Gone.
Poof.
That was what happened to the teacher. I didn't know how to explain it. The pen he was using to write on the board with clattered to the floor, drawing the eyes of every person in my class.
I looked over to one of my best friends, Quinn Gaither. I raised a quizzical eyebrow, he simply shrugged, as confused as I was. I turned around in my seat, looking to my only other friend, Sam Temple. He was wide-eyed, still staring at the place where the teacher had been.
I was so confused. It was very, very confusing. I replayed the last few moments in my head.
I had been asleep on the desk in front of me, like I sometimes did in class. Quinn had thrown a rubber at my head to wake me up. I had raised my head and frowned, confused as to what had happened. Then I realised. I narrowed my eyes angrily at Quinn and went to answer the teacher who asked me a question (that's why Quinn woke me up). I had opened my mouth to tell him the answer I didn't know and then 'poof'.
"Dude..." I murmured, breaking the silence in the class.
"You saw that, right?" Sam asked no one in particular.
"Where's Mr. Trentlake?" Quinn asked.
"Well that was weird," I said.
Quinn's POV
I asked the question on everyone's mind. Seriously, where was the teacher? He was gone! Nowhere, he simply disappeared.
"Well that was weird," Penelope said in her British accent. She moved here a few years ago, two or three, I can't remember, with her older brother. Sam, Penelope and I were fast friends. We all bonded over our love of surfing.
I had woken her up because the teacher asked her a question in his harsh voice, "Penelope Nelliel," he had said, using her full name, "Please explain the role of Joseph Stalin in the Soviet Union."
She had big, soft, brown eyes that never seemed to focus on anything in particular, like she was never actually concentrating. She had olive-coloured skin, which was slightly darker due to a tan made by the sunny Californian weather she still wasn't used to. Her hair was long and almost always loosely braided down the side. Her hair was honey coloured with sun-kissed blonde streaks. She had cute freckles dotted over the bridge of her nose. She was quite beautiful. It was a surprise no one had asked her on a date yet.
Okay, maybe not that much of a surprise. That nice, kind, innocent look her eyes gave could instantly turn cold and cruel. And those nice lips could form the most frightening scowl. And that warm face of hers could instantly, at the snap of your fingers, turn into something terrifying and at times, inhumane.
She had slight issues that needed some counselling... okay, maybe not so slight. She was described as 'cruel' and 'violent'. That came in outbursts. And she normally didn't respond calmly to people, mostly just got angry, or aggressive. And I heard from a teacher she was revealing a hint of sadism, but not a lot.
And when I say violent I mean violent. She had, according to her, been taking karate since she was very small, and I believed her, I'd seen her in the dojo once, she was amazing. So she knew how to hurt people, and she didn't most of the time, so that's good.
But she was a top-notch surfer, and very pretty. Even if other people were scared of her, I thought that she was very nice.
"What?" She frowned, looking quite angry.
Penelope's POV
Quinn was staring...again. "What?" I asked, the irritation obvious in my voice. He shook his head. I rolled my eyes and looked back to the front of the classroom.
"What happened?" Someone asked. It was Mary Terrafino. "He must have left," she dismissed her own question.
"No, man, poof." Edilio said. Sam had wanted to invite him to go surfing with us sometime, but I guess he never got around to it.
I looked around, no one looked scared, or upset, people just giggled and started chatting to their friends.
I shrugged and lead my head back on the desk. "Mr. Trentlake poofed?" Quinn asked, smirking.
"Hey, where's Josh?" Someone asked. I didn't know the boy who asked, but I knew Josh. He was the class smartass.
Everyone looked around to Josh's seat, right in the front row. Quinn, Sam and I sat in the back row. That was because you could sometimes see a small part of the ocean where we loved to surf.
"Was he here today?" I asked.
"Yes, I know he was here. He was right next to me." Bette said to the rest of the class. She tried to talk to me once and to become friends.
I think I scared her off.
"He just, you know...poof." Bette said.
