Bellamy Rising Page 10

  Ana Sofia came from behind the counter and wrapped me up in an impressive bear hug for someone so small. “How are you, my friend?”

  “I’ve been better. It’s pretty complicated.”

  “Ah, I know what you mean,” she said. “Too many feelings all stuck together like old spaghetti.” Ana Sofia said a lot of things that made perfect sense without making any sense. “Are you coming back soon? I love Ling, you know I do, but she is driving me nuts. She is too slow.”

  I hoped Ling hadn’t heard that since she was two feet away making my coffee. She must have because she rolled her eyes.

  “Maybe after the funeral.”

  “Okay. Can’t wait to have you back.”

  “I’ll keep you posted.” I sounded like my mother.

  Ana Sofia smiled. “Tell your mama hi for me.”

  “I will.” I grabbed my food and coffee and headed home.

  Mom, awake but barely, glanced over her shoulder when I came into the kitchen. She smiled when she saw the coffee. Her eyeliner from last night was smudged and purple circles outlined her eyes. “I didn’t know you were gone.” She eyed me up and down.

  “I woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep so I went to get coffee.” I busied myself with handing Mom a latte and a donut.

  “Who was here last night?”

  “I don’t know,” I lied. “Maybe a friend of Meredith?”

  Mom nodded and grabbed a coffee out of the carrier. “Except she said it was your friend.”

  Busted. Crap. “Oh. Uh, yeah. My friend Mason was here for a while. That’s all.” I attempted to remain cool and collected while maintaining eye contact. Also, WTF, Meredith?

  Mom narrowed her eyes at me. “When did he leave?”

  Fidgeting, I told the truth. “This morning.”

  “I’m not raising any babies,” Mom said with her eyebrows raised.

  I groaned. “Nothing happened.”

  After taking a big gulp of her still-hot coffee, she winced. “Is he nicer than Will?”

  “Much nicer.”

  “Good. Will isn’t that nice.”

  “I know.”

  Mom put down her cup and stared out of the window. When she didn’t say anything else, I trudged upstairs with my coffee.

  I hadn’t been alone much since my visit to Miss Octavia. It seemed like a good time to practice some of the things she’d said would help me deepen my intuition. I sat cross-legged on the bed. I tried holding my hands the way I’d seen yogis do it, but I felt silly. Instead, I rested my hands on my knees and closed my eyes.

  Clearing my mind didn’t work. Thoughts raced through my mind faster than I could keep track of them. I sighed with frustration and tried to reset. Nothing that remotely resembled meditation happened.

  I threw my pillow across the room in frustration. “This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.”

  Chapter 19

  School let out early on the day of the funeral. The funeral home, the only one in Louisa, overflowed with hysterical teenagers from the lobby onto the sidewalk outside before the memorial. The drama club, the band, the rednecks . . . everyone was there. I’d certainly expected to see cheerleaders, but the whole school turned out. More than one stoner wore an actual suit. Suits and dreadlocks make for a weird combination. The teachers of Louisa High all wore black. Mr. Holland cried and hugged everyone in his path while Mr. J’s head hung lower than usual.

  Before the standing room only service began, Iris and I tucked ourselves away in the back. Leaning up against the wall, I crossed my arms in a self-hug and stared straight ahead. The sheer number of flowers overwhelmed the already large room. Roses, carnations, daisies; they covered every surface.

  When the high school choir started to sing, a tear slipped down my cheek. I hadn’t known Jenna at all, but she would never come back. I’d never take her coffee order again. It was so final. After this, everyone would move on until she was nothing more than a memory. Something people whispered about when they saw her parents on the street or at the supermarket.

  The family walked slowly down the aisle toward the front of the chapel where the casket, a dark-polished wood, sat covered by a spray of pink roses. A large picture of a smiling Jenna with sparkling blue eyes sat in a gold frame surrounded by flowers. That’s how everyone in the room would remember her. Mason appeared behind his mother and step-father. His head stayed down.

  A somber man in a suit stood up at the pulpit after the song. He cleared his throat and blinked his eyes rapidly before he began to speak. “We are gathered here to remember Jenna Woodson and her extraordinary life. It isn’t for us to understand what happened to her but to know that God will judge, harshly, the one responsible. Dwelling on this tragedy won’t help us in our grief. Once again, only God can do that.”

  After several long passages from the Bible and an even longer prayer, Maggie Malone made her way to the front to give the eulogy.

  “Jenna Woodson was more than just the co-captain of the cheerleading squad, vice president of the senior class, captain of the tennis team, and an honor student accepted on early admission to Penn State. She was a great and loyal friend.”

  The cheerleaders, all dressed in uniform and sitting on the row just behind Jenna’s family, let out a collective sob. The eulogy went on in the usual way. After Maggie, another one spoke and then another.

  I thought of the only other funeral I had been to: my dad’s. It was practically the same as Jenna’s. Just switch out a few adjectives and the services would have been the same. You never hear about someone being a miser or an asshole, or both. I suspected that even if someone had majorly jerky tendencies, it wouldn’t be mentioned.

