Stalker
Chapter One
Summer Roberts muttered grumpily as she walked. Her car had broken down the previous morning, and neither her father nor her stepmother was home to take her to school. She was much too late to be picked up by the bus; Summer believed in being fashionably late to many things, and school was one of them. So she had woken up after the bus had already went by her place.
She had called Marissa, Luke, and even Seth (which she was really weary of doing) to come give her a ride, but none of them had answered their house or cell phones. So she was stuck walking to Pacific Heights Private School. Luckily, the school wasn't a lengthy distance from the Roberts' home, and it would only take her about fifteen minutes to get there.
She bit her lip as she crossed a street. This wasn't the best neighborhood in Newport, but it was the only way she could go to get to PHPS on time. It was still early in the morning, and the sun was barely rising. Even though the summer had barely ended, it was chilly, and she folded her arms.
Undoubtedly somewhat spooked by her whereabouts, Summer picked up her pace. The only sounds were the shuffling of her feet and the clap clap clap of her small bag connecting with her back. Summer noted these sounds, and her heart thudded faster when she heard more than the noises caused by her.
She could swear that she heard another set of feet walking behind her. Clapclap. It was a similar sound to that of her backpack, but it was faster. The sound would go clapclap, and then there would be a pause, followed by another clapclap.
Summer's heart was pounding out of her chest. She walked faster, and tried to peek from the corner of her eye, hoping to see who was following her. She didn't see anyone. Suddenly, she snapped around, trying to surprise the person.
There was nobody there. That made it scarier. Slowly and cautiously, she turned around, and speed-walked – anything to get out of this area. Even walking that fast, she heard the rapid thuds again. Clapclap clapclap clapclap.
Summer ran all the way to Pacific Heights, not chancing another look behind her. There was someone following her. She knew it wasn't just her imagination. Summer Roberts was afraid that someone had been stalking her.
* * *
Summer barely made it to school; the first bell rang just as she was stepping up the concrete front steps. She checked her schedule that she had gotten in the mail, and hurried to room 406. History. How boring.
She just made into the class as the final bell rang, and sat down in the nearest available seat. She scanned the room for anyone she knew. Marissa had Chemistry this hour, she knew, as they had compared schedules two days before. She knew most of the people, of course, but the only ones she was a good friend with were Holly and Ryan (who she had almost forgotten had started this year).
The teacher then took attendance and rearranged the students according to her seating chart. Summer was seated considerably closer to Ryan. She wanted to tell someone about her "stalker," but she was sure that Ryan wasn't the right person to tell. Marissa, maybe, but not Ryan.
But it was killing her. And it was scary, too. She would have fallen asleep in that class if it hadn't been for the fact that she couldn't get the occurrence off her mind. She kept hearing the clapclap clapclap clapclap over in her mind. She shuddered. Hopefully she'd be able to forget about it by that night. She wanted to be able to sleep.
She was paranoid, too. Her eyes shifted from person to person in the class. Most everyone was focused on the teacher, though some were half asleep, drooling on their desks. None of them looked suspicious; none of them were looking at her or acting nervous towards her. For some reason, she knew that she wouldn't be able to be comfortable around these people until she found out what had happened that morning. She wouldn't be able to talk to them without mentally questioning their motives. No, this incidence was going to haunt her for a while.
And she'd definitely make sure Marissa could give her a ride the next day.