Into the Light
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!
Chapter Thirteen
Trixie glanced up at the clock in her classroom. Ten-fifteen. It seemed like the day was continuing to drag on, just like Monday had done before it. Yesterday's school day had seemed endless and today appeared to be rivaling it. She propped her face in her hands, willed her eyes to stay open, and pretended to listen to her teacher. It took a superhuman effort to even attempt to pay attention. Sleep had been fickle. It hadn't been easy to come by over the past two nights. Her mind continued to be in an unfaltering turmoil. Ever since the Bob-White picnic on Sunday, thoughts had begun to besiege her every time she closed her eyes. She couldn't shake them and continued to be bothered by them, much more than she cared to admit, even to herself.
Her teacher's voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere far away, droned on and on endlessly. Practiced in the art of at least appearing like she was paying attention when in fact her mind was somewhere else entirely, Trixie began listing the reasons why her nerves were on a ragged edge. A potentially suspicious note. At least one daily, mysterious phone call on her cell phone, all made from different phone numbers. When she had attempted to call the numbers back, she had received the same message. The phone numbers were no longer in service. Then there was the scratch on her mother's car, while she had been in possession of it. The feelings of being watched by someone she couldn't find. There had also been her fall from Susie, as well as the loss of her hat, but she couldn't piece together how those two items could fit in with the possibly shady happenings. But the worst part was not knowing if there was even an inkling of truth to the suspicions that were unwaveringly gathering steam in her brain. "There's a chance I could be seeing things that aren't really there," she grumbled softly, earning a hard look of annoyance from the girl sitting on the other side of her. Feeling guilty, Trixie flashed her an apologetic look.
Then she sighed. It was hard to decide if there was even a problem or it was all a figment of her imagination. That was the only reason why she hadn't shared anything with Honey. She glanced over at her partner, who hadn't heard her. She was intently scribbling down notes from the lecture, her eyes focused on their teacher. Trixie decided to copy her and started doodling in her notebook, hoping that she could at least pass for copying down the words of wisdom from their teacher. She figured that if she missed anything important, Honey could catch her up on it later. It was hard to actually take down highlights of the lesson when she wasn't listening to it.
The bell buzzed, causing Trixie to flinch and drop her pen. It cluttered to the floor with a small clang. She giggled, grateful that she could still laugh at herself, and gathered her things together. At least her sense of humor hadn't been touched.
Already packed up and ready to leave, Honey waited patiently. She shouldered her pink backpack and stood next to her desk, absently smoothing a hand over her hair. Tapping Trixie's shoulder as she stood up and walked past, Honey whispered in her ear, keeping her voice low so their teacher couldn't hear them, "Did you even hear a word that Mr. Jackson said?"
"No," Trixie admitted, embarrassed, as they exited the classroom. She felt a slight flush stain her cheeks. "I hope I didn't miss anything important. Did I? Any reports due or tests coming up in the next few days?" At Honey's shake of the head she breathed deeply. "That's good, then"
"Is everything all right?" Honey asked, unable to keep the concern out of her voice.
"Yeah, everything's fine. I didn't sleep too well last night, that's all." Trixie forced herself to meet Honey's gaze, not wanting to make her friend suspicious.
Or the night before, Honey thought. She had noticed the telltale signs of fatigue on her friend. "I thought so," she remarked easily, although her gaze sharpened as she waited for more of an explanation. "What kept you up?"
She gave a tiny shrug of her shoulder. They stopped at the end of the hallway, where the two would have to depart in opposite directions for their next classes, and moved closer to the wall so that the rest of the students could continue to filter past them. "It was just one of those nights, I guess. My mind didn't seem to want to stop working. Every time I closed my eyes, I started thinking. I couldn't shut it off. You know me," she chuckled, holding her hands out in front of her.
Normally that would mean Trixie was working out the kinks of their latest mystery. Honey studied her intently. If there was a mystery, Trixie hadn't been sharing. Anything. She decided to go on a fishing expedition. "Well, it couldn't have been about school. I don't think I've ever known schoolwork to keep you awake. If anything, it's bound to safely put you to sleep," she chuckled, wanting to put Trixie at ease.
"Truer words were never spoken." Trixie gave a small, exaggerated shudder and took the words with a good-natured smile. She couldn't argue with the truth. "Schoolwork and I do not go hand-in-hand, as you well know. But that's not what kept me up. I was thinking of other things."
She could only come up with one plausible reason. "Like how my brother is on his way to pick up your brother right this very minute?" Honey remarked, with a teasing glint to her lovely hazel eyes. She smiled when Trixie laughed. Maybe the answer to her sleepless nights was really that simple.
