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Somebody Save Me

Chapter 3

"What's wrong?" I hear Cooper ask.

I stop staring at the phone, and turn my head to see Cooper staring at me… rather intently. "Huh?" is all I manage. But you really can't blame me for not having more to say, or some kind of facial expression because I think I may have just been threatened. Actually, "you're next" when talking about a dead guy means one thing. I've definitely just been threatened.

I've never been threatened before! Well, not really. Back when I was Heather Wells: Pop Teen Sensation, I'd received the occasional "your songs suck and make me want to kill you" type of letters, that I found most disturbing, mixed in with the occasional stalker type letters like "I think I love you. Mr. Easy Street better stay away because if I can't have you, no one can." Equally disturbing. But other than that, I've never really been threatened.

Well, okay, if you want to get technical, I guess my old boss did try to kill me a few months ago, when I realized that she was killing girls in my dorm. I mean residence hall. And then after that, I did sort of get mixed in with a frat crowd that wanted nothing more than to decapitate me. But again, that all started because I'd been investigating someone from my hall's murder. Aside from the guy today, there haven't been any murders around me lately. Everyone at Death Dorm - I mean Fischer Hall - is doing just fine, being-among-the-living-wise. So why would someone want to kill me? Oh god, was that guy that drowned today a warning to me? Oh, god, oh god…

"Heather, tell me what happened." Cooper's no longer resting his back casually against my bed. He's turned to face me completely and is resting on his heels, his elbows on the top of my bed. He's looking at me expectantly.

I open my mouth to tell him everything, but… can't. I'm not sure why. Normally when Cooper uses that calm, authoritative tone, I spill everything out. I'm pretty sure I would tell him my weight, pants' size and favorite color when he uses that tone, if he really wanted to know it.

Why can't I tell Cooper about the phone call? Or about the guy at the pool today? I tell Cooper everything! Well, almost everything. I still haven't told him about that time his brother and I had farewell sex (let's face it, that 's what it was) on his hallway runner. Cooper's hallway runner, I mean.

And I know if I tell Cooper this, he'll do what he always does. He'll make me feel like everything will be okay; he'll make me feel like he'll protect me somehow. Which would be great, except…

"Heather, don't even think about not telling me," he says, shaking his head, his pale blue eyes piercing through me, never leaving mine. "Something's wrong. What is it?" he asks, and I can hear the impatience in his voice.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" I ask, my voice still a little weak.

"You didn't seem to know who just called you, you've gone white as a ghost, and you can't talk, which for you could only mean that something's wrong," he says.

"I could just have nothing to say!" I say defensively.

"You never have nothing to say," he argues, pulling the phone out of my hand.

"What are you doing? That's my phone!"

Too late. He's stood up, and he's way too tall for me to stand a chance. Unless…

I stand on my mattress and reach for the phone, which he's now got up to his ear. He obviously found my last received call and hit the little green phone button. Standing on the mattress, I'm now taller than Cooper and stand a better chance at retrieving the phone, except that he's rolling his eyes for me, smirking a little, and backing away. I reach still… and almost fall off the bed onto my face. But he reaches out to catch me, and my feet land perfectly planted on the ground. One of Cooper's large hands is firmly holding both of my wrists. Firmly, yet… completely gently. And I feel electricity pass through us as I stare up into his face. He furrows his brows and ends the call, looking down at me.

He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and quietly clears his throat as he looks into my eyes. I try to tell him, through Vulcan mind control, to bend down and lay one on me. A romantic kiss, I mean. But instead he lets go of my wrists like they've burned him or something, and he takes a half-step back.

"Pay phone," he says, handing my cell back to me.

"Oh," I say, shrugging, trying to focus on the threat, and not Cooper not kissing me. "Um, did it say where the payphone was located?" I ask, casually.

"The area code is Jersey," he says, crossing his arms, looking at me knowingly. He knows I'm scared. Like I said, he's got the uncanny ability to read me. Well that, and I'm sure my eyes are the size of saucers right now, because, well… New Jersey's kind of close. I was hoping the guy had called me from Guadalajara or somewhere really far away. Not New Jersey!

"Who was it? What did they say?" Cooper asks. "Heather?" Cooper presses, when I say nothing.

"I'm not sure who it was. It was a guy. He sounded creepy. And he said I'm next," I say, all in a rush.

"You're next?" he asks. "For what?"

" To serve dinner to the homeless down the street on Saturday," I say sarcastically. "How should I know?"

