The Watchers Read online

Page 4


  There was a second of silence while I stood with my hands on my hips, panting like a dog, then whistles and cries of shock from the others echoed around the large space. Everyone had stopped their own games to watch us play; even Mr. Henley’s pig eyes were fixed on us in astonishment. I turned to Daniel to see what his reaction would be to our audience witnessing his defeat.

  What had been the big deal? Why would no one play against him? He was fast with his returns, but not untowardly. I caught everything he’d sent me at least. The bell rang signaling the end of the period as I stared at him. Everyone moved in the direction of the locker rooms, talking excitedly about our game, but I didn’t move.

  Daniel’s eyes were locked on mine with that same burning intensity, only now his eyes were filled with curiosity and amazement rather than a cool distance. The fire was no longer checked. Those eyes trapped me, locking my muscles and making my curiosity rage out of control again. As I watched, his bright eyes – suddenly the only thing that existed for me in the entire world – flashed an eerie black color. In the next instant they flashed back to green.

  My first, rational instinct was to think I’d imagined it, but all the hair on my neck was inexplicably standing on end. My eyes searched his in wonder, fascination, and fear. How had he done that? I opened my mouth to ask the questions burning on my tongue, my curiosity showing on my face. His face hardened as I did, and he turned away. Ignoring me completely, he started talking to Michelle and Jennifer as they passed him on their way to the locker rooms. I watched him go, noticing that his long legs covered the distance quickly. Next to the two girls he looked even more graceful than before.

  What had just happened?

  Chapter 3

  Mark materialized at my side, so close our shoulders were touching. He noticed where I was looking in a glance. He excused the oddity of Daniel with a negligent hand wave. “Don’t mind him. He’s not used to losing, ‘specially to a girl. I’m just glad he’s on our team…He’s the best quarterback we’ve had in years.”

  I jerked out of my fascinated state and focused on him, embarrassed he had caught me gaping after Daniel as if I had never seen a person before. We started walking toward the locker rooms.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yep.” He popped his “p” in a way I knew he thought cool. He grinned and I heard: She definitely doesn’t mind football players then, I just wonder if she’s into pretty boys. Of course, Daniel does get all the attention… “Where’d you learn to play?” he asked as we reached the door to the locker rooms.

  I pursed my lips at his thoughts, but answered as politely as I could. “I played for my school in Savannah.”

  “Cool. What class do you have next?”

  I had to think about it, distracted by the visions coming out of the boys’ locker room. Mostly naked boys ran in front of my field of vision as they horsed off and changed with lots of macho banter. Before I could shut out the visions, I saw Daniel taking his things slowly out of his locker, not joining in with the conversation around him. “Uh…Algebra with McDonald.”

  “Me too. I’ll walk you there.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly, aware he was being nice because he thought I was promiscuous. I needed the directions, though.

  In the dressing room I changed slowly, trying to piece together an explanation for what I had seen, glad no one bothered me, though the whispers lingered. I knew a lot about strange things. I was a walking, talking, strange thing, but I had never heard of someone’s eyes turning completely black before. Beyond the shock at me beating him, that black stare was the second real emotion I’d seen on his face. It scared me. Despite how the others viewed him I knew, without knowing how I knew, that he was dangerous. But what kind of dangerous? My kind of dangerous?

  When I walked out to the gym I found Mark – who was now wearing the letterman jacket I had imagined him in – waiting for me on the bleachers. Smiling, he took my bag without asking, which was annoying, and we walked out the metal doors. We passed by Mr. Popularity and his harem of girls just outside the door. They were hard to miss. They took up most of the walkway. Daniel smiled at Mark, giving him a brief high-five, but he didn’t look at me at all. I rolled my eyes at him, but kept walking, leaving him to the bevy of his adoring flock.