"That's right," Trixie said, feigning surprise and giving her forehead a smart slap. It felt good to be teased. It felt normal. And it helped chase away her fears, if only for a small moment in time. She laughed again, hoping to fool her sharp-eyed friend into believing there wasn't anything potentially wrong. "It is Tuesday. Brian is coming home today. How could I have forgotten that?"
Honey lifted an eyebrow, impressed with how Trixie ignored her pointed reference to her adopted brother, and felt her suspicions start to fade away. Trixie was acting like her normal self and seemed calm and collected. The relief Honey felt was immense. As much as she enjoyed solving a good mystery, she believed the two of them had enough on their plate for now. Maybe after graduation...Honey pondered whimsically before continuing their conversation, "There's a good chance they'll be home by the time our school is out. Jim left this morning at the same time that I did. He said that Brian is very anxious to get back home and wants to leave as soon as he can, right after his last exam, if that's possible."
"I'm anxious to have him home. He sounded tired himself the last time I talked to him. It'll do him good to be home for awhile, even if he has to head back to put his nose to the old grindstone soon after our graduation." Trixie pointed to her next class, down the nearly empty hall, anticipating the coming bell. There were only a few other students loitering about. "As much as I'd like to spend the rest of the morning chatting with you, Honey, I think we'd better get going before we're late."
"You're right. I don't want to be tardy, especially with our graduation right around the corner." Honey threw her a pretty smile, her slight fears laid to rest. But Honey wouldn't push her fears completely aside. She knew Trixie well. If there was something amiss, Honey would be there to assist in any way possible."I'll see you in about forty-five minutes for lunch, Trix. Have a good class!" She moved at a fast clip down the hallway and towards the home-ec room, a class Trixie had managed to successfully avoid for her four years of high school.
"Right," Trixie responded sarcastically. 'Good' and 'class' were not two words she would ever put together. She waved goodbye and entered her classroom. Thankfully sliding into her seat at the back of the room packed with seniors, she had just enough time to pull out a notebook and pen before her teacher entered. She had chosen a prime spot, far enough away from the teacher so that she could hopefully escape detection and wallow in her own thoughts instead. It worked, although she had as tough a time paying attention in her Humanities class as she had had in her three previous classes.
Luck, that oftentimes fickle thing for her, was on her side once again. Her teacher did not call on her, much like the rest of her teachers through her morning classes. Maybe it was the violet smudges under her eyes, telling them plainly of her recent difficulty with sleep. Or maybe it was the fact that her face was pale under the start of her spring tan. Or it could have been the way she sat perfectly still through each class, without her usual bouncy energy. Whatever it was, each teacher took pity on her and left her alone for which she was pathetically grateful.
When the bell rang for her lunch wave, Trixie reluctantly joined the river of students rapidly flowing along to the cafeteria, content to follow along at a much slower pace. Once inside, she sat down at their table, surprised to see that she was the first one to make it. Both Honey and Di should have had enough time to beat her to the table. Lifting her eyebrows, she first took out her cell phone and turned it on. It was with a great deal of relief she saw that there wasn't any missed calls and placed it on the table. Taking out her lunch bag, she pawed through it and laid her lunch out. An apple, a bag of pretzels, a ham and cheese sandwich, and a bottle of apple juice. None of it looked appealing to her. Knowing that her friends would have a million questions for her if she didn't at least attempt to eat, Trixie picked up her apple and slowly started taking bites.
When the melodious song of her cell phone interrupted her bite, she jolted in her seat and dropped her apple to the table. She hated being so damn jumpy, almost as much as had started to dread the ringing of her cell phone, despite the nifty ring tone Jim had chosen for her. Giving the inanimate object a look that should have reduced the poor, innocent thing to ashes, she hesitatingly reached for it and breathed uneasily into the receiver, her voice shaky and low, "Hello?"
"Hey, Trix!" Honey sang out cheerfully. "I wanted to let you know that we won't be eating in the cafeteria today. Di and I and the rest of our home-ec class are eating lunch in the kitchen. We had the best class ever. Our assignment was to plan and make a well-balanced nutritional lunch. It came out really well. I can't wait to try the spinach omelette Di made. Anyway, I'm calling to ask you if would want to come and join us. We don't want you to have to eat alone. What do you think? Do you want to come?" She paused for breath.
