Falling (2 page)

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Authors: L C Smith

BOOK: Falling
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But. I'm not. So I have to sneak back in the old-fashioned way.

The wind whips through the trees, stirring up the leaves, which disguises my sounds. Shame it’s super-creepy.

I pull the little nail that I keep on the outside frame of the window. It stops it from shutting the whole way, and even though the latch is down on the inside, it isn't locked. The wind howls through the trees, flicking my hair into my eyes, blinding me for a second. I resist the urge to turn around. The quicker I get inside the faster it will stop creeping me out.

I pull the window up in one steady motion, making sure I don't stop at any point. The window makes a nails-down-the-chalkboard screech if you stop and then open it further. I spring off the ground, pulling myself through the window, rolling to the side so my feet don't touch the ground. I wait a full ten seconds, counting each one off silently, listening for anyone else moving or breathing, waiting to catch me.

Rolling over silently, coming up to my knees, then my feet. My hands firmly on the top of the window, I look around, closing my eyes to make it easier to hear someone. I pull the window down, holding the lock out with my thumb, so it doesn't click into place, then slide it in silently.

Looking straight ahead I sink to the floor and take off my shoes. Holding one in each hand, I walk through the middle of the cafeteria, stopping for a second at the doorway. I step out, check each way, and then turn left and move quickly down the main hallway.

Mrs Snouse. Damn. Shouldn't she be asleep or something? Damn it, damn it, damn it. She is sitting outside my door. She knows I'm gone and is waiting for me to get back.

I tuck myself into a recess in the wall and peer around. She is asleep. I duck down, feel around for something on the floor, and throw it down the hall from me, flattening myself further into the wall holding my breath.

Mrs Snouse's chair scrapes as she hauls herself to her feet. She strides past without one look toward me, and I leap forward, into her body. I hate doing this to my teachers, especially Mrs. Snouse. It's just plain gross.

She stops in the doorway of the cafeteria and looks around without going inside. Squinting, her eyes rove around the room, without ever moving her feet, she waits a few more seconds before walking across the room and checking behind the ring of tables at the back of the room, then dramatically she flicks a switch flooding the room with light.

Disappointed she shuts off the lights, closes the door and lumbers back down the hallway to her post.

She begins to sit back down, then as quietly as I can. “Go into Reid's room,” I say. She keeps sitting.

“Walk into Reid's room,” I say a little louder.

I don't want to get too loud or she’ll recognise my voice. Not that she’ll be able to prove anything, but if I keep myself out of this it might actually work.

It better, I don’t want to sleep in here. My whole body shudders just thinking the words.

She grips the armrests of the chair, grunting slightly at the effort, and gets to her feet. With both hands on the door handle, she twists it without making a sound, pulls her head around the door and peeks into the room. I left my pillows to make it look like someone was in my bed, and it works. She backs out.

“I thought she wasn’t there.” She mumbles to herself. “I’m sure Megan said she couldn’t find her.” Megan, my eyes narrow.

“Look in Reid's bed,” I say quietly making it sound like it was a thought that just popped into her head.

She stops, then rocks forward, like she is about to go inside my room, but stops and takes a step back. “Look at her pillow.” I say as gently as I can.

She leans down, unsure now if it’s really me in there or not. Just as she gets close to the pillow, I launch myself out of her and onto my bed, clasping my hand over my mouth, kicking at my blankets, to make it look like I was in them. I gently throw my shoes, so they tumble to the ground like they were on the bed too. Sara mumbles something in her sleep, rolling over.

“Oh, Mrs Snouse. You gave me such a fright.” I rub my eyes, making them redder. “Mrs Snouse.” I squint at my alarm clock, then back at her. “Can I help you?”

My forehead creases, looking confused, forcing my voice to be harsh and raspy. She freezes in fright as I stumble to my feet.

“Is there something wrong? What's happened?” I add when she says nothing. Her eyes are wide like I’ve caught her.

She defrosts suddenly. “Nothing, no, um, nothing Reid. Sorry to wake you. I thought Sara had, um, slipped out and was just checking on her.”

“Oh.” I say. “Sara wouldn't do that.” Rubbing at my eyes again.