"So… that's it? Some creepy guy told you that you were next?" he says, saying the word 'creepy' in a way that I can only assume is poking fun at me. And that's… well, it's just not what I need right now.

I already don't want to tell him about guy at the pool, not that I know why I don't want to tell him. Maybe because our relationship is so different right now. I feel like because of my relationship with Tad, Cooper and I are more distant. Yet right before the phone call from the creepy guy, it felt like we were closer than ever before. He was actually communicating with me! Sure, it felt like he was giving me the kind of lecture that a big brother might give to a little sister, and that's probably exactly how he thinks of me. But I can't deny the excitement I felt when he said those nice things, because it showed me… well, how much he really cares.

Now's not the time to ruin it all by telling him that someone wants me dead. That'll accomplish two things only. Everything about communicating actual feelings will get put on the backburner (possibly forever) because we'll have to focus on finding my mystery phone man slash psycho killer. And he'll undoubtedly realize that I'm a high risk girl, as this would be the third time this year someone's tried to kill me. And who wants to date a high-risk girl? Giving your heart to someone else is scary enough. Thinking constantly that that person's head might turn up at dinner without her body is a whole other ballgame.

I look at him and see that he's smiling. Not a big smile; the kind I see when he laughs. But a warm smile, like he's onto me. He knows I'm having some kind of inner struggle, like a person with multiple personalities.

"Yes," I say, finally. "That's it. I'm just a big baby, because someone called me and sounded totally creepy, and I'm sorry, but the words 'you're next' are a little freaky. Especially if you happened to watch I Know What You Did Last Summer with some of the sophomores in the residence hall last week."

I can't look at him. I hate lying to Cooper. And I know - I'm not stupid - that Cooper will find out everything eventually. But… not tonight. I've dealt with enough tonight.

His smile fades, though, and he takes another step toward me. "Is that really everything, Heather?" he asks, seriously.

"Yes," I spit out, still not looking at him.

"Look," he says, "I'm sure it was a crank. That happens all the time in this city."

"I'm sure you're right," I say. Although I know he's wrong. God, why and I such a spaz, that I can't just tell him the whole story? And… they're coming. The tears, I mean. I managed to fight them off the whole time Cooper's been in my room. And now they want to fall?

"Okay, well, I'll let you go to bed," he says.

"Okay," I say, my voice shaky.

I can't be sure, because I'm not looking at him, but I swear I see his hand approach my face, nearly touching the skin on my cheek. But at the last possible moment, it's gone. I look at him. His hands are both by his side and he's looking at my kind of… well, sympathetically.

"I'm sorry for making fun of you," he says genuinely. "But you really have nothing to be afraid of. Okay?"

I nod.

"Okay," he says. "I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

And then he leaves. I glance outside my windows quickly, just to be sure the Jersey Freak couldn't have gotten into the City super quickly and now stands outside my window with a knife or a chainsaw or something. There's nothing there. I release a long breath and crawl into bed, thinking one thing.

"Cooper's wrong. I have everything to be afraid of."

When you're living on potentially borrowed time, you try to really make every moment last, which is why I gave myself an extra half-hour to sit with Magda and eat my breakfast. She was pleased to see me choose the classic bagel and cream cheese with bacon as well as coffee and cocoa concoction this morning.

"This is more like you," she says. "What changed? Did you break up with Tad? Did you make out with Cooper last night? Both? What happened?"

I roll my eyes at her. "I just think that we should all do what makes us happy. After all, you only live once," I say happily.

"Oh god, someone wants you dead again," she says, holding a patriotically-nailed hand to her chest dramatically.

"Mags, why do you always assume I'm a target for killers?"

"You usually are," she points out, a perfectly-shaped eyebrow arched knowingly. "So, I'm wrong?" she asks hopefully, when I say nothing.

I open my mouth to lie. Why am I lying to Magda and Cooper, two of the most important people in my life? What's with me? Do I want the killer to get me or something? No! I want to live!

"I'm right!" she says, horrified! "Heather, what happened?"

I tell her, in a rush, everything. I tell her about the guy at the pool, and about my conversation with Cooper and how upset he got when I put my fork down, and how he told me I shouldn't be with Tad, basically, to which she added, excitedly:

"Because you should be with him, instead!"

"He didn't say that. I just think he's a little protective, as always. He doesn't want me with some guy that wants me to change," I say. Even though I hope to all higher powers that Magda is right, and that's what Cooper meant, on some level.

I proceed to tell her about the phone call, and about how I lied to Cooper afterwards.

