Bellamy Rising Read online

Right then, the bell rang and he stood up to leave.

  “Bye, Bellamy.”

  I was speechless. No one had seen me for anything other than a trouble maker or a suffering youth since my dad died, except maybe Iris. Or Will but only because it had never occurred to him. I gathered my things and headed to class, actually feeling a little bit better.

  Chapter 9

  After school, Iris and Will met me at my locker. I stuck all of my books inside knowing that I wouldn’t bother with homework.

  I glared at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just wanted to say hi.” He grinned.

  “Where have you been?”

  His smile faded. “Dude. Seriously? There are cops everywhere. All over you. I just thought I’d leave you alone.”

  “Get out of here, dude.” I waved him away. “The cops aren’t worried about you. Not with a murderer on the loose.”

  Will glanced around, checking to see if anyone was watching.

  “Come off it.” Iris glared at him. “You should be there for your friend. Dude.”

  “I’ll call you,” he said and ambled off.

  “Let’s get the eff out of here,” she said, leading the way through the throngs of students all trying to funnel through the front doors of the school.

  “Yes, let’s,” I said.

  As we approached the guidance office, I noticed Mr. Holland standing outside of his door. I ducked my head and tried to blend into the crowd but he’d already spotted me and started waving.

  “Bellamy!” he called.

  I waved back and barreled ahead but he pushed through the line of students until he was right in front of me.

  “Can I see you for just a moment?” he asked.

  “Uh. Sure.” I turned to Iris. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll wait out front,” she said.

  I followed Mr. Holland into his office.

  “Have a seat, Bellamy,” he said.

  A teacher popped her head in the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but can I talk to you for one second?”

  “Sure.” Mr. Holland stepped outside and shut the door behind him.

  “This better be quick,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

  I glanced around the room. I’d been in the guidance counselor’s office at least one hundred times, but I’d never paid much attention. Behind the desk stood an enormous bookshelf crammed with books.

  The door opened. Mr. Holland stepped inside and scurried around to sit behind his desk.

  “Bellamy,” he said in his most soothing voice. “How are you?” He scrunched his eyebrows with concern and rested his chin on his clasped hands.

  I shifted in my chair and cleared my throat. Heat blasted into the room causing beads of sweat to pop out on my forehead. The inspiration posters didn’t do anything but make my discomfort worse. The ‘Hang in There’ poster with the cat dangling from a tree branch must be a requirement for guidance counselors to have in their offices all over the world.

  “Um, I’m fine, I guess,” I said. Ugh. I’d already had this conversation with at least three of my teachers.

  “You know, you can talk to me anytime,” he said. “I’m good for more than just college and career planning.” He smiled warmly.

  “Okay.” I turned my attention to my shoes.

  “Seriously, Bellamy, anytime. I am a trained professional. How are you doing?”

  Though I’d been carefully policing my thoughts, blond hair flashed through my mind. I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Confused? Scared?”

  “It is a confusing time. What are you confused about?”

  I swallowed. I didn’t want to share why I felt confused. “I guess I’m really just scared and that seems confusing?” Suppressing a groan, I glanced up at him to see if he bought it and I could get out of there.

  Mr. Holland nodded slowly, his brows knit together. “I understand. How does that make you feel?”

  I jumped out of my seat like it was on fire. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Iris is waiting for me.” I rushed out of the office, leaving Mr. Holland and his sympathetic face.

  She waited in the hall, one leg propped up against the painted cement wall while she chewed on her fingernail. I grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the front door.

  “What did he want?” she asked, jogging along behind me, her hair bouncing.

  “Same thing everyone wants, to lend a sympathetic ear and find out more about the investigation like I know something, which I obviously don’t.” I burst through the door and slowed down once we were on the sidewalk.

  “This whole thing is so weird,” Iris said.

  News vans lined the sidewalk across the street from the school. Every day, Jenna Woodson’s disappearance dominated the news both locally and nationally.

  “Yes, I’ll be glad when things are back to normal . . . or whatever.” No one knew if things would ever be normal again.

  “I know.”

  The media wasn’t allowed on school property so the parking lot behind the school was quiet. The only cars left belonged to people doing extracurriculars. The gravel crunched under our feet as we walked silently across the upper lot. From the parking lot, everything seemed completely normal.

  The Subaru smelled like old McDonalds. It hit me as soon as I opened the door. Wrinkling my nose, I got in and tossed my empty backpack into the backseat. “Yuck, sorry about the smell.”

  “I’m used to it.” Iris buckled her seatbelt and put her feet on the dash with a sigh.

  “It seems worse than usual.” I started the car and put it into reverse but before I backed out of the parking space, I noticed a small white envelope tucked under the windshield wiper on the driver’s side.

  “Hang on.” I put the car in park, stepped one leg out of the car, and leaned through the narrow space between the windshield and open door so I could reach the card. Settling back into the car, I slid my finger underneath the flap to open it. Bellamy was written on the envelope. I paused to examine the handwriting. It looked vaguely familiar, which made me frown.

