Crimson High

A/N: Again, thanks to the constant reviewers who keep coming back to this story and reading it. I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Chapter six

That Monday, I pulled my Peugeot into the school parking lot. As I got out, I spotted Grace at the front door of the school. I walked over to her. "What's going on?" I asked, noting the crowd gathering just inside the door.

Her face was grim. "You should see this."

I followed her through the crowd, and stopped in my tracks. Littering the hallways were hundreds of pieces of white paper. I picked one up. It was simple black writing printed onto white paper, but I understood the meaning behind it perfectly. "I'm proving myself to Teresa."

Grace read it and frowned. "We still haven't worked out what it means, or who did it, or why your name is mentioned. It's just weird, really."

I had my suspicions, and I slid the piece of paper into my pocket. I turned to Grace. "I think I know who did this, and why."

"Who?" she asked. "Why?"

"I promise to tell you later."

She frowned, but I turned and headed up the hallway. I passed the janitor at the end of the hallway. He was wearing his customary red overalls, and so we used that to identify him. No-one knew his real name, so we just called him Red John. He was sweeping up the paper, and frowned when I passed by. I continued to walk and soon I spotted who I was looking for. "Patrick Jane," I said, stopping in front of him.

"Teresa," he said. "How are you this morning?"

I ignored the question. "Really?" I asked, pulling out the piece of paper. "This is all you could come up with?"

He smiled as he took the paper from me. "I thought that you would like the surprise."

I raised an eyebrow. "So you thought to litter the entire school in annoying bits of paper? It will take weeks for Red John to find all of them. You know how he hates a mess to start with."

He shrugged. "It was a reminder to everyone else that I'm going to prove myself, no matter what."

I sighed and turned away. "This is completely unnecessary."

"I knew you would say that, but that's fine. What you deem to be necessary and what I deem to be necessary are two completely different things."

"I realise that," I countered. "But you didn't need to be so extravagant."

He shrugged. "I'm a showman. It's what I do."

I turned away. "Patrick, just be a little more subtle next time."

He put his hand on my shoulder. "Teresa, I will prove that this is real. I promise you that."

I walked away, leaving him standing there. He would have to do better if he wanted to win me over. But I suspected that this was just the beginning.

My suspicions were confirmed when I opened my locker. Inside sat a simple black box, like one from a jewellery store. I was hesitant to open it, and so I slid it into my bag. I reached my English class, and Grace looked expectantly up at me. To avoid having to tell her what was really happening – and that I knew who was behind all of it – I pulled out the black box. Her eyes went wide. "What's inside it?"

I shrugged. "I haven't opened it yet."

She watched as I put the box onto the table and eased the lid open. Nestled in a bed of red velvet lay a golden pendant on a thin gold chain. It was flat and oval, with three tiny hearts punched through it. She gasped and I blushed. I pulled it out and turned it over. My name was engraved onto the back. "It's beautiful," murmured Grace.

I nodded. Patrick had obviously spent an embarrassing amount of money trying to impress me, an amount of money that would have done well back home. I put the pendant back into the box. Grace frowned. "Aren't you going to put it on?"

I shook my head. "Why? I don't even know who it's from."

She sighed. "Teresa, somebody obviously likes you and wants to impress you. It would be sad if you didn't at least show you appreciated the effort."

I shrugged and slid the box back into my bag. Mr Bertram entered, and the lesson began. I thought about the pendant. Patrick didn't need to spend that amount of money on me. I knew that that money could have been used more wisely, and I felt annoyed at the waste. The lesson ended, and I followed Rigsby to science with Miss Hightower. As I entered, she came over to me. "I was told to give you this," she said softly, handing me an envelope.

I sat down in my seat and opened the envelope. I was shocked at the contents. I pulled out the note and opened it.

"Teresa," it said. "I know you have probably spent the last lesson mulling over the cost of the pendant I gave you, and so I decided to ease your mind and give you the equivalent amount of money in cash. Just a small donation towards supporting your brothers back home. I hope you appreciate my efforts, Teresa. Patrick."

I felt my hands shaking as I pulled out the money. Six hundred and fifty dollars. I slid the money back into the envelope and sat in stunned silence for the rest of the lesson. Not only had Patrick actually decided to help support my family back home, but he had spent six hundred and fifty dollars on a pendant for me. My mind was racing when the bell rang. I headed out to my locker, and opened the door. Inside I found another note.

