ahead of me was already staring back, eyebrow raised.
I, in turn, squared my shoulders and glared at the person responsible. But the act didn’t last long when I saw who was responsible.
“Katy!” I exclaimed excitedly.
Katy grinned, her lips vulpine. She put one hand on her hip, and slung her arm over my shoulder, in a sort of half-hug. I returned the favor, greeting her how girls did.
“Oh my gosh, how are you?” I asked as we broke the hug. As we split, Katy kept herself close to me. Sneaky sneaky.
“Ça va bien,” Katy responded, “Et toi ?”
I puffed my cheeks in a pout. “No fair, I’m taking Spanish this year, not French.”
“Je suis désolé– I mean, sorry, but I’m still a little jetlagged from the trip. My brain’s still in ‘France mode.’”
I drew out the sound. “Aw, I’m so jealous, I wish I could go to places like that. Was it fun?”
“It was super fun, we went sightseeing and saw all the ‘touristy’ places, but, get this, because my mom spends so much time over there, we were granted like the best access. Even the museums were awesome. Tell me, who else gets to see the Mona Lisa up close and personal, with no crowd in sight?”
My jaw dropped. “Get out of here, that sounds so dope!”
“I know right?”
“Can you tell your parents to adopt me already?”
“Depends if we have enough room in our place. You might end up staying with Annie.”
“Worth, if it means you taking me on trips to France.”
“By that point, the only place I’m taking you is the backyard.”
I stuck my tongue out at her, and lightly smacked her on the arm. The line moved a smidge more.
As we moved, my eyes caught the black straps across Katy’s shoulders.
“Whoa, cute bag,” I said, “Looks expensive.”
She turned so her back was facing me, showing off her bag. All black, small. Petite, rather. A gold letter ‘G’ across the front.
“That’s because it is,” Katy said. She spun around to show off the rest of her outfit. An oversized white shirt, tight white denim jeans, and black boots that almost reached her knees.
She continued, “Got it while I was over there. All designer, by P-”
I stopped her. “If another French word comes out of that mouth, I’m tearing your tongue out and throwing it as far as I can.”
Katy made a face, playfully shocked. “Ever so violent, Lexi. Good to know your temper hasn’t… tempered.”
“Well, then, don’t push me that far,” I said, making sure to lay on the sarcasm as thick as possible, to the point of overcompensating. “I actually tried to make myself look good for the first day of high school. Unlike you.”
“Whatever do you mean? You look good,” Katy said, and I could tell she was telling the truth. “I look good.”
“Yeah, but not all of us have fancy clothes we can just randomly pick out and automatically kill it. Some of us, you know, have to make do with what we have.”
I glanced down at my clothes, but I tried not to look down on them. Converse shoes, classic black, the white laces even brighter in the sun. Denim shorts, lightly ripped. A white shirt, long enough to tuck in the front. And a black, light fabric long sleeve on top of that, a flower pattern going across the whole thing.
My backpack wasn’t designer. Just a regular backpack you’d see anywhere.
Most of this stuff was taken from the bargain bins of different stores, pieced together over the summer, when my allowance could afford it. I didn’t look down on them, no, putting these articles together actually made a good outfit.
But Katy’s was better.
Katy gave me another look. “Stop beating yourself up like that, it’s not healthy. Listen, we’re both hot, so let’s make these next four years rock.”
I had to force a grin. “Nice half-rhyme there.”
“Thanks, I half-try.”
We continued chatting, catching up somewhat, with Katy telling me more about her trip. Nobody paid Katy any mind, considering that she did cut in line.
Having my best friend helped make the time tick faster, and we finally made it into the gym.
There were a bunch of people in here, and the gym’s acoustics made it sound like there were even more people. Mostly other freshmen, going into other, smaller lines in front of tables lined up and down the length of the gym. Waiting to get schedules. Other freshmen had already gotten theirs, and were walking around, either trying to find their friends or just trying to find the way out.
“I’m that way,” Katy said, pointing. “Of course ‘T’ has to be all the way over there.”
“Ha, I guess I’m lucky for once,” I said. “Mine’s right here.”