"Heather, you do realize that you're stupid, right?" she asks, when I'm done.

"Well, now, that's a bit harsh!"

"You live with a trained PI, who's also in love with you - even if just from afar, so far --"

"He's not in love with me," I stammer.

"Well, he cares about you. A lot. Although-I-think-he's-in-love-with-you," she says in a rush, connecting her words. "He'd want to know, investigate and keep you safe. But for starters, he'd definitely want to know. Oh, Heather, he's going to be so mad when he figures out you lied," she says in her best "tsk tsk" voice.

"I'll tell him the truth later," I say, getting up. "I promise."

I leave and head back to my office. I don't know what to do to keep busy. My mind's a mess. The tiniest noise has me jumping out of my seat. I quickly grab the mail in my inbox and begin sorting through it.

I open a few letters from disgruntled parents, as well as our Finance Department (looking for an explanation for how my stop at Joe's Dairy last month was somehow work related and needed petty cash - oops.)

I open another letter that I assume is another Angry Parent, but discover, to my abject horror, is not:

Dear Heather,

Nice chatting with you last night. I still have my poster of you in that blue leopard print mini skirt hanging on my bedroom wall. God, you look so hot. You've kind of let yourself go a little, huh? Although, even though you've put on weight, you still are quite beautiful… there's just more of you now. But don't worry - you can be thin again, it's never too late for a Sugar Rush, my sweets.

And do remember, if I can't have you, no one can.

Love,

Your One & Only.

I flip the page over, looking for more. Something to lead me to this guy; to catch him. He's clearly an obsessed fan. I find myself wondering, quite disturbingly, if I ought to be flattered that I still have an obsessed fan somewhere out there.

But re-reading the letter, I decide that I can go without a freak like this being out there in the world, any day. Who could possibly still be obsessed with me? It's absurd! I'm so yesterday's news. And I don't do music anymore. The papers don't write stories about me. I am completely uninteresting and normal now. Why go through the trouble of stalking me? Like I said, I had stalkers back in the day. But now? Definitely absurd.

I look at the postmark. Of course. New Jersey. Where else? This creep had to have sent this to me before our phone conversation.

None of this added up. How could he know where I work, what my cell phone number is, and that I'd be a Fitness World - in the pool, specifically - at that precise time?

"Hey, babe."

I look up and see Tad standing in front of my desk and jump, gasping. I hadn't heard him come in! "Oh! Tad!"

"Who else would call you 'Babe'?" he asks.

"Someday I hope that Cooper does," I think. But I don't say that. It'd probably be rude.

"Everything okay?" he asks, when I say nothing. "You seem… jumpy."

I nod. "Fine. Just one of those days, you know?"

"Yeah. I know how you feel. How absolutely awful was yesterday? I couldn't sleep all night," he says. He still looks visibly shaken. I remember how pale he looked sitting over the prone, lifeless body. He was probably more upset about it than I was. If he knew that the guy was murdered as a threat to his girlfriend, that might throw him over the edge. And, of course, he might dump me, running in the other direction. Which wouldn't exactly break my heart, I have to say…

"I brought you this," he says, holding a banana toward me. "We'll hit Fitness World again later. No need for a little drowning to hold us back from getting in shape." Except he's already in shape. Clearly he means me. "Oh, and I also have this for you," he says.

He hands me a piece of paper. "A gig?" I ask, reading its contents.

"Yeah. I figure you can slowly get back in the limelight with small gigs. Playing your own awesome songs."

Something about a grown man saying awesome is just so not… awesome. "Listen, Tad. We should talk." I put the banana down and look at him. It's breakup time. And not a moment too soon.

"Actually I have class," he says, smiling. He has no idea what I want to talk about obviously. "See you later, Babe," he says, running out of the room.

"Yeah, maybe," I say quietly.

I breathe, wondering what I'm going to do about him. What do I say? "I hate how you make me eat bananas and drink water and fall off treadmills at awful gyms?" Well, I'll figure out something.

I glance at the letter staring at me from my desk and grab the phone. I should have done this last night. I dial Cooper's cell phone and wait. I hear ringing in my ear… and in the hall outside the office.

I stare at the phone for a second, hearing the ringing in my ear, now right outside my office door.

Cooper himself walks in, looking at his phone, and then at me.

"I was just calling you! We need to talk," I say.

"I was just going to say the exact same thing," he says. He looks mad.

Oh god… what did I do now? I think a killer's enough for any girl to have to handle in one day.