"By the way, Teresa, don't bother going to work today. I call them and they gave you the day off. You need a rest from daily life."

I put the note, along with the money and the pendant, back into the locker and shut it. My next lesson passed in a blur, and soon I was walking with Cho to the cafeteria for lunch. As we got to the door, I stopped walking. Patrick sat with Grace and Rigsby at our table in the corner, talking earnestly to both of them. Cho tugged my arm. "Let's go see what he wants."

I nodded and followed him across the room. Patrick glanced up and spotted me walking towards him. He said one final thing to Rigsby before handing him something. He then got up and left the table. Cho and I glanced at each other before sitting down with Grace and Rigsby. "What was that about?" I asked.

Grace glanced at me, and smiled slightly. "He told us to give you something when you got here. Was he the one who left the notes, and the bits of paper?"

I nodded at her. Her eyes went wide. I frowned as Rigsby handed me the object Patrick had given him. It was a flat gold box with a fancy name written on the outside. I pulled it open and found a thick silver bracelet inside. It was a twisted rope and looked very expensive. I stood up and headed in the direction he had gone. As I stepped through the doors, I saw him standing at the end of the hallway. "Patrick," I said, walking over to him. "Giving me expensive gifts won't prove anything except that you have very little regard for money and spending."

He smiled. "I know that, but I'm proving myself, remember? This is just trial and error for me. I'll find something that proves to you what you mean to me."

I shrugged, and a question popped into my head. "Why do I have the day off?"

He grinned at me. "So I can spend the rest of the day proving myself."

I shook my head. "Patrick, I don't want you to spend money on me."

He tilted his head and studied my face. "You're worried because you're being spoilt while your brothers are suffering back home. Don't worry, I'm sending them money as well. Whatever I spend on you, that same amount goes back to them. You can just relax and have fun."

I felt myself beginning to tear up. I blinked rapidly and looked away. Patrick watched my reaction to his words and gently touched my face. "You don't have to do this," I murmured.

"Don't cry, Teresa," he said gently, pulling my face up. "I'm doing it because you're worth it to me." I stepped back, and he dropped his arms. I still clutched the box Rigsby had given me, and Patrick smiled. "I take it you got your gift."

I nodded and looked down at the box. "So, what are we doing this afternoon?"

He raised an eyebrow. "That's a surprise. I'll pick you up from your house after school."

He touched my cheek gently before turning around and striding away. I was left alone in the hallway, clutching the box tightly with both hands.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

I waited outside my apartment for Patrick to arrive. I gripped tightly to my purse as I waited. Soon, the blue Citroen appeared around the corner, and it stopped in front of me. Patrick left the engine running as he got out. He walked around the front and opened my door for me. I smiled as I stepped up to the car and got in. He joined me inside and drove away from my house. I put my purse onto the floor and sat back in my seat. I glanced down at my jeans and attempted to calculate when last I had washed them. They were looking a little grimy, and I knew they were due for a wash soon. Patrick glanced across at me. "I don't care what they look like. As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

I blushed, and he laughed. "I don't exactly have a huge amount of clothing," I said, watching the landscape speed past. "What I do have barely lasts me a week. I can't help having to re-wear a lot of it. People don't really notice, so it's fine."

I watched him shrug. "I notice, and it's not fine. That's why we're going here first."

He pulled off of the road and drove into a mall parking lot. He turned off the car and watched as I fidgeted with the seatbelt. "Patrick," I said again. "You don't have to. I'm surviving with what I have. Really."

"Teresa," he said, taking my hand. "I want to do this because I care about you. I worry that you're not eating, that your clothing isn't even lasting you a week, and that you're wearing yourself out with work. Please just humour me and let me do this for you. Please, Teresa."

I looked down at our joined hands, then back up into his face. His mesmerising blue eyes held mine, and I nodded. He grinning blindingly and got out of the car. I followed him into the mall, and he headed towards a big clothing store. At the door, he grabbed my arm. "Pick whatever you want."

I felt overwhelmed as I walked slowly through the aisles. I didn't think I had seen that much clothing in one place before. I picked up a shirt from the rack and held it out at arm's length. It was purple, and I liked the style. I glanced at Patrick. "If you want it, take it."