“Then, I’ll see you in a little.”
We went into our respective lines, maneuvering through the crowd to find where our lines started. The hard part was already over, waiting-wise, and I got to the front pretty fast.
“Barnett,” I said.
The woman manning the ‘B’ section nodded and flipped through folders in a cardboard box on the table, labeled as such. She didn’t take long.
“You don’t look like a ‘Dylan,’” the woman said, “So you must be Alexis. Alexis Ki… Barnett.”
She took a stack of papers out of the folder and box. My hand was already out, expectant.
She stopped short before I could grab for it.
“You look familiar.”
Not a question, but it did call for a response, an answer. I looked up at the woman.
Blonde, and not that much taller than me. Even with the air condition, it was still hot, but she had on a tracksuit.
Her eyes were intense. Studying me.
“Do I?” was all I had to say back.
“I think I’ve seen you at a game, somewhere?”
Something clicked in my head.
“I played volleyball at my old middle school,” I said.
“That’s it!” she said, snapping her fingers. “Normally I wouldn’t have caught that, but maybe seeing your face in a gym again brought it back to me.”
“Right,” I said. I just wanted my schedule. People were still waiting, behind me.
Not that I could just say that, could I?
“Well, here you are.” the woman set the stack in my hand. It was weightier that I initially thought.
The woman continued, “I’m Coach Tilly, by the way. Are you thinking about playing in high school?”
“Yes,” I said, even though I wanted to get a move on. Why lie about volleyball? “Definitely.”
“Great, we have a general meeting and tryouts in about two weeks. Oh.” The coach raised her chin, peeking. “Sorry to keep you, there’s more info about it in the student handbook.”
“Thank you,” I said, meaning it. That made it easier for me, as far as finding out how to join the volleyball team. The only question was if I was good enough to even make the team.
Coach Tilly smiled, exuding a warmth, there. I quickly waved as I took my handbook and left.
Pushing through more, much taller people, I found Katy in the crowd, conversing in a ring of other freshmen. I nudged her to get her attention.
Katy nodded, and broke away from the group. Some acquaintances from my old middle school, some from the other middle schools but came here. Katy and I both waved and smiled at them as we left the gym.
As we explored the school, we flipped open our respective packets, reading.
“What’s your first class?” Katy asked.
“Let me check.” I flipped through the packet I received earlier. It had everything about the school, the rules, dress code, school calendar, locker info… and class schedule.
“Pre-AP World Geography,” I said. “You?”
“Pre-AP Algebra-Two. Is geography your only advanced class?”
“English, but that’s it. No way can I do math.”
“I’m taking all Pre-AP, ha.” Katy really sounded like she was rubbing it in.
“Yeah yeah, what don’t you have?” I asked, “Nerd.”
It wasn’t anything to actually be perturbed over. We shared a chuckle and continued on.
We were out of the gym, but the territory was still largely uncharted. Every hall we traversed seemed bigger than the last. Posters advertising clubs and upcoming events, some better drawn than others. Some signs were in Spanish, others in French. Maps telling us where we were, what hall this was. Computer labs, chemistry labs. Doors leading back outside, but there were still places to go from there.
Other kids were in the hallways, too. Upperclassmen. They were either standing around, relaxed, leaning on the wall behind them, or they were walking like they knew where they were going and how to get there. With purpose. They were familiar with the school.
And they all looked like adults.
Katy and I were in a different grade from them, but we all went to the same school. We were one of them, now.
It was like what I’d seen in TV, the movies, my mom’s favorite cartoons and dramas.
Electrifying, even if thinking so was corny. Hey, I could admit to that.
“So this is Stephenville High School,” I said, summing up my thoughts. “Feels weird to be here.”
“Eh, we’ll be used to it in a week, and after a year we’ll be going to parties and doing all sorts of crazy stuff,” Katy said, “Just you wait.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by ‘crazy stuff,’ but I’m down.”
“Alright, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”
“C’mon, we’ve got four years here, let’s make the most of them.”
Katy and I exchanged looks. A mutual agreement.