  “Whatcha got?” Iris asked. Not waiting to hear my answer, she yawned and laid her head back against the headrest.

  The envelope contained a greeting card with a robin on it, like something someone’s grandmother would send. I sucked in a breath and held it. I cracked the card open. To my horror, a lock of blond hair tied with a red ribbon fell out of the card and into my lap. My hand shook as I picked it up. As soon as I held it in my hand, a vision flashed through my mind. Blond hair.

  I jerked my eyes open.

  “What’s going on?” Iris stared at the lock of hair.

  “I-I don’t know,” I stammered, my voice shaking, “What is this?” Bewildered, I read the message written inside the card.

  I know who you are. I know what you saw. Here’s a little reminder about what I can do. Maybe you’re next. RB

  I read it again and flipped it over to see if there was anything else.

  “What is it?” Iris asked, leaning toward me.

  I’d lost the ability to speak.

  She snatched the note out of my hand and read it silently. “Holy shit, Bellamy.”

  I jumped out of the car and looked frantically all over the parking lot.

  Iris got out and whisper-yelled to me over the car, “What are you doing? We have to go to the police right this minute!”

  “I just want to make sure I don’t miss anything this time.” I scanned the lot. Nothing odd or out of place. Well, more than usual. The news vans stood guard across from the school. One or two students wandered to their cars where they huddled together talking and glancing at the spectacle across the street. I sat back down in the car and let my head drop onto the steering wheel. Iris came over to my
side of the car.

  “Move over. I’m driving,” she said.

  I climbed into the passenger seat and collapsed. Panic covered me and cut me off from everything else, like a bell jar.

  She leaned over me, pulling my seatbelt around and buckling it. “Are you all right?” She stared straight into my eyes.

  I shook my head. Visions of Jenna, blond hair on pale skin, blocked my vision and I sobbed.

  Iris threw her arms around me and pressed her cheek against mine for a split second. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 10

  Cars and pedestrians seemed to move in slow motion on our trip across town. The whole way, I gripped the blond braid in my hand and tried to remember how to breathe.

  Iris called my mom on the way to the police station. “Just meet us there. I’ll tell you everything.” A pause, and then she spoke again. “She’s not really okay, no . . . sure, see you there.”

  I leaned against Iris as she dragged me into the police station where I handed the note and the hair to the officer at the front desk. Less than a minute later, an officer escorted us back to Officer Lewis’s desk.

  He already had the note and the hair in evidence bags.

  “Bellamy,” Lewis said. “I’m sorry to see you again under these circumstances.”

  Officer Jackson joined us. I was so freaked out I felt numb. I sat and wrapped my arms around my stomach to try and hold the pieces together.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and rested my head against it. Iris. I blew out the breath I’d been holding. For the moment, anyway, I was safe.

  “Can you tell us what happened this afternoon, Bellamy?” Jackson asked.

  “I got in my car after school and then noticed the envelope tucked under my windshield wiper so I opened it and headed straight here.”

  “We’re going to take a look at your car and check it for fingerprints in a moment,” Jackson said. “We will obtain a hair sample and run a DNA check to see if it’s a match. It should take about a week but depending on the results, we should know soon if this is a prank or an actual threat.”

  Lewis nodded. “We’ve got people checking the car for fingerprints and other clues.”

  My insides wobbled like warmed-up Jell-O.

  Officer Jackson opened a notepad and clicked her pen. “Bellamy, I’m going to ask you a few questions.” She didn’t wait for a response. “Did you notice anything unusual at school today?”

  My mouth dropped open. One of the students was missing. What would Officer Jackson consider normal? “Everything is unusual.”

  “True. But just think. Anything strange?”

  Behind me, Iris cleared her throat and squeezed my shoulder. I got the message.

  “I, uh, heard from a couple of classmates that they think I had something to do with the disappearance.”

  Jackson pulled her mouth into a thin line. She scribbled my answer on her notepad. “Who exactly?”

  “Don’t talk to them!” I burst out. “That’ll make it worse.”

  “This is potentially a serious threat, Bellamy. We’re going to have to address this.”

  More tears pricked my eyes. They were going to talk to Cam. “Cam Walker. He implied that I knew something in homeroom this morning.”

  Jackson’s pen scratched the paper as she noted the morning harassment. “Anything else? Did you see anyone unusual in the parking lot?”

  I shook my head. “A few people standing next to their cars, talking. That’s it.”

  “Lewis?” An officer standing at the door called across the room. “Mom’s here.”

  Officer Lewis’s chair squeaked as he stood. He straightened his belt and loped toward the door.

  I heard my mom before I saw her. Her voice, shrill and angry, drifted into the room followed by Lewis and Mom herself. She stopped talking as soon as she saw me and rushed over. Before I could say a word, she wrapped me up in a fierce hug. A tiny bit of relief trickled through me, as if someone had turned on a low-pressure water hose. I closed my eyes and breathed in her familiar scent, lavender and vanilla.