  What would it be like to tell the truth? I thought about what people might say about me if they had to tell the truth. “She’s kind of a loner, and when she does hang out, it’s with the stoners. She never smiles, has no school spirit, and she’s a terrible student.” At least that was the truth. Not that there wasn’t truth to Jenna’s eulogy, there was just more to her than that. Everyone has a dark side. Hers may have been the reason she died.

  As I watched each person speak, I couldn’t help but wonder if one of them was her killer. My gaze drifted across the rows ahead of me. Mason’s head was ducked. It could be someone in this room.

  As the funeral progressed, a dizzy, sick feeling washed over me and I planted my feet on the ground.

  “Let us bow our heads.” The preacher stayed silent for what felt like hours. When he did start speaking, I didn’t hear a thing he said. Instead, I heard a song. It was muffled almost as if I was underwater and I couldn’t quite make it out, though it sounded vaguely familiar.

  I jerked my eyes open in time to see a spinning room. An earthquake shook my body but everyone around me stood there, still, heads down, eyes closed. I bolted for the door, making an attempt at being quiet. Bumping into a few people as I went, I whispered “Sorry” like a mantra. As soon as I eased the door shut behind me, I broke into a run and didn’t stop until I got to the sidewalk.

  Hyperventilating on the sidewalk, I blinked back choking sobs, wrapped my arms around myself, and rocked back and forth.

  “You okay?”

  I jumped at the voice. The sun wasn’t out but it was so bright outside that I squinted up at the voice. “Uh, I’m fine.” I shielded my eyes with my hand. Some skinny goth kid stood in front of me.

  “Crazy in there, huh?”

  Nodding, I sniffed and wiped my nose on my sleeve for lack of a tissue.

  “You’re famous, you know?” The kid, who looked vaguely familiar, sat down next to me.

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “Just that everyone’s talking about you.” He spoke a bit breathlessly, but not in the accusatory tone I was used to hearing. “They’
re saying that you were involved.”

  My mouth hung open as I stared at him, unable to respond.

  “So were you?”

  Rage coursed through my veins. I jumped up. “Are you serious? If you are joking, what the hell kind of joke is this? You really think this is funny? If you aren’t joking, then you’re insane. Really. Get out of here and don’t ever talk to me again.”

  Jumping up, he stared at me, terrified, before he hustled away.

  Dread settled in the pit of my stomach. Dread of going back to school. I dreaded the next vision. I dreaded having to face the reality of the situation. Leaning against the wall, I tried to slow my breathing to a normal pace.

  I knew I should go back inside, but I couldn’t. Three times I walked up to the glass doors of the funeral home and three times I started shaking uncontrollably. Giving up, I sat on a wooden bench and waited.

  When the doors opened, the pallbearers, all football players, carried Jenna’s coffin to the waiting hearse. Her family followed along behind. Mason glanced up at me but quickly averted his eyes. Whether he didn’t want people to talk or because things were weird, I didn’t know. Not that it mattered.

  Iris appeared by my side and grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.” I let her lead me to the parking lot.

  Chapter 20

  Things got back to normal, well, as normal as they were ever going to be. The general consensus was that Jenna had met someone online and got mixed up with a dangerous criminal. A sad and unfortunate thing that didn’t make any real sense and wasn’t based on any actual evidence.

  Jenna was dead. I still couldn’t understand my visions. The heavy weight of responsibility, something I tried to avoid, pressed me down into the earth. Everyone still whispered about it in the aisles of grocery stores and a dark cloud hung over Louisa, but it seemed like everyone was trying to push it down out of the present and into the long-forgotten past.

  Mason and I hadn’t really hung out since the night at my house. I missed him but hanging out with him seemed like it would be too weird. He must have felt the same way because we both kept our distance.

  I’d gone back to work and it felt good to have a way to fill up my time. I kept going to Miss Octavia. I knew she was the only one who could help me. She guided me through meditations that were designed to help me get in touch with my clairvoyance and clairsentience as she called it. She told me again and again that I was special, that I had a gift.

  “Do you see the dirt road?” Miss Octavia asked one afternoon.

  I sat on the floor cross-legged across from her in her living room. Eyes shut tight, the now-familiar image of the dirt road filled my mind. I took a deep breath. I had that feeling like something might finally be about to happen.

  “You travel down the dirt road, noticing every detail. The moon high in the sky casting a glow. The trees forming an arch over the narrow passage.” Her voice, soft and comforting, helped me relax with the aim of traveling further down the dirt road.

  She whispered, “What do you see, Bellamy?”

  I whispered back to her, “It’s the same as it usually is. Dark, the trees are bare and the full moon is peeking through the branches. I can’t see anything except what the headlights are illuminating.”

  “How do you feel?”

  Frustrated. I’m ready for something to happen.

  “Anxious,” I said. With a sigh, I tried to lose myself the meditation. Slowing my breath, I concentrated on each one. In and out. In and out. I allowed myself to fall deeper and deeper into the darkness. The road stretched out in front of me, lonely and barren. A shiver traveled up my spine. The feeling shifted from loneliness to fear. Panic filled my chest and I had to remember to breathe.

  “I feel like a deer caught in the headlights. Like I almost know what is coming, but I don’t know how it will play out.”