We moved into another hallway, and the amount of things happening here nearly overloaded my senses. Students moving, pushing to go one way. Students standing around like before, but in much bigger clusters, chatting away. A couple tucked between two sets of lockers, making out. A teacher had to step out of his classroom to shoo them away.
This was a kind of lawlessness I wasn’t used to before, and it energized.
“Oh shoot,” Katy said, bringing my focus back to the now. “What was your first class again?”
“Oh, then you have to go. That’s in D Hall, upstairs. I saw it on the map. And the first bell is about to ring soon.”
I checked our surroundings again. There were more people moving than loitering, and they were hurrying. Not much time left.
And I didn’t know my way around the school. Not yet.
“Aww heck,” I said, turning to go back the way we just came. Much less crowded. “Katy, I’ll see you later!”
Katy continued down the packed hall. “Sure, lunch?”
And then we split up from there, preparing to tackle our first day of high school.
I jogged to find my first class, the bell about to ring.
November 28, 2016
The bell had already rung. I slipped into the only empty desk, on the farthest side of the room. Eyes followed as I made my way.
“You’re tardy, Alexis,” Ms. Powers said, watching me as I sat, hand still on the chalkboard. “Did you get a late slip?”
“No, I did not get a late slip,” I said, just barely holding myself back.
“You do owe me one, or that’s a mark on your record. Don’t forget that.”
I grunted, but she wouldn’t have been able to hear me. I settled in and put my notebooks on the desk.
“Psst, Alexis, you alright?” someone asked from behind me. A boy. Jacob.
“I’m good,” I lied.
I set a textbook on my desk, then propped my arm up on the surface, resting my head.
Just two more classes, and I was out of here.
If only it were that easy.
I thought I could make it through just one more day, one more full day of school. I was wrong.
It was a torture to be here. I got no sleep from the night before, much less from the week before, and the result was leaving me with a loose grip on myself. My head felt as if it was being beaten in from the inside, the impacts reverberating throughout my body. As if I was having an allergic reaction to this place itself. The school. The atmosphere.
Especially the atmosphere. The rain crashed down, we could all hear it, even from inside the school. It hadn’t let up from last night.
A dull haze.
But this wasn’t right, I knew that much. The old Alexis would have, at minimum, tolerated a regular school day like anyone else, or had a handful of enjoyable moments of social interaction with friends to power through. Looking forward to volleyball practice when the day ended. Regular, mercifully menial things.
This though, this? The ‘me’ as I was, now? It was like jamming a square into a circle. In theory, it was possible, but something would have to give way, something would have to break.
Either me, or this.
Papers flipping, out of sync. Everyone was turning pages in a book. I hadn’t even opened mine, yet.
I flipped it open.
I couldn’t understand any of it.
No, the words, the numbers, that I could get, but the formulas and concepts…
At least some things hadn’t changed.
Ms. Powers was already going into her lecture, but I already had her drowned out. As far as I remembered, no homework was due today, so I had a chance to get some peace-
“Alexis, can you do example number eight on the board for us?”
Murmurs among students, pages flipping, pencils and pens scratching away at the inside of notebooks. The clock ticking away seconds.
More seconds, ticked away.
I raised my head, not because of the word itself, but the tone.
Ms. Powers was looking right at me, stern.
“Yes?” I asked.
“Please come up to the board and complete example eight.”
I grunted again, a hair louder, but not to irritate Ms. Powers even more. More as an outlet for myself.
I took my textbook with me, going up to the board. I had enhanced strength, yet my feet were heavy.
“What page again?” I had to ask, taking the chalk from Ms. Powers.
“Page one-four-five, section five.” She didn’t sound happy to give the answer.
I flipped to that page, and stared at the problem. Then I stared some more.
I put chalk to board, copying the equation, the numbers. Putting the ‘X’s and ‘Y’s and funny looking ‘F’s where they belonged.
Another significant block of time was wasted away. Someone sneezed.
“Are you stuck?” Ms. Powers asked me.
“I don’t know how to start,” I said, “Or even where.”
The numbers were turning into undecipherable hieroglyphs the more I looked at them.
