Chapter 19

Opal had waited until the halls had cleared at the end of the school day. She stood in front of that janitor's closet. Slipping her fingers around the pendent in the pocket of her jeans she leaned forward to take a closer look at the panel on the door. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. She dug out the amulet, fumbling with the chain sliding down her fingers. Pinching it tight she set it into the depression with slow precision. The dial on the pendent's face began to spin, hidden gears zipping. With loosely clasped hands huddled close to her chest Opal watched in wide eyed curiosity. It made a full circle, but nothing happened.

She waited frozen in space and in time, the silence of the hallway ringing in her ears. With uncertain hesitation she reached out her fingers, twitching just before they brushed the cool metal of the pendent's dial. The gears made one last click and the golden piece jarred, sliding out from the depression to clatter on the ground like loose change. With a confused hum Opal scratched her head as she reached down to retrieve the amulet. Turning it over in her palm she studied its crevices and cracks, scraping out old dirt with her fingernail. Perhaps it was finicky like her old Nintendo cartridges, just needed the dust loosened up before they would play. She shinned the metal on her shirt for good measure before she held it up to the fluorescent lights for inspection.

Looking up she met brown eyes squinted in quiet thought, the boy with the purple and yellow polo. She sucked in a breath through her nose, widening her eyes at him. What was his name again? It was something simple, started with J, Jace, no… Jay, that was it, Jay. Jay was watching her through careful eyes, his breathing coming in slow and controlled breaths.

"Sorry," she said, looking down to her feet. Ramming the pendent into her pocket she motioned to step around him and his dark skinned friend, she could return later when there weren't curious bystanders watching her.

"Wait," he shot out a hand to grab her wrist, "What were you looking for, did you get it?"

"Oh, no, I wasn't looking for anything," she shook her head, twisting her hand from his grip, "I mean, I was just curious, but… never mind, there was nothing."

The relief that flooded his face and slouched his shoulders was immediate and obvious. He nodded and gave her a small smile before he looked to the boy beside him. They both exchanged a knowing look and a nod.

"Hey Opal," the smaller boy held out his hand, "I'm Odie, one of Herry's friends."

"Hi," she shook his hand for a brief moment and shifted on her feet as she waited to be dismissed from the conversation.

"Herry keeps talking about you, nice to finally put a face to the name," he said.

"Yeah," her interest in their talk pricked with his comment, "Umm, he talks about me?"

"Sure, you were his English partner weren't you?"

"Oh, yeah," she looked down to her feet, the disappointment ploughed though her stomach.

"So, you play violin," he prompted.

"Yeah," she said, her simple answer giving him nothing to expand off of. He groaned and looked down the hall to where Jay had disappeared, he better get back here with Theresa fast.

"Play piano too?"

"Mmm-hum," she nodded.

Oh, what else was there to talk about, "The weather's been nice lately, longer winter stays off the better eh?"

"Yeah," she shuffled away from him a step. Odie took an anxious glance over his shoulder one more time. His eyes lingered down the hall as his brain reeled for a conversation topic. Just as he was about to look back to the small girl squirming in discomfort with his presence Theresa and Jay appeared from around the corner, thank all of the gods. Trying to converse with this girl was a challenge on all of his social skills. She must have opened up more to Herry, because as of right that second he did not understand his best bud's attraction.

He took a step away as Theresa came up, allowing her to brush past him. Opal jumped like a mouse cornered by a cat when the redhead reached out a hand to press her fingers into her forehead, the other taking the pendent from her pocket. She attempted to slip away from Theresa, but before her foot could lift off the ground her shoulders went limp and her eyes glazed over.

"Opal?" Theresa took her fingers back and asked with soothing softness, leaning down a little to look her in the eyes, "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Ahh," the blonde shook her head in confusion and blinked in rapid succession before answering, "Class just ended."

"Kay," a pleased smile tried to poke its way through on her face, but she suppressed it, reaching out a hand she patted a spot on Opal's head cushioned by her frizz of curls, "I guess we hit you pretty hard, it's been about fifteen minutes since school ended."

"Oh," she put her hand on the spot Theresa had, but it didn't hurt.

"This isn't yours is it?" Theresa held out the pendent she had confiscated from her seconds before, "It was just on the floor right there beside you."

Opal shook her head in slow and subtle movements.

"Alright, I'll drop it off at lost and found," Theresa said with a smile as she slipped it into her pocket, "Do you need a ride home? I can give you one."

"I live way out of town, I can just call for one," she said.

"Don't worry about it, I'll give you a ride," she took Opal's hand and started off down the hall. She attempted to wriggle her hand free of Theresa's grip as she stumbled along after her down the hallway. When the redhead came to an abrupt halt she skidded to a stop that placed her nose a hair behind Theresa's back, in her distraction Opal was finally able to free herself from her grip.

"What's going on?" the distraction had a very familiar voice.

"Ah, giving your friend a ride home," Theresa offered in weak response as she looked up to Herry.