She retreats out of my room as fast as she can without looking like she is running. “No of course she wouldn't. Sorry to wake you.” Then she stops and eyes me up. “Is there a reason you are still wearing street clothes?” She looks at me suspiciously.

I look down at myself yawning loudly, stretching my arms out. “I must have fallen asleep before I had a shower. I was reading in bed.” I point to the book on the bedside table, very conveniently sitting open. I was reading before I went out and couldn't be bothered putting it back in my desk.

“Change your clothes,” she orders. “You'll have to wait until the morning to shower.”

“I'll get on to it.” I say yawning loudly.

“Please keep it down Reid, people are sleeping.” She slips out of the room before I can say anything back. I change quickly and fall into bed quietly laughing at myself.

 

 

Chapter Two
 

I hear it. The blare of my alarm clock, I know I have to move my arm and get my hand to whack at it to stop it making that sound, but I can't remember where I left my arm or how to grow another one so I can make it stop.

Sara finally climbs out of bed and slaps the top. She takes a step away, turns back to me, her eyes still shut. Then she yanks the cord right out of the wall.

“Saturday. I don't have to get up.” She mumbles without opening her eyes she slumps back to her bed, pulls the covers back up and promptly goes limp.

I roll over, digging my legs further down into the deep warmness to find sleep for another couple of hours.

I bury my face into my soft pillow smiling, I so love the weekend. Nothing to do. No school to go to. No six thirty breakfast. No anything.

Thirty seconds later I switch sides kicking with my feet to find the warm again. I roll back to the other side.

Then back again.

I move my pillow so it angles away from the slight crack in the curtains that’s letting in the faintest sliver of light. But it's so bright, like someone's coloured in the sunrise with fluorescent paint.

I pull my pillow over my head to block out the light.

Now it's too hot and I'm breathing in the air that I have just breathed out. It's gross. I need to brush my teeth.

I throw the pillow off and the blanket back, pull two bull dog clips out of my desk and hold the curtains shut right to the top of the window. I stand back assessing to make sure all light has been excluded.

I stomp back to bed, pull the blanket over my shoulder and wiggle down to find the body-shaped warm spot where I was just lying.

I sigh disgusted. It's gone.

Turning flat onto my back I force my eyes to stay shut, but it's not going to work. I am awake. Stupid alarm clock, I only went to sleep a couple of hours ago.

I breathe in deeply, flinging my covers off. Might as well go use up all the hot water while everyone else is sleeping.

“You're up early, Reid.” Megan passes me in the hallway after my shower. “Have an early night?” Her voice is filled with fake concern.

“Not really.” I answer, walking right past her and into my room, closing the door behind me.

“You shouldn't be sad that you have no one to hang out with on a Friday night. Not everyone has friends, and that's okay.” She says loud enough for everyone on our floor to hear.

“Reid, you're here?” Sara says sitting up in bed, laptop resting on her knees.

“Where else would I be? Don’t you remember breaking my alarm clock this morning?”

“No, I don’t remember that. Did I really?” She looks past me to my bedside table. “Anyway.” She shakes her head smiling. “I think Mrs Snouse might know.” Her eyes grow wide as she says it, biting on the side of her lip.

“I just saw her, she just told me to keep my showers shorter. If she had something to yell at me about, she would have.”

“True.” She says unconvinced.

I throw my towel over the back of my chair. “So what are our plans for today?”

“My parents are coming to get me.” She says, her face growing red. “Sorry.”

“You don't have to apologise that you have a real life.” I try to hide my disappointment.

“But I said that I would hang out with you this weekend.” The end of her nose is fire engine red.

“Sara stop, you are going to catch on fire. You don't have to feel bad, you should be with your family, it's an out weekend.”

“You're really okay? My Mum wants to take me shopping, she says the shops I can get to don’t stock the kind of things she feels are appropriate.”

“That sounds like it's going to be all kinds of exciting.”

“Mmm.” She says with her face screwed up, but not so red.

“I can deal with it all, until she starts on the floral prints. It's like my Nana's curtains and matching table cloth and air freshener cover and tissue cover.” She sighs loudly.