“Start by isolating your variables, and take out what you don’t need. This should be review for you.”
This might as well be another language. I supposed, in a sense, math was one, but it wasn’t universal for me.
“I don’t, I can’t…” I dropped my arm to my side, the chalk leaving the board.
Ms. Powers sighed.
I made the next move, back to my desk. Ms. Powers didn’t stop me.
“Amy, you do number eight.” She ended up asking someone else.
I fell back into my seat, head back to resting on the desk.
Sit here, and be normal. That was it. That was all I had asked of myself.
I couldn’t even do that.
Everyone probably thought I was dumb for no longer being able to grasp the basic concepts. One of the idiots. I supposed I could concede that.
But, if to only be a little fair to myself, I hadn’t been in a proper frame of mind for quite some time.
You got that right.
I closed my eyes.
When I opened them again, class had ended.
My other classmates were already up and ready to go. I lagged behind, gathering my stuff.
“Alexis,” I heard from behind, just as I was about to leave the classroom.
Internally, I groaned, but still I went over to Ms. Powers at her desk, my steps even heavier.
Ms. Powers was in her chair, and the chair was in her, in another sense. Her rotund body folded over the armrests. The effect wasn’t that pronounced, she wasn’t that big, but the chair did look like it was a part of her.
I stifled a giggle.
Ms. Powers started off. “I’m very concerned, Alexis, your grades have been slipping more and more. Not much improvement since the last time we spoke like this.”
“You still haven’t come in to do a makeup test for the most recent one, and you have a pile of quizzes to correct… and you’re only turning in half of the homework I assign, and half of those have just been wrong.”
Again, no answer.
“How have your other classes been going?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Okay. Been managing.”
“So it’s just my class, then? My class is the one that’s giving you the most trouble.”
I didn’t answer, only because I didn’t know how to respond.
Ms. Powers exhaled, and her body seemed to deflate with her. “I’m not going to give a long-winded lecture over that now, since I have another class coming in, but I do want you to see me after school. The midterm is in less than a month, and if you really buckle down and get to work, you might be able to start next semester with a passing grade.”
Ms. Powers sat there, as if waiting for me to say more, but I didn’t. I could see her face almost contort into a frown.
She spoke again. “Principal Kirk spoke with me, told me about what’s happened. I understand it’s been hard, but you can’t forget, or neglect, the responsibilities you have as a student.”
She gestured to the door, “Go, I’ll see you after school.”
Saying it as a matter of fact, almost like an order.
“And you don’t need to worry about the late slip,” she added. “No need.”
“Oh, thanks”, I said, then I left the classroom.
The next class was far more forgiving. It came and went without incident. The lunch bell tolled.
I didn’t go to the cafeteria, I didn’t even try to leave campus. I went straight to the office, instead.
As it happened, there was a line here. Wasn’t the biggest fan of those.
Then again, who was?
I was the only one in line whose shoulders weren’t wet. Another student, her parents, and a group. Workers, it looked like, wearing the same construction uniform.
The line actually moved along, which was a nice change of pace. The workers picked up their bags and were allowed to enter the office proper. They disappeared after they turned a corner.
Then I was up.
“Is Principal Kirk in?” I asked the lady manning the front desk.
“Hold on a second,” she said instead. She picked up the office phone beside her. A cord attached the phone itself to a base. She positioned it between her ear and her shoulder, pressing a number on the base.
“Yes, can Mia Tran, Elena Zhang, and Stacy Phan please come to the front office? Okay, bye.”
She hung up the phone, and finally addressed me.
“Name and ID?” she asked, as she chewed on gum. Smacking.
“Alexis Barnett…” I started, then provided her my school ID.
“What is this for?”
“I wanted to ask about possibly doing my schoolwork at home. He extended that offer to us a week back.”
“I know what you’re referring to,” she said, typing at her computer. “Principal Kirk is actually no longer available, but…”
She stopped typing, and turned to the printer beside her. She handed me the form that sputtered out of it.
“Get a parent and your teachers to sign it, then come back here,” she said. “Principal Kirk will take it from there.”