  Mark chattered at me the whole way to our next class, not noticing my distraction, not caring regardless; he was too busy trying to invent ways to get me interested in him. I let his voice wash over me without really listening to his words. Some things did leak through, despite my distraction, like that he was a native of King’s Cross, he played football – shocker – and his dad owned two of the three car lots in town. When we finally made it to class, he left my side, unaware of his less-than-there audience, and took his seat in the middle of the small room. Aware again of all the stares being thrown my way, I went to the teacher to get my slip signed.

  Mr. McDonald was nice. Preoccupied with the day’s lesson, he was still cordial as he signed my slip and handed me a text book. He directed me to a seat which, luckily, was in the back away from Mark and all the staring faces. Mr. McDonald’s thoughts were the only ones not focused on my appearance; he didn’t even notice. He started talking to the class as I sat, his voice cutting off the various conversations around the room. He was good, throwing a lot of jokes into his lecture to keep his audience’s attention, knowing he would have even less focus than normal today. All the curious faces gradually melted away from me, and their thoughts turned to the lesson he was presenting. Laughter and his country-twanged voice echoed around the room, creating a constant state of noise and learning.

  Relaxing a bit as the thoughts shifted away from me, I settled into my seat and let his voice fade into the background. Daniel’s black eyes and puzzling ways floated through my head again. Why was he suddenly a mystery I wanted to solve? The classroom faded entirely as my eyes switched to the windows facing the forest bordering the entire back of the school, the questions circling around my head in endless uncertainty.

  When the bell rang to signal the end of class, I jumped, having forgotten where I was. A girl with glasses and sharp eyes leaned over from her seat. She smiled shyly as, in a daze, I gathered my things. “I’m Jane,” she introduced herself. I don’t get why everyone is making such a fuss. I bet she hates all this attention. I know I would.

  “Hi, Jane.”

  “What do you have next?”

  I shook my head to get my brain working along school related lines. “Study Hall.”

  “Would you like me to walk you there?” she asked picking up her books.

  “That would be great.”

  I picked up my bag, and we walked out of the classroom together. As soon as we made it to the hallway, she asked, “Where are you from originally?”

  I answered her as best I could, thinking that despite the questions, these kids were some of the nicest I had encountered in all the schools I had been forced into. While a lot of the thoughts were judgmental and rude, many of them weren’t. It was as welcome as it was unexpected. Maybe, being here wouldn’t be as bad as my first morbid thought had proclaimed…Maybe.

  The rest of the morning quickly fell into a pattern of questions from people who couldn’t stop staring, wildly differing thoughts as to whether I was scary or cool, and someone inevitably offering to walk me to my next class. I was grateful for the walks between classes – they kept my nightmare from becoming a reality – but the stares and the thoughts were definitely not on my ‘awesome list’.

  Another boy, Davis, shared Spanish and Study Hall with me and walked with me between the two. He was quiet and nice; his thoughts less judgmental than most, yet somehow still impossibly full of stereotypes. At lunch, he offered to walk me to the cafeteria, an offer I accepted gratefully.

  When we entered, my eyes were immediately drawn to a large group of people sitting at a table in the very center of the room; something that was a result of planning. It was obvious the group was used to being noticed. I recognized
Jennifer and Mark, and a few others from gym, as well as Alex, who seemed to be telling a joke to the group. I looked at them, uncertain if my new acquaintances would be so accommodating with sharing their lunch table as they were with their questions and their thoughts, also uncertain if I wanted the attention. In all my other schools, I had ended up hiding in stairwells and out of the way nooks reading books to avoid the swell of thoughts such people filled places caused. I felt my bag, making sure I had my book just in case. Davis led me to the lunch line without speaking, and I surveyed the rest of the cafeteria, noting again the differences between all my other schools.

  It was small, yet brightly lit, with the food and cash registers in the very far corner from the door I had entered. The tables were round, with mismatched chairs squished in wherever there was room. It had a more cozy feeling than my last cafeteria. There, they’d had uncomfortable metallic swivel stools bolted onto long tables, I guess so no one could steal the stools. Here, stool stealing didn’t seem to be an issue.