I nodded, and clung tightly to the shirt. I moved along slowly, and Patrick laughed. "What's so funny?" I asked, looking around nervously.

He grinned. "You look so lost, like the shelves are going to jump out and bite you. Here," he grabbed several items from some of the shelves. "Try these on and see what you like or don't like. We can put back what you don't like, and I'll get you what you do like."

I nodded as he handed me the clothing. He gave me several more items as we walked through the store. We walked together in the direction of the dressing room. "Patrick," I said. "Thank you."

He smiled. "Show me when you've tried something on."

The next two hours was taken up with me trying on clothing, and deciding what I liked. I settled on a surprisingly large amount of clothing, and Patrick grinned. "See?" he said as we left the store. "I said you would enjoy yourself."

I felt myself smile. "This was fun."

I carried the bags with me as we went out to his car. He opened the trunk and I put them in. "Now," he said. "You need food in your house. Real food, not the crap you keep buying for yourself."

I blushed again. "Grocery shopping?"

He nodded, pulling into another parking lot. Half an hour later, we returned with several bags of food. Patrick turned the car in the direction of my house, and I leant back against the seat. "Patrick," I said, staring off into the darkening sky. "Thank you for today."

He took my hand. "You never asked me how I knew about your brothers."

I shrugged. "The thought never crossed my mind."

He sighed. "I was in the coffee shop that day. I heard you telling Grace your story."

I stiffened. He knew pretty much the whole story. "So you know why I'm in California."

He squeezed my hand. "There is one thing, though," he said, glancing at me. "I got the impression that you didn't tell Grace the whole story. That some details were omitted."

I nodded. "I kept some of it to myself. To protect her."

He sighed. "My story is different. I was born and raised in the carnival. My dad used me as a sideshow, and taught me cold-reading, hypnosis. He called me the Boy Wonder. Basically, I was a fake psychic. My mother left the carnival when I was ten, and took me with her. I've been living with her ever since. I haven't seen my father since we left. But I still have the skills I was taught. I could probably guess what you omitted."

I pulled my hand away. "I don't think you can."

He didn't even turn his head. "You left out some details to protect Grace and the others from your past. It was something horrific, and very recent. You wouldn't have left your brothers if it weren't absolutely necessary, so it must still be happening. It has something to do with your father, which is why you don't trust me."

I sat very still, not saying anything. I didn't want to give away how close he was.

He went on. "I know he was prone to drinking, and so I can only deduce that he abused you physically. Probably beat you quite violently on occasion. You took most of the beatings to protect your brothers."

My breath caught in my throat, and Patrick nodded grimly. "My dad's back in rehab again," I murmured. "The boys are with friends up the road from the house, being cared for until he comes back out again."

I absentmindedly brushed my fingers lightly over my lips. I remembered the countless times I had stared at myself in the mirror and seen the bruises of another rough night. The last time it had happened, my bottom lip had been split open. I had needed two stitches. Patrick reached over and grabbed my hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it softly. "I promise to do everything in my power I can to protect them. I promise, Teresa."

My hand tingled at the contact, and we pulled up to my apartment. "Thank you for the day, Patrick. I really enjoyed it."

He laughed and turned off the car. "You really think you're going to get rid of me that easily?"

I shook my head. "No. You're quite persistent. Would you like to come in?"

He nodded, and helped me carry everything into the house. I packed my new clothing into the tiny cupboard as he clonked around in the kitchenette. I could smell food cooking, and I came through to see what he was making. "Pasta, Teresa," he said. "I'm treating you to a real meal."

I smiled. "I'm almost done here. Call me when it's ready."

He nodded, and I went back to my clothing. Ten minutes later, he called my name. I grinned as I walked through to the other room. The meal was divine, and I savoured every mouthful of it. Soon, he stood up to leave. "See you tomorrow, Teresa," he said at the door.

I nodded. "Thank you, Patrick."

He pulled the door shut, and I was once again alone with my thoughts. He hadn't quite proved himself yet, but he was close. I turned off the light and got into bed. I soon slipped into sweet black oblivion.

A/N2: Please tell me what you think of Jane's efforts. A review or two would be nice too. I appreciate opinions or criticism. Thank you all for reading.