“Thanks,” I said, folding the paper in half. “Do coaches have to sign it too?”
“Um, if you’re in a team, then yes.”
“Then I’ll start with her, thanks again.”
She didn’t respond as I left, she was more interested in whatever she was typing. I left the office and took the shortest route to the small gym. The halls were sparse with people, as everyone went to lunch.
Right before I got to the gym itself, I went through a door that led me into another hall. One way led to the locker rooms, then the gym.
I went the other way. The coaches’ offices.
Not my own, and clearly from other sources.
But, for a moment, I felt trepidation.
I followed the sounds into the breakroom. Coach Bronson and Coach Taylor were chatting.
Coach Tilly was with them.
I knocked on the open door.
“Hey, if it isn’t the Beast from the East,” Coach Bronson said. His words were slathered in a Southern drawl.
“Hey,” I said.
Coach Tilly snapped her fingers at him, “Don’t call her that. Did you need something, Barnett?”
I lifted up the folded form, putting it into view. “It’s a personal thing, do you…”
She picked up where I left off. She nodded and got up. “We can move to my office. The rest of you, find something better to do.”
The other two coaches chuckled, but they left us alone. They followed Coach Tilly out of the breakroom, but they left the area entirely. Coach Tilly and I went into her office.
Her office wasn’t bad, as far as space went, but it wasn’t the Principal’s office. Her desk was cluttered with papers and paperweights and journals. Fitness and health and diet books filled the small shelf on one wall. Nothing on the other wall but posters relaying the same kind of information. She’d need the room to get to the other side of her desk.
It also lightly smelled of sweat. But being by the gym would do that.
We both sat on our respective side of her desk. I dropped my stuff, and gave her the paper. She looked at it, quick. She set it down.
“You’ve gotten this far, skipping practice without my permission, why do you need it now?”
I bit my lip.
“Go on, Alexis, you have a mouth, tongue, working jaw. Use them.”
I moved around a bit in my seat. I tried to relax myself. I found that I couldn’t.
“I wasn’t doing it deliberately, there’s been…”
I couldn’t find the words so easily.
“There’s been what?”
Vampire. Monster. Hero. Killer. Tell her you’re a demon.
I broke away, glancing at a wall. A poster, a diagram of the human body, limbs splayed. Organs and veins visible. Its eyes followed me.
I blinked, shook my head, reoriented myself. Its eyes looked straight ahead.
“There’s been a lot going on,” I said.
Vague, but whatever.
Coach Tilly sighed, taking the paper again. She leaned back.
“I’m not that sour about it, everything considered. I heard about what happened with Katy’s father. I know you’re good friends with her and all. My condolences.”
As if I needed another reminder. I sat there, taking the blow once again, in full force.
“Broke my heart,” I said, my voice hitched at the last word. Coach must have caught that, it wasn’t very subtle.
“Where’s Katy right now?” she asked.
I made my best guess. An inference, really. “She’s out for lunch… somewhere.”
“Eating in the cafeteria like a good little junior?”
“Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt,” I said.
“Okay, I can do that, but you haven’t been keeping tabs on her?”
I looked away, casting a glance somewhere else. “We’ve kind of decided that giving each other some space would be the best.”
“And that’s something you both agreed to do?”
“Something like that,” I said. “It’s complicated, and probably for the best. I’d actually go so far as to say it’s necessary.”
Coach Tilly usually had an easy-to-read face. She carried such a passion inside her that her expressions were a sort of amplified version of what she felt, internally.
The face she had right now was much more confused and subdued.
“Hey, you know what? I’m a coach for a high school volleyball team, not a psychologist. If that works for you, it works.”
Coach Tilly scrunched up her nose, breathing in, then out. She set the paper down, reaching for a pen.
“I hope you make good use of your time away from school,” she said, as she signed her name on a dotted line.
I thought about what I had in mind. Start by going back to Braham Barn, looking for anything I missed. If I had to tear the thing down, plank by plank, literally, then that was what I had to do. I probably owed Gomez another conversation, even though I intended to retire the Blank Face shtick. See where he stood, what else was left to do in that regard. If Solace had somehow dissolved into a non-issue, I needed to know for sure. If not…
Good luck to him.