  Alex caught my eye and waved as Davis and I threaded our way through the tables. Everyone else just stared. I waved back wondering if she was trying to appear cool by waving at the dangerous new girl, or if she was just that nice. She got up from her crowded table and joined me as I got my food, her smile dimpling her cheeks. She greeted Davis warmly, and he smiled back shyly, instantly blushing. I piled food on a tray and paid.

  “How’s your day been so far?” she asked kindly.

  “First day-ish,” I said, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings, aware that many people were listening in.

  “I know what you mean,” she said understandingly. “Do you want to join us?”

  Alex gestured at the large group she had been leading me towards. I looked at the tables, which had been shoved together to accommodate so many, and the thoughts assaulted me double time. I shifted uncomfortably, briefly enjoying the idea that I was invited, but not wanting the storm. I needed some peace; some time that was my own.

  “Um.”

  She glanced at me, and her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. She needs to be alone. Too much attention. But she doesn’t want to look rude. She turned to Davis. “I’m going to show Clare something. You can have my seat, okay?”

  “Cool,” Davis said, bobbing his head once, trying to hide his blush. He was centered in major crush town where she was concerned. It didn’t take my talent to see that. If Alex saw it, she hid it well.

  Alex led the way back to the hallway, past all the staring people, and to a squishy, padded bench down the hall. I sat down and propped my tray of food on my knees. “Thanks.”

  “I remember my first day here. It was sort of miserable.” I smiled in agreement and started in on my salad. “You’re a vegetarian, aren’t you?” Alex asked. “I noticed you totally bypassed the meat surprise.”

  I looked up at her to make sure I had heard her speak out loud. It was a problem I’d been encountering lately. I had to be sure not to answer people’s thoughts by accident. She was looking at me expectantly.

  “Who wouldn’t bypass the meat surprise? It’s a surprise no one should have. But yes, I’ve been one since I was twelve.” The day Ellen told me the truth. “Why? Is that strange or something?”

  “For this area it is,” Alex admitted. “Everyone loves their meat. I’m one too.”

  “Sweet.”

  “Did you want me to go back inside and give you a real minute of peace?” she asked.

  I shook my head as I swallowed my food. “Tell me more about Atlanta. I only drove through there a couple of times.”

  She smiled and started talking about her home city with the sort of remembered fondness I had for a dozen cities across the country. She was just getting into the stores where she used to shop when Mr. Popularity walked past on quiet feet, surprising me. I hadn’t noticed his presence, or felt any warning thought. We paused in our conversation automatically, my body freezing at the sight of him and the remembrance of his deathly-black eyes.

  He smiled warmly at Alex, and I sensed it was genuine. “Hey, Alex.” His eyes slid to me, crinkling with disdainful mockery. “You’re not making a pet out of the new girl are you?”

  I scowled at him, crunching my lettuce with more force than necessary. “Woof,” I said dryly.

  Alex laughed and made a face. “I know you have better manners than that, Daniel,” she scolded.

  I gave a skeptical laugh, which I tried to hide with a cough. He kept walking, tucking his hands into his pockets in a habitual gesture. His mocking smirk in response to my laughter, as he disappeared down the hall, was annoying. I stared at my salad no longer hungry, and tried to figure out if I was annoyed with him or scared of him. Shouldn’t I be scared? And why was it so fun to be annoyed at him?

  She’s upset. I bet it’s because of this morning. “I heard about your tennis game this morning,” Alex said honestly as soon as he was out of sight.

  I sighed, expecting the gossip to spread quickly. “Did you?”

  “Yes, yes, I did. I wouldn’t worry about him. He has this reputation for never losing at sports. You know how men can be about that.”

  I laughed, agreeing with her explanation. Her explanation didn’t answer the question of how his eyes had flashed that eerie black color, though. People’s eyes didn’t just flash black over competitiveness. No one I knew, at least. I didn’t mention it to her, however; she might spread it around to the school, and for some reason I didn’t want anyone to know about what had happened. Not yet. Not until I had answers.