Then the door to the hallway opened. I expected Sir to walk in with Josh, to explain it was a trick. And then he would get back to asking me a question of which I didn't know the answer to. And then I would get a detention for the end of school, and then I would have to explain I already had a maths detention.
But it wasn't Sir. It was Astrid Ellison. I frowned in annoyance. I didn't like her. She was nicknamed Astrid the Genius. It was because she was really smart. She was in every AP class the school had and was taking courses online for some subjects. Wait, not all. She didn't have Art in the bag. That was my forte.
She wore neat black trousers and a pristine white blouse, which perfectly complimented her perfect, shoulder-length, blonde hair.
She was a stark contrast to me. I normally wore batwing shirts over knee-length, denim shorts. I couldn't wear anything warmer. It was way too hot for me. I was more into the cold, Wintery, British weather.
Sam liked Astrid; he brought her up in conversations quite often.
"Where's your teacher?" Astrid asked.
"He poofed," I mumbled, just about drifting off to sleep again.
"Isn't he out in the hallway?" Mary asked her, worry beginning to sound in her voice.
Astrid shook her head. "Something weird is happening," she said, the scared tone she used got my attention. I raised my head to look at her, she said "My Maths study group, well, there were three of us, minus the teacher. And... how was it you put it?" she asked.
"Poof," I shrugged.
"Yes, poof," she said, obviously not impressed at the term I was using.
She looked at everyone, lingering on everyone's faces, scanning everyone's faces for a sign that this was all one, big joke.
She found nothing. She looked scared then. Her blue eyes were wide with fear. "Just...poof..." She whispered.
"What about your teacher?" Edilio asked.
"She's gone as well," Astrid answered.
"Gone?" I asked.
"Poof." Quinn said, he was beginning to realise that this was not a joke. I don't think anyone was joking around now.
Car alarms. That's what I heard. That's what was bugging me. The sound was distant, coming from somewhere in town.
Sam stood up suddenly. He looked at me worriedly, and then gave the same look to Quinn. He walked to the door and into the hallway. He walked funnily, not the relaxed walk he normally used; his walk was stiff-legged. I stood up and followed him, Quinn close behind.
We walked towards room 211, where Astrid had been. We didn't get there. As we came out of our room a kid from room 213, the next door down from 211, stuck his head around the doorframe.
He looked scared, but also maybe a little happy. It was a mixture of emotions playing out on his face.
At room 207 kids were laughing unnaturally loud, maybe taking advantage of the lack of adults. Then, across the hall at 208, sixth-graders burst out the door, giddy. I looked towards them and narrowed my eyes. They stopped dead in their tracks, looking scared. Good.
We carried on walking to Astrid's classroom. When we looked in there was no one there.
On the board was 'Polyn'.
"She was writing the word 'Polynomial'." Astrid whispered.
"Obviously," I remarked sarcastically. "That was my guess."
"I had a Polynomial once. My doctor removed it," Quinn said nervously. I smiled; no one else would, especially at that weak attempt at humour. But he was just trying to lighten the grim mood.
"She disappeared in the middle of writing the letter 'O'. I-I was looking right at her," Astrid said, she started to sound even more scared.
I pointed at the board pen on the ground. It looked like it had been dropped; just like the pen Sir was holding.
"This is not normal," Quinn said. Quinn was tall, and strong, and a good surfer. I loved the way he dressed, like he couldn't care less. Today his crazy outfit consisted of baggy shorts, army surplus boots and a pink golf shirt. He also wore the fedora hat he found at his grandpa's house; he wore it all the time now. And he was handsome with his messy, dark hair.
That weirdness sometimes scared others off, he had his own clique, which is why he, Sam and were best friends.
Sam dressed a little less eccentrically. Today he wore jeans and a plain shirt.
He didn't really stick out as much as Quinn and I in this school. This small school that had kids of all ages, the nearest school other than this one was an hour's drive away.
