Pure (Book 1, Pure Series) (10 page)

           
He stared at me for a moment.
 
Then he backed up a few steps and turned to go.

           
"Wait!" I said.
 
"Are you a student here?
 
How will I find you again?"

           
He stopped and looked at me.

           
"I’m sorry if I scared you," he said.
 
"You should forget you saw me."

           
He turned away again.

           
"Wait!" I said, feeling panic rising in me.
 
"If you know something about Galina and this Gleb Mstislav, then I need to talk to you."

           
"No," he said firmly.

           
"I need to talk to you," I said stubbornly.

           
"It's better if you don't."

           
"But what if I need to?" I said in a rush.
 
"What if the danger that Galina hinted at comes?
 
What if I need to talk to you then?"

           
Something flickered in his eyes that I couldn't quite read.

           
"What is your name?" he asked.

           
"Katie Wickliff," I replied.

           
"Finally you answer a question," he said.
 
"If you need to talk to me say 'Katie Wickliff summons you.'
 
I will find you."

           
He turned and disappeared around the wall.
 
I heard the lock on the door click again.
 
I rushed around the wall and out into the hall.
 
I looked both ways through the crowd of students.
 
The strange guy had vanished.

           
I glanced back at the door to the girls' bathroom.
 
Something that wasn't quite right had been tugging at my mind.
 
As I looked at the door now I realized what it was.
 
The lock was on the
outside
of the door.
 
It was designed to keep people out, not lock them in.
 
There was no way he could have locked the door once he was inside.
 
And if he'd locked it from the outside, then he wouldn't have been able to get in.
 
How had the door come to be locked?

           
I was in something of a daze after that.
 
And in first period I began to have doubts.
 
Had I really spoken to the strange guy, or were my hallucinations getting stronger?
 
Then I remembered the feel of his shoulder under my fingers.
 
He was definitely real.
 
So who was he?
 
And what did he know about the past that my grandmother refused to discuss?

           
No matter what was going on, I knew that I definitely couldn't tell anyone about what had happened.
 
Having visions was crazy enough.
 
Having visions that turned into real people was certifiable.
 
And the craziest part was that I hoped it would happen again.

           
As I walked into English, I noticed that Bryony and Annamaria were standing listlessly by Irina's desk.
 
I figured that Irina must be out today.
 
Without their leader, the two of them didn't seem to know what to do with themselves.

           
Mr. Hightower was still subbing, but after giving me an over-bright smile and greeting me warmly, he didn't notice me again after that.
 
Instead, he skipped role as he had hinted he might yesterday and gave the class a free period.
 
I had plenty of work to do for my other classes, so I kept busy until the bell rang at the end of the period.
 
I was so deeply engrossed in my work that the bell startled me.

           
As students started filing out, Charisse bounced up to my desk.
 
"Hi!"

           
I looked up at her smiled.
 
"Well, you're cheerful today."

           
Charisse dimpled.
 
"I have good reason to be."

           
I stood up and swept my books into my backpack.
 
"Does your good mood have something to do with your big secret?"

           
"It does," Charisse replied.

           
I slipped my backpack on.
 
"Does that mean you're going to tell me what it is now?"

           
Charisse moved toward the door.
 
"Not yet."

           
I hurried after her.
 
"Charisse!"

           
She threw me an innocent look over her shoulder.
 
"What?"

           
I caught up to her, and the two of us filed out into the busy hallway.

           
"Charisse, you promised," I said.

           
She giggled. "I know.
 
I
will
tell you, but just a little later.
 
It's so crowded now.
 
And it'll be crowded at lunch, too.
 
I want to tell you when it's just you and me.
 
Let's make an appointment to meet at the picnic table after school."

           
"Charisse, I can't believe you're dragging this out."

           
"Please, Katie.
 
This is really important to me.
 
And I have a question to ask you afterward, so you should prepare yourself."

           
"All right," I said.

           
"It's nearly the end.
 
I promise," Charisse said.
 
"So how are you doing?
 
I haven't heard much about what's going on with you lately."

           
I looked away from Charisse.
 
The strange guy from the mirror rose in my memory.
 
I wanted to tell her about him, but I knew I couldn't.
 
I'd already decided that the whole thing was too crazy to talk about.
 
If I hadn't been able to tell her about the hallucinations, I certainly wasn't going to be able to tell her that the hallucinations had become real.
 
I cast around for something to say.

           
Charisse seemed to notice my discomfort.
 