"No, thanks," Trixie refused politely. That would explain why she had made it to their table first. She grinned into the phone. "I wouldn't feel right about joining your class for lunch, not when I didn't help make anything. Don't worry about me, Honey. I don't mind eating alone. Really. I'll see you at the end of the day." She hung up after Honey said her farewells and stared at her food. At least now she wouldn't have to pretend she wanted to eat.
Her eyes focused on the large clock above the cafeteria. She watched the large second hand forward at its deliberate pace, mesmerized by the motion. Without her friends with her the lunch time seemed to go by slower than the proverbial trail of molasses. Needing something to do, she went through her backpack and placed a notebook and her afternoon textbooks on the table. Studying was an option, not her most favorite option, but one nonetheless, and it may even alleviate her boredom. She looked at her books in disgust even as she reached for one. It didn't appeal to her in the least.
"Hi, Trixie," a quiet voice interrupted her.
She glanced up, a frown still on her face, and absently opened her chemistry book. "Oh, hi, Alex," she greeted her prom date with forced enthusiasm that she couldn't quite hide. He was nice enough, that was sure, and she normally enjoyed talking with him but she really didn't want to be bothered right now.
He looked into the deep blue eyes, saw the distance in them, and bit back a sigh. It had seemed like a stroke of good luck when she had agreed to go with him to the prom. But, when she had insisted that they would only go 'as friends' and as part of a larger group with Honey Wheeler, Diana Lynch and their respective dates, a part of him had been very disappointed. Now it looked like she would rather eat lunch alone than spend a few minutes of time with him. He had a feeling that their prom night could be a very long night, indeed. "It's been awhile since we had a chance to talk."
She could tell he was waiting for an invitation to sit down. Hating the fact that she was being intentionally rude, she made no move to pack up her books. She didn't want company, was more than content to spend the lunch period alone, and gave him a tiny smile. "It has been awhile," she agreed with him, not being able to recall the last time they had spoken together. "School's been keeping us both busy, I guess. Lots of tests, papers and homework."
"Yeah." Not for him, but he didn't mention that. Starting to feel a little foolish and rather uncomfortable, he searched for a source of conversation and finally came out with, "I, uh, was wondering what color your dress was. You know, for the prom. I thought it would be a good idea to make sure that we match."
"Oh! Dress!" Trixie exclaimed, surprised, covering her mouth with her hand. She looked at him sheepishly. Of course she would need a dress for the dance. It only showed how much of a chore it was for her instead of a pleasure, since she hadn't made time to go shopping for one yet. She bit her lip, knowing full well that if the person she really wanted to go with had been her date, she would have had the entire ensemble ready the very next day. "I haven't picked one out yet. Honey and I are shopping this Sunday. We can't go this Saturday since I'm working," she explained haltingly, hoping she hadn't offended him.
Most of the girls he knew had bought their dresses a long time ago, practically the second after their dates had asked them to go. It seemed odd to him that she hadn't bought one yet. The prom was last than two weeks away. "Well, I guess you'll let me know on Monday then, huh?"
"Of course." It felt disconcerting. The closer the prom came, the more she regretted agreeing to go to it in the first place. She had no real desire to go with the nice young man in front of her, but she certainly didn't want to hurt his feelings and cancel out on him now. Besides, her friends would never forgive her and were the main reason why she had agreed to go in the first place. "I'm sure it will be blue, though. It's my favorite color," she offered consolingly.
"All right. Blue it is." He gave a small nod before a small moment of silence surrounded them. Shuffling his feet awkwardly, he finally blew out a breath and said, "I'll catch you later, Trix. Have a good day."
Trixie felt immensely relieved when he moved on. A nice guy and all but he wasn't the one for her. She closed her eyes, pictured the one who was, and felt her heart sigh with a slight pang of pain. She needed a distraction. Badly. "Maybe I'll give Brian a call," she decided after taking a small sip of her juice, her textbooks forgotten. She dialed his number and waited for him to pick up. Unfortunately, it went straight to his voicemail. He could be busy packing up, eating an early lunch, or still taking his exam; she wasn't sure which. "Hi, Brian!" she said overly brightly into her phone. "It's your favorite sister, calling to see where you are and how your exam this morning went. What am I saying? Of course you aced it, like you always do. It'll be great to see you when you get home today. Do you think you'll be there soon? I'll be there before heading in to work for the evening, so hopefully we'll get to see each other before then. Oh, tell Jim I said 'hi' and I hope you both have a safe trip home."
She ended the call and hoped Brian didn't think she was an idiot. That was one of the most long-winded, rambling messages she had ever left, proof positive that she wasn't acting like her normal self. She placed her phone on the table and pulled her chemistry book closer to her, reluctantly getting down to business. She had a feeling her teacher was going to give them a surprise quiz today. Students in an earlier class had been talking about it.