It would be nice to be able to come clean to my loved ones about me, about everything. It also would have been nice to have Thomas back, but that was impossible, now. Even if I had the clearest details in the world about who I really was, I wondered if they’d accept me all the same. Or if they’d cast me out, not unlike a leper.
The thought of that made me reconsider it all.
“I hope so, too,” I said, verbalizing my thoughts.
She gave me the form, and I took it back. She then moved, bending down under her desk. When she came back up, she had a white paper bag. Medium sized, about the size of my head.
Coach set it down, then pushed it to me. “Here.”
I took it, setting it on my lap. A staple sealed the folded paper at the top.
“You would have known about it, had you been to team meetings, but I had put in an order for new uniforms. New design, same colors, of course, but the girls say it’s more comfy, it’s snug.”
“A brand new uniform.” I could barely remember the last time I wore my old one, or even played volleyball. It felt like some ancient tradition, now.
“Neat,” I said.
“Yes, and you’re still a part of the team, even though you’re not around. But, I want you to have it. Something to come back with, when you come back.”
I tried picturing a day in which I did come back. Playing with the girls, as a team, doing something I was actually good at.
Nothing but a dream, now.
“Thanks, Coach,” I said, honestly expressing my gratitude.
Coach seemed content at that, smiling a little. “Good. Now, Barnett, anything else you need from me? I think the lunch period is almost over.”
“I think that’s it,” I said.
“Alright, then, can you get the door? Looks like someone wants in on this pity party.”
I turned to the door. Sure enough, someone was at the other end, their head visible through the small window.
The handle was within arm’s reach. I opened it.
It was Eve.
“My gosh, hey,” I said.
“Are you coming back?” she asked.
Another gut punch. I could see the excitement in her eyes. It’d suck to cut her down.
“Just the opposite,” I said.
I saw her expression change.
Like ripping off a thousand bandaids.
“Enough about me though,” I said, “How’s the ankle?”
“Oh, this?” She lifted up her foot, gauze and bandages wrapped around the ankle. She rotated it easily. “It’s fine, I just need to keep up with my PT, then we’re golden. I was just swinging by to get some more pointers from Coach. Need all the help I can get if I wanna go pro.”
“Really? You’re wanting to go all the way?”
Eve lifted her chin up, beaming wide. “Of course, I think I can, and Coach does too.”
I looked at Coach, she shrugged.
“If she thinks she can… Maybe?”
“Hey!” Eve exclaimed.
We all burst into a laugh. Though it was at Eve’s expense, she took it in stride.
“That’s why you need to come to practice, Lexi,” Eve said, “We can spar.”
“I’m game,” I said, just talking to talk. “But I might be a little rusty.”
“We’ll just see about-”
Wailing. A constant sequence of the same note, over and over. The sounds hit.
We all leaped. Like we just got blindsided with a jumpscare.
Eve shrieked, cupping her ears and dropping to the floor.
I covered my ears as well.
“What is that!” I had to yell in order to be heard.
Coach Tilly answered, yelling back, “It’s not the lunch bell! Get the door!”
I got it, quickly moving my arm to shut it. The volume didn’t decrease, it was that loud.
“It’s the alarm for a lockdown! Get on the floor!”
I followed her order, dropping out of my seat to get lower. Hands still on my ears.
So loud, and it wasn’t letting up. Endless, ever present, no respite. My focus was too caught unaware to question why the school was even on lockdown.
If noise could actually force a physical impact, this was the equivalent of being kicked into the ground, and kept there with repeated kicks.
Then, it stopped.
It just stopped.
As slow as glaciers, my hands moved away from my ears. Ringing, but as an echo, not nearly as loud. Easy to tell that the alarm had ceased.
Eve was still discombobulated, hands over her head. I was in too low of a position to see Coach Tilly’s reaction.
And then another sound came on. I heard it. Bile crept up my throat as I listened.
“That should have gotten your attention. No, not ‘their’ attention, but yours, Bluemoon. I know that you’re here. I know.”