  She let go and sat down next to me. Mom’s lip trembled, which happened when she was angry or scared.

  Iris stared into space, biting her lip. I touched her hand and she jumped. “I’m sorry.”

  She pushed her hand through her unruly curls. “It’s fine. I’m going outside. I just need some air.” Shoving her hands into her pockets, she made a beeline for the door.

  “See you in a bit?” I called after her.

  Iris, already halfway to the door, turned back. “Yep.”

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Foster.” Officer Jackson reached across the desk and shook her hand.

  Mom ignored Jackson. “What’s going on?” she asked me.

  “A note on my car. It said I was next.”

  Mom glared at Jackson. “What are you going to do about this?”

  Right then, Lewis returned, pulling off his latex gloves. “We lifted a few prints, but they are probably yours. We’ll compare them to yours. We, uh, have them on file.”

  Jackson explained the situation to Mom in clinical terms.

  “Is Bellamy safe?”

  Jackson and Lewis glanced at each other as though they were telepathically arguing about who got to answer.

  Jackson replied, “We have no reason to think that Bellamy isn’t safe. This is likely a prank. But we’ll be pursuing it seriously and following up on the information she just gave us.”

  Mom huffed. “Is that it?”

  Jackson cleared her throat. “We will send an officer to check on your home a few times a night until we get the test results back. I’ll personally call you as soon as they come in. Please contact us if you need anything.”

  They exchanged a glance, then Jackson turned back to me and nodded.

  “Just keep us posted if anything else happens,” she said. “Anything at all.”

  Chapter 11

  Mom hustled me to the passenger’s seat. “I’m following you to Iris’s and then we’re going straight home. Or we can leave your car here.” She frowned and chewed on her lip.

  “I can drive from there.”

  Mom kissed me on the forehead like she did when I was little. “Iris, take care of her.”

  Iris nodded from behind the wheel, her eyes wide.

  We were silent all the way to her house. I stared at the window. The houses and trees blurred by but I didn’t see them at all.

  She broke the silence. “I’m sorry I left you in there. I guess I freaked out.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Once we got to her house, she hugged me. “I’m a little scared for you, Belly.”

  “I’m fine.” I sounded surer than I felt.

  Mom got out of the car and ran to the house. I moved into the driver’s seat and took a few deep breaths before backing out. Mom followed me home.

  Once inside, she locked all the doors. “Kitchen, now.”

  Meredith was in the kitchen making a grilled cheese sandwich in her pajamas. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  Mom gave me a death glare. “I do not call a threatening message and a lock of hair nothing. Talk. Now.”

  I filled Mom and Meredith in on the details, of which there were few.

  Meredith sat heavily in a kitchen chair. “Wow. Do you think the hair is Jenna’s?”

  “Meredith, can you leave us for a minute?” Mom didn’t take her eyes off me.

  “Uh, sure.” Meredith shot me a look before leaving the kitchen.

  “Is there anything else you need to tell me?” Mom asked as Meredith’s footsteps faded.

  “What do you mean?”

  Mom put her most serious expression on and dre
w her lips into a thin line. “I know that you’ve had a difficult time since Dad. And that some of your friends have a difficult home life . . .”

  “What are you asking me?”

  “I just want to know if you can think of anyone who might have done this. Maybe you are afraid to—”

  “No, Mom. I really don’t.”

  She nodded. “Okay. I’m going to make dinner.”

  She got up from the table and opened the fridge. She stared inside, unmoving. There wasn’t that much to stare at. I got the feeling she wasn’t really thinking about dinner.

  I flew out of the kitchen and up the two flights of stairs to my attic room. It was already dark so I plugged in the Christmas lights that were strung from the ceiling. I threw myself onto the bed and let the tears come.

  Sleep eluded me. I stared at the ceiling going back over the visions to see if I had missed anything. Then I went through a mental list of my classmates.

  “Cam. Would he really do anything like that?” I asked the empty room. I didn’t think so, but then I really didn’t know him any more than he knew me.

  Every noise sent me burrowing further under the covers. A branch from the maple tree outside my window tapped the window giving me a minor heart attack. It only helped a little to know that my whole family slept peacefully downstairs. It took a tremendous amount of willpower to stay in my bed, although I didn’t know where I’d go if I got up.

  Once the sun rose, I got out of bed, still exhausted. I dragged myself down to the kitchen where I made a huge pot of coffee and poured a bowl of sugary cereal.

  Andrew stomped in. “Should you really be eating that?” he snarled.

  “Shut up,” I said. The exchange was very typical these days. Since our dad died, Andrew had become a total asshole, where he used to be at least an okay brother most of the time.

  “But, really, do you want to get fat? All that sugar will make you fat.”

  I glared at him before returning my gaze to my bowl. “Stop fat-shaming me, you dickhead.”