“You really shouldn't miss that.” I rip a brush through my wet hair, yank it up into a rough pony tail. “Ready for breakfast?” I ask, and the red starts creeping up her neck again. “What?” I ask.

“They’re down stairs now, signing me out.”

I look down. Her weekend bag is sitting next to her bed, and I never noticed before, but it does have a faint floral pattern. It's really ugly, kind of peachy coloured. She follows my gaze.

“See, stupid flowers. I washed it about fifty times to try and make it less floral, but that stuff doesn't fade easily, probably why my Nana liked it so much.”

I laugh even though I want to cry. I can't believe she is going away and I am going to be stuck here all by myself, again. At least Megan will be gone too.

She throws back her covers, revealing that she is fully dressed. Red flares across her face again, and she slides the laptop into the side of her bag.

I walk her downstairs to show that I don’t resent her life.

“You guys enjoy your shopping.” I stop at the door when they start down the stairs. Mrs. Haddin looks back.

“Are you not leaving today, Reid?”

“No, my aunt couldn't come and get me. So I am going to have a relaxing weekend all to myself. All the hot water I want.” I smile holding back the sinking feeling. This is the second out weekend in a row I’ve had to stay by myself.

She gives me that poor orphan smile, then moves down the stairs, Sara grimly waving behind her.

At least I have breakfast to look forward to, I think as I let myself morbidly watch them get into their car and drive away.

Once the doors open to the dining hall, I know they must love me. They have done it again. I take my tray off the stack, sliding it along the rails. No, they have topped it. I pull a bowl filled with berries out of the cabinet, thick yoghurt on top. And there they are. Pancakes with maple praline butter and a side of crispy bacon.

I slide into my normal chair, even though no one else is here, pulling out my book, flip open to the page I was reading yesterday and take my first bite.

“It's just so sad.” Megan says, her followers smirking at me from behind her. “Don't you feel unloved and unwanted being left at school on a compulsory out weekend. Can't you find anyone to take you?”

I stuff my mouth again and make a noise like I am answering her then turn back to my book. She pulls out a chair and sits down. “Don't you feel like a pig eating like that? I don't remember the last time I ate carbs.” She comments flipping her hair over her shoulder.

I smile and shove a big forkful into my mouth, and raise my eyebrows at Keegan who has her mouth hanging open over Megan's shoulder. I pick up my book, hold it in front of her face and pick a strip of bacon and crunch through it.

Megan storms out like I told them they were fat. They must be afraid that the calories are going to chase them down and make them gross.

* * *

I push my plate away. Nine o'clock. My book drops to the table, finished, echoing in the empty room. No book, no food. I really need to do something other than sit in here. I suck in a deep breath and push away from the table, heading for the main doors.

I trawl slowly through the library stacks, looking at people. Walking through the main floor, there is a square right in the middle filled with couches for people to sit and read. I slowly move around it looking at the people, but trying not to make it obvious that I am watching them.

That guy doesn't even have a book, he's just staring at a group of people who are in the corner room, roughly half guys and half girls. About my age, I guess. The guys are all sitting on the edge of a study table while the girls look at books on the shelf behind them, randomly pulling them out, then pushing them back almost immediately.

The guys lean forward, talking and laughing with them. The girls are all coy and smiling at them.

I keep walking, not sure of where to look. I come back to the centre of the room. I think I’m going to look on the next floor up, as I walk past the edge of a row of couches I brush past a girl who is looking at an old copy of a music magazine. I walk slowly to the side of her. She looks kinda interesting. I grab a magazine off the shelf and sit down near her, but she stands up and starts moving toward the stairs. I impulsively follow her.

She moves up the stairs slowly and walks into the first aisle she comes to. I come around the side just behind her and before she can look at me I dive forward, my arms at my sides so if I miss it doesn't look like I'm trying to grab her.

In.

I right myself up watching out her eyes as she wanders around in the library for ten minutes without looking at one book. There's no pattern to what she looks at, I don't think she comes here very often, she doesn't seem to know where any of the books are supposed to be. Judging by her snorts at the cover of the display book in the architecture section, she's not really up on post-modern European design.

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