Sam was a surfer who didn't fit in with the regular group of surfers, same as Quinn and I. He was bright, but not a genius and good-looking, but not enough to catch every girl's eye.
He was School Bus Sam. He got the nickname in Seventh Grade. The class been on the way to a field trip when the bus driver had a heart attack. They'd been driving down a highway. Sam, reacting quicker than even the adults, pulled the man out of his seat, steered the bus onto the shoulder of the road and brought it safely to a stop. And then he even had the sense to call 911 after that as well.
I heard that story the first week I was in this school.
He saved everyone on that bus. If he had hesitated even a second then the bus would have plunged off a cliff and into the ocean.
He'd been in the paper.
"The two other kids," Sam said, stopping my train of thought "Plus the teacher are gone, all except Astrid. That can't be normal." He stuttered her name. I grinned, Sam was so nervous around her.
"Yeah, kind of quiet in here, brah," Quinn said. "Ok, I'm ready to wake up now." He wasn't kidding when he said that.
I heard someone scream. I winced, it was a skin-crawling sound. All four of us went back into the hallway. A girl about my age, maybe younger, called Becka was the one who had screamed. In her shaking hand was a mobile phone. "There's no answer!" she shrieked, "There's no answer, there's nothing!"
She started crying. That made me feel uncomfortable. Why was she crying? She didn't need to cry. "Stop," I snapped, she looked at who said that and once she saw me she bit her lip and nodded.
But then everyone was on their phones, attempting to call people.
"It's not doing anything," Someone said.
"My Mom would be home, she would answer. It's not even ringing."
"Oh my God, there's no Internet either. I have a signal, but there's nothing."
"I have three bars."
"Me too, but it's not there."
Someone started bawling like a scared kitten. That angered me.
More crying.
My skin was crawling.
"Try 911," Someone demanded.
"Who do you think I called, idiot," someone retorted.
"There's no 911?" a scared voice whimpered.
"Nothing!" Someone yelled, "I've gone through half of my speed dials and there's nothing!"
The hallway was packed now, everyone flocking together. People weren't bothering with the next class, or what they were having for tea tonight or anything else. People just stood there, waiting to be told to move on by a teacher.
But there were no teachers. Then the bell ran, everyone flinched, not expecting the harsh noise to ring out.
"What do we do?" Someone asked. That one question echoed around the hallway.
"There must be someone in the office, the bell went off!" someone exclaimed hopefully.
"It's on a timer, moron!" Someone snapped. It was Howard. I knew Howard, he was a worm. But he was Orc's number one henchman. Orc was in eighth-grader. He scared everyone; he was a tower of fat and muscle. Everyone feared him. Even I did, which was saying something. Because of that, I did not go and pound Howard, like I wanted to.
"They have a TV in the teacher's lounge," Astrid informed us.
We practically jumped down the stairs to the bottom floor of the building. There weren't as many classrooms so there weren't as many kids.
Sam's hand was on the handle of the teacher's lounge. He froze. "We're not supposed to go in there," Astrid said.
"You care?" I asked. "Move aside, Sam," I said. He nodded and did. I pushed the door to the room open.
The teachers had a fridge, apparently, it was open and a carton of yogurt was on the floor. Its contents were spilled onto the well-managed carpet. The TV was on, but it was only static.
Where was the remote? Quinn found it and searched through all the channels, nothing at all.
"Cable's out," Sam said, I looked at him as if to say 'really, that's the first thing you think to say?'
Astrid reached behind the TV and fiddled with a few cables, hoping to get some sort of picture. She failed. "Oh, I like this static better," I remarked, "Much more interesting."
She looked at me like I was an idiot. Okay, sure, why not? That girl was already getting on my nerves. Quinn ran through a few channels again, still nothing.
"Try Channel Nine," I said. He nodded. You could always get channel nine, even without cable. He tried Channel Nine, nothing.