  “Why wasn’t he in the lunchroom with the rest of the…” I trailed off not wanting to offend her.

  She arched an eyebrow. “Were you going for mindless sheep or brainless crowd?”

  I grinned…sheepishly. “Sheep. But I didn’t mean to-”

  “It’s fine.” They are mindless sheep for the most part. “He never eats in the cafeteria.”

  “Why?”

  “I dunno. Maybe he doesn’t like cafeterias.” Her tone implied it wasn’t her business. Or mine.

  “Can’t blame him,” I replied.

  She went back to explaining Daniel’s behavior. “Sometimes…Daniel acts the way people think he should act, instead of the way he is. He plays the part…jock…prep…whatever. I call him out on it…keeps him honest.” Her eyes sparkled with her smile. “I know why he does it, though. In a town this small, you learn how to keep people satisfied that they know everything there is to know about you, and keep the bit of you that’s real to yourself.”

  “Yeah, it’s called lying,” I retorted before I thought about it.

  I turned to apologize, realizing that I kept sticking my foot in my mouth, but she was laughing.

  “You don’t really lie I take it?” she asked.

  “A lie is a lie, but lying and keeping a secret are two different things,” I qualified a little uneasily, thinking my whole existence was a study in keeping a secret.

  “Exactly.”

  “So, are you two close? You seem to know a lot about him,” I said slowly.

  “You’re asking if we date.”

  “No.” I thought about it. “Yes.”

  She laughed again. “No, we don’t date. Daniel isn’t really my type.” She rolled her eyes. “I like quiet boys, and he talks too much. He’s also not easily caught. You have no idea how many girls cry themselves to sleep, because he’s so inaccessible.”

  “I might,” I told her thinking of this morning and all the girls who were daydreaming about him in rather shocking ways. She gave me a funny look, and I added quickly, “Not for that reason.”

  “What reason, then?” she asked. Does she pick up on the way people act as well? I bet she does. She’s probably learned that people aren’t the way they dress.

  I looked at her, mildly impressed. “Jennifer and Michelle were having eye-sex with him in gym. It was hard not to notice.”

  She laughed again, my answer satisfying her. “The bell is about to ring.
You want to put up your tray?”

  “Yes.”

  As I stood, I noticed a movement at the end of the hall, which disappeared as quickly as the time it took me to look again. I waited a moment, wanting to pinpoint the eavesdropper by their thoughts, indignant that we were being eavesdropped on, but the hall was completely silent, both in my head and externally. Our eavesdropper had fled the scene of the crime. I frowned, wondering who would eavesdrop on us. I pushed the weirdness away, figuring it to be an overzealous classmate.

  As I put up my tray, Alex asked me about my next class – literature – and I found we shared it. She offered to walk me there with more sincerity than Mark’s offer; she, at least, didn’t want something from me. I accepted happily, feeling odd that I had made an actual friend on my very first day of school. Admittedly, her thoughts weren’t typical. She was nice, not because she thought she could benefit from it, but because that was just her personality. She was popular for that very reason. I could sense the others respected her for her kindness and let her talk to them in ways they wouldn’t let anyone else. From fleeting impressions of Mark, Jennifer and Michelle, who stood to join us as we passed, I also knew Alex was funny and always had a joke or a smile.

  Look at her, already fitting in with the rest of the prideful degenerates. They don’t even know the danger they are in, yet they let her in without question. They will pay. They’ll all pay.

  I stopped walking, causing Mark to bump into me on our way out of the lunchroom. I ignored him, and looked around for the owner of the thought, startled by the hatred in the voice, startled, too, because I’d heard that same voice last night, outside my house. I listened hard, but the lunchroom was too full with the chattering masses for me to be able to pinpoint the owner. I shook my head and apologized to Mark, noticing that Jennifer was thinking I’d stopped on purpose to get him to feel me up. She wasn’t happy with the thought. Alex hooked her arm through mine again, and led the way out of the room.