He narrowed his eyes at her and glanced over to Opal, who was clearly distraught as she rubbed her head. Grabbing Theresa's arm he dragged her out of earshot and demanded the full story. Sucking at his teeth while Theresa talked he looked back over to Opal, she was watching them with curious eyes, her plump lips barely parted.

"I'll give her a lift," he said, smacking Theresa's arm with the back of his hand as he stepped over.

"I don't need a ride," Opal said to him the instant he finished speaking, "Can I just borrow your phone?"

He ignored her comment and reached out a hand to place on her head with hesitant care, his heart pounding with the prospect of touching her, "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," she slipped her hand under his to rub the spot that still wasn't hurting.

"Let me give you a ride home," he said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder to the general direction of the parking lot, "I don't want to leave you alone if you have a concussion."

"You think I have a concussion?" he watched her face turn white as the blood drained away, dammit, he hadn't meant to scare her.

"No, no, I'm sure everything's fine," he said quickly taking back his words, placing a hand on the back of her shoulders to nudge her down the hall so she wouldn't see the self mockery that contorted his face into a scowl.

"You're sure?" she asked, looking back with the blue of her eyes flashing under her eyelashes, "Have you had a concussion before?"

"Many times," he said, huffing out a laugh through his smirk and kept pushing her down the hallway. He let his hand linger on her shoulder when she fell into a steady step, keeping it there for an extended moment before he dropped it to his side. She was quiet as they walked to his truck, keeping her swirling thoughts to herself as she let herself into the vehicle. He fished out a wire from the consol and passed it over, instructing her to put her iPod on. Odie had just recently weird up his radio with the adaption. She nodded and took the device from her bag, setting it on shuffled. The first song that shuffled on pounded his speakers with the heavy instruments of metal music. Herry paused his fiddling with the ignition to look over, the corner of his lip pulled up in confused disgust, like a cockroach had suddenly scurried across her face.

"What?" she asked.

"What is that?" he asked like he might if he was referring to a centipede nestled in a pile of day old laundry.

"Black Plague," she told him on a voice barely a whisper. He raised an eyebrow at her in complete shock, so she defended, "Metal has the best guitar riffs."

"I never would have pegged you as a metal head," he said, finally looking out the window and signaled out of his parking space.

"Fine, I'll switch it," she skipped to the next song and a chirping came over the speakers.

"What the hell is that?" he asked her, legitimately confused.

"Umm, it's an oven bird," she told him.

"You have bird calls on your iPod?" he asked unbelieving.

"Technically it's a bird song," she responded.

"And the difference is?"

"Songs are done at breading season to defend territory, and you know…"

"Get laid," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah," she nodded, cheeks flushing, "Calls are everything else and generally more simple sounds."

"Okay, but why do you have them?"

"Birds are really good singers," she responded in sheepish defense, giving her shoulders a sharp shrug.

"You have the strangest shit on your iPod," he concluded as he shook off the remainder of his surprise.

"Fine, you musical coward, I will put on some country," she scrolled through the device and put some on, "Happy?"

"Yes, thank you," he smiled, shaking his head at the spectrum of her iPod's library. Their conversation fell to a content end and the reminder of the drive was filled with the twang of country singers. Outside her house Herry flicked off his truck to walk her to the door, asking one more time if she was feeling alright. He could see the confusion that etched into her face whenever he asked. She would rub the spot on her head that obviously wasn't hurting and tell him she was fine.

"Just lay down for a bit," he told her, leaning against the doorframe.

"Sure," she said.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, you're sure I don't have a concussion?" she asked again.

He started to answer, but was cut off when she was pulled from the doorway. Her father gripped her arms and kneeled down to look her square in the eye.

"What happened?" he asked her. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. When she shifted her gaze over to the doorway John's concerned expression turned to irritation as he followed his daughter's eyes. Herry had faced countless monsters, stared into the eyes of an evil god without so much as batting an eye, but now, as he stood under John's angry gaze, a nervous sweat trickled down his back. He felt his shoulders shrug up in instinct, he offered Opal's father a small smile while he waited in anticipation for him to say something. John simply repeated his question.

"I wasn't there," he said, "Theresa, my friend said it was a field hockey puck."

"You were playing field hockey?" he turned to ask his daughter in utter disbelief.

She shook her head, and the confusion on his face deepened. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Dropping his daughter's arms he reached for a set of keys sitting on the table in the landing.

"Thanks for bringing her home Herry," John said to him and gestured for Opal to follow him out the door.

"Where are we going?" she asked him as she shuffled back outside.

"The emergence room," he said.

"Dad," she stopped to complain, tossing out her hands, "I don't want to go to emerge, we'll be there all night."

"No buts missy," he sent her a glare from over his shoulder and pointed to the car, "Come on."

Hunching her shoulders she groaned and tossed Herry a stare that said, 'this is entirely your fault.'

He shrugged and sent her an innocent smile, suppressing his laugh until she was securely seated in the passenger seat of her father's car.