"Teachers, some of the kids, cable, broadcast, cell phones, all gone at the same time?" Astrid frowned. She was trying to work it out. We all waited for her answer. She was 'Astrid the Genius' after all. "It doesn't make any sense," She finally said.
Sam tried the landline. "No dial tone." He informed us.
"What about a radio?" Quinn asked, "Is there one in here?"
There wasn't one in there.
After we looked for a while two fifth grade boys rushed into the room, grins spread across their faces. "WE OWN THE SCHOOL!" One yelled, the other yelled something I couldn't understand.
"We're going to bust open the candy machine," One announced proudly.
"If you do I'll bust open your head," I threatened.
"You can't tell us what to do," One said, but he doubted himself, even more so when he saw that I was serious.
I went to walk forward, to kick them out of the room so that we could concentrate. Sam grabbed my elbow and pulled me behind him. "You're right, little dude," he said to that rude little boy. I looked at the place he had grabbed me, 'sorry' he mimed. I didn't like being touched by anyone. It was even more uncomfortable than seeing people cry. "But look," Sam said, "How about we all try and keep it together till we figure out what's going on?"
"You keep it together!" the kid yelled. I went towards them again. They ran off, going to the candy machine.
"I guess it would be wrong to ask them to bring me a Twix," I grumbled, folding my arms.
"Fifteen," Astrid said.
"No, man, they were like, ten," Quinn corrected.
"Not them." She said, "The kids in my class. Jink and Michael. They were both math whizzes, better than me. But they had LDs, you know, learning disabilities," She explained it like we were idiots, "Dyslexia, that kept them back. They were both a little older. I was the only fourteen year old." She explained. Sam, Quinn and I were all fourteen.
"Josh was fifteen," I said, catching onto what she was saying.
"So?" Quinn asked.
"So he was fifteen, Quinn," Astrid said, "He just...disappeared. Blink, and he was gone."
"I think you'll find its 'poof'," I noted to her annoyance.
"No way," Quinn murmured in denial, "Every adult and older kid in the whole school just disappears? That makes no sense."
"It's not just the school" Astrid said.
"What?" Quinn snapped at her.
"The phones and the TV?" Astrid said.
"No, no, no, no, no," Quinn repeated over and over again. He looked like he was going to cry.
"My Mom," Sam murmured.
"Man, stop this," Quinn said, "All right? It's not funny."
Panic. That's what I was feeling. Scared, that was the other thing. My knees began to shake, threatening to buckle.
I looked at Sam; he was panicking as well, but not as much as Quinn. I'd never seen Quinn so scared. His mouth quivered and way too much white in his eyes showed.
Astrid was calm though, of course, still trying to work it all out, like one giant puzzle.
"We have to check it out," Sam told us.
Quinn let out a choked sob. He began to move away but Sam grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away from the door.
"Get off me, brah," Quinn snapped, "I have to go home, I have to see."
"We all have to see," Sam said, "But let's go together." He told him.
Quinn began to move away again, but Sam's grip tightened. "Quinn. Together."
"Dude," I said, "It's like a wipe-out, you know? You get launched, what do you do?"
"You try not to get worked up," Quinn answered.
"Exactly," I nodded.
"You keep your head straight through the spin cycle, right, then swim towards daylight," Sam said.
"Surfing metaphor?" Astrid asked.
"Oh look, something Astrid the Genius doesn't get," I remarked, eyes wide, feigning shock.
"OK, stop," Quinn told me, then looked back to Sam, "You're right. Together. But my house first. This is messed up. This is so messed up."
"Astrid?" Sam asked her. She raised an eyebrow. Sam choked up.
"You coming with us?" I asked her for Sam.
She nodded. She didn't know where to go or what to do any more than we did.
I heard voices from the corridor. They showed all kind of emotions: fear, relief, sadness. It wasn't good.
"Come with us Astrid, we'll be safer together," Sam said.
Astrid flinched slightly at the word 'safer', but I don't think Sam noticed it.
We left the building, dodging the crazy kids running around.
Something big had happened. And it was not good.