Halfway through the latest assigned chapter, practically needing to prop up her eyelids to keep her eyes open against the words dancing gleefully across the paper, her phone rang again. She didn't think about it, reached for it automatically, cradled it against her cheek, and answered it easily, "Hello?"
Nothing. Not a sound. Not a click. There was nothing but pure silence that stretched on and on. Instantly alert, a ball of fear starting to clutch her stomach tightly, Trixie sat up straighter, her pen slipping through her fingers. "Hello?" she said into the phone again, despising the almost desperate quality to her voice.
Still nothing but strangely eerie silence. "Is anyone there?" she demanded with fake bravado. "Speak now or I'm going to hang up." Ready to flip her phone closed, she was brought to a halt by a low, harsh chuckle on the other end, the sound sending small shivers coursing up her spine, and then the sharp click, signaling the abrupt end. She stared at her phone for an endless moment, a position she had found herself in far too many times recently, and flipped it close with trembling fingers. "What the hell," she murmured hoarsely, not one to swear but unable to come up with anything else appropriate to say.
Regaining her composure quickly, she flipped her phone back open and searched until she found the number of her last call. Yet another unknown number. Closing her eyes in a desperate attempt to block out her suspicions, she exclaimed softly to herself, "I really, really don't like this." Throwing a glance around at the other high-schoolers in the cafeteria, eating, laughing, and being cheerfully merry, a spear of jealousy went through her. Why the hell couldn't she be afforded that luxury? She wished she could be as carefree. Instead, she felt alone, completely and totally isolated, an odd sensation when in a crowded cafeteria with over one hundred and fifty students eating in the same lunch wave.
It was with shaking hands that she gathered the remains of her nearly untouched lunch, repacked them, turned off her phone and placed the objects back in her backpack. She didn't think she could handle another call, not like the one she had just received. Her prickles of unease multiplied. "What am I going to do about this?" she asked the air around her, her chemistry book laid out before her on the table, but didn't receive an answer.
Action would be better than being entangled in the multitude of her swarming thoughts. She shook her head, sending her curls bouncing, and closed her eyes against the harsh fluorescent lighting. "All right, all right. It's time to get yourself together. You can do this." The pep talk helped. She knew what she needed to do. Opening a notebook, she created a chart. It wasn't pretty but it got the job done. She wrote down the days of the week on one side and drew lines to add in the events that had happened to her on the other. "Sometime last Wednesday I was given a note, most likely when my backpack was left in the computer lab. Thursday, first hang-up at lunchtime. Friday, hang-up at home, in the evening. Saturday, there was a hang-up after twelve o'clock. Mart must have answered it. I didn't. Also, unexplained scratch on my mom's car. Sunday, Jim answered my daily mysterious call, right after one. Yesterday, hang-up as I was getting ready for school. And now one today, at lunch." She jotted down the information and studied the information with a frown before going back in to add in the days and times when she had the sensation that she was being watched.
Tapping her pen against her chin, she examined the list and didn't like what she saw. "I don't know, I don't know," she mumbled, her lips pursed together tightly. It seemed to be a series of such small circumstances, almost too insignificant to be anything serious. Yet, when it was catalogued together, staring back at her in unforgiving black and white, it made her uneasiness blossom and thrive and threaten to overtake her. Her instincts, always tuned in to the mysterious and the suspicious, were on red-alert. "Is this something to worry about? Could this be what I think it is?"
She didn't want to think about the awful possibility, resolutely pushed the potentially frightening explanation out of her mind. It took an effort but she did it. For once, she refused to jump to conclusions. She was not going to come up with an explanation until she had more conclusive facts, if there were anymore facts to gather. Part of her prayed that there wasn't. This was one time she would rather not have a mystery to solve. Taking a deep breath that was meant to be calming but did nothing more than supply her with much-needed air, she ordered herself, "Be cautious. Be careful. No looking before you leap." Then she gave a low, self-deprecating chuckle. "Even if I don't even know for certain if there is anything wrong." But she could feel something in her bones and she did not like it.
The warning bell signaled the end of her lunch wave, bringing her back into reality and propelling her into action. "It's time to get ready," she whispered sardonically "Just listen to me, talking to myself. Maybe I really am going crazy." She grabbed her things in a huff and headed out of the cafeteria, feeling more alone than ever. Normally, she tried to avoid the throng of students but today she found herself attaching herself to it and thriving within it. Safety in numbers. She was going to do everything she possibly could to make sure she was safe.