  “If you feel comfortable, try and sit with that.” Miss Octavia was adamant that this should not be a terrifying experience despite the subject matter.

  I did. The feeling stayed but the vision changed. The picture changed, just like in an old movie. The dirt road faded away, replaced with the hallway at school. The halls were empty but school seemed to be in session. It felt quiet, but busy and productive. I waited. Nothing. And then I felt the presence of someone else. I started to turn around when it all stopped suddenly and my eyes snapped open.

  “It was someone at school,” I yelped.

  “So who?” she asked. It was a rhetorical question.

  With a shrug, I said, “I could try again.”

  Miss Octavia shook her head. “No. Don’t overdo it. You can’t force these things.”

  I put my hand over my heart like that would stop it pounding. “Okay.”

  She put her hand over my hand. “It won’t do you any favors to be afraid. Just keep living. Just keep trying. You’ll get there.”

  Maybe she put a spell on me, but I nodded. Realizing the time, I said, “I’ve got to go. I’ll be late for work.”

  Miss Octavia waved me out. “Come by next week.”

  My thoughts were all over the place while I drove to work. “It has to be Ethan,” I reasoned, talking to myself as I drove. “That makes the most sense. He’s a football player with a temper, just the kind of guy that you read about in magazines when they snap and kill someone. Yet, that seems so obvious. Cam is horrible enough to be a murderer, but I somehow doubt it’s him. He’s not smart enough,” I reasoned.

  A car pulled up next to me and I pretended I wasn’t having a full-on conversation with myself.

  A few minutes later, I parked in my usual spot and jogged through the alley, not so menacing during the day, and into the back door of the coffee shop.

  “You’re late,” Ana Sofia called to me, but she winked.

  I glanced around the shop and was startled when Iris caught my eye. She and Mason sat in the back at side-by-side tables. I was surprised to see him there.

  “Hi.” I waved.

  “Where have you been?” she demanded.

  “Hi, Bellamy.” Mason smiled with one corner of his mouth and then ducked his head down to continue whatever it was he was working on.

  “Hi,” I said to the top of his head. To Iris I said, “I just had to run an errand for my mom.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. She knew I was lying but Mason didn’t notice. It’s hard lying to everyone all the time.

  “I guess I’ll get to work. You guys want anything?”

  Iris gestured at her to-go cup. “Ana Sophia took care of us.”

  “Okay. I’ll be up front.” As soon as I started walking, I sensed a presence behind me. Iris.

  “Where were you really?”

  “Just doing some stuff.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said and started to walk away.

  “Hey wait!”

  “What?” She was pissed, which I hated, but I just couldn’t share everything yet.

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “Really?”

  I grabbed her hands. “I promise, just as soon as I can, I’m going to tell you everything. Literally everything.”

  She huffed, nostrils flaring, which meant she was mad but about to give in. “Fine. We are doing a huge history project together. My mom isn’t home so we couldn’t go to my house because rules. And no one wants to hang out at his house, including him.”

  My heart sunk. I’d sort of hoped he wanted to see me. Iris shrugged and went back to her table. Grabbing a rag, I absently wiped down the counter.

  Mason left just before I got off work. He gave me a shy smile on his way out the door. After we closed, I drove Iris home.

  “I’m surprised your mom let you stay out this late,” I said.

  “She relaxes the rules when I have a project du
e,” she said, her voice full of frustration. Directed at me, no doubt.

  “Maybe you can tell her you’re going to a study group every Friday night.”

  “Ha. She’s not that gullible,” she said.

  I put the car in park in Iris’s driveway and said, “Don’t be mad at me. I didn’t want to talk about it in the café, but someone is helping me . . . figure out these visions.”

  “Who?”

  “Her name is Miss Octavia,” I answered.

  She was quiet for a moment. “What does she do? How did you find her?”

  “I found her on the Internet. She is a tarot reader but she seems to know a lot about this. We are trying to sink deeper into my vision so maybe I can see something . . . real.”

  Iris nodded, slowly. “Okay.”

  “I’m just trying to figure all this out,” I babbled. “She thinks I have the gift of second sight and that if I work on it, I might be able to really see something.”

  “Okay. Thanks for that and the ride. I gotta go,” Iris said and opened the car door. Pausing, she turned back. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

  “I do know. I’m sorry.”

  Iris didn’t answer. She just got out of the car and left.

  Chapter 21

  When the bell finally rang to signal the end of class on Friday afternoon, I slammed my book shut and left. I had math the last period of the day, which was brutal. Completely fried, I wandered to my locker after class. Preoccupied with my potential weekend plans, I flung the door open and crammed my math book into the mess. I grabbed the door to slam it shut and noticed a small white envelope peeking out from behind my Chemistry book. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. I reached inside my locker with trembling hands and retrieved the note from its hiding place.

  Sliding my finger under the sealed flap, I prayed to whomever that the note was from my English teacher. Or anyone else. Except it was the same card as before. I’m watching you and waiting for you. I know you didn’t tell my secret, for now. If you do, your mommy won’t be able to keep you safe. You would be so beautiful with a rope around your neck. Xoxo RB