"Do you still think Mr. Hightower is creepy?"

           
Charisse's guess about what was troubling me was incorrect, of course, but I was thankful for the diversion.
 
"I don't know.
 
Maybe 'creepy' is a strong word.
 
I'm just a little uncomfortable with how hard he tries to make people like him.
 
And why doesn't he call roll?
 
It's like he's encouraging people to cut class.
 
I doubt if he even noticed that Irina wasn't in English today."

           
Charisse blinked in surprise.
 
"Do you think Irina was cutting class?
 
She's as much of a bookworm as you are."

           
I shook my head.
 
"I don't think she cut class.
 
But what if something happened to her or someone else?
 
What if it was important to know whether or not a student made it to class?
 
I'm convinced he doesn't know the names of most of the people in there."

           
Charisse shrugged.
 
"Maybe he just wants to make his time as a sub as easy as possible."

           
"Maybe," I replied.
 
"I just think he's not doing us any good."

           
"Don't despair," Charisse said smiling.
 
"Mr. Del Gatto will be back soon, and then you can bask in his grumpiness once again."

           
Charisse stopped.
 
"Well, this is my hallway.
 
I'll see you at lunch."

           
As she walked away, I found myself scanning the crowd for the strange guy from the mirror.
 
He hadn't said whether or not he was a student here, but he was in the school, and he certainly looked like a student.
 
Somebody must have seen him.
 
Maybe I would ask around.

           
The strange guy was still on my mind when I walked into the cafeteria for lunch.
 
I found Simon sitting alone.

           
I sat down next to him and glanced around.
 
"Where's our favorite couple?
 
This is the first time I've beaten them to lunch."

           
"They're being mysterious again," Simon replied.

           
"So, you noticed that about them, too?" I asked.

           
"Yeah," Simon said.
 
"Branden said he had something to tell me today."

           
I looked at him sharply.
 
"Charisse said the same thing to me.
 
Do you have any idea what it is?"

           
"No."
 
Simon looked down at his tray and stabbed at some lettuce.
 
Then he looked up at me.
 
"They aren't my favorite couple, you know."

           
I met his gaze.
 
"No?"

           
"No," he replied firmly.
 
"We are."
 
He went on in a rush.
 
"I want to make it up to you for my spending so much time with Irina this week.
 
Would you like to go see a movie this Saturday?
 
I really miss spending time with you."

           
As Simon said the words, I felt a strange tug on my heart – as if something were pulling me away from him.
 
I was suddenly irritated with all of the strange things that had been happening to me lately, especially with the weird feeling that kept pushing me away from Simon.
 
I'd known him forever, and he was a good friend.
 
Why shouldn't I spend time with him?
 
I smiled at him.
 
"I'd like that."

           
Take that crazy feeling
, I said to myself.

           
Simon's answering smile made my heart feel glad.
 
Maybe we could actually work as a couple.

           
A backpack hit the table with a resounding thud, causing the trays to jump.

           
"Now, who're the googly-eyed lovebirds?"

           
I looked up to see Branden grinning down at us.
 
With one big hand, he pushed his backpack out of the way and slid his tray into place.
 
Then he sat down heavily.

           
Charisse sat down next to him.

           
"So glad you could join us today," Simon said.

           
"We had business to attend to," Branden replied loftily.

           
"So, how are you doing today, Simon?" Charisse asked.

           
Simon feigned shock.
 
"I can't believe you're actually talking to me.
 
Don't you and McKenna want to spend the entire lunch period staring soulfully into one another's eyes?"

           
"Very funny," Charisse said.

           
"Actually, we have a lot to talk about today," Branden said.

           
Charisse kicked him under the table.
 
"Don't tell them.
 
I promised Katie I would tell her when it was just the two of us."

           
Branden grinned.
 
"What?
 
I was just going to tell them the news about Mr. Del Gatto."

           
I was suddenly alert.
 
I had a feeling something was wrong.
 
"What's the news about Mr. Del Gatto?"

           
Branden leaned forward confidentially.
 
"The story is that he's missing."

           
I was startled.
 
"What do you mean 'missing'?"

           
"I mean nobody knows where he is," Branden replied.
 
"Travis Ballenski told me.
 
His dad is a cop.
 
It turns out that Mr. Del Gatto's neighbor, Mrs. Hannity, called the police after there was a lot of crashing and screaming over at his house.
 
The police went out and found that the back door had been pulled off its hinges and Mr. Del Gatto was nowhere in the house.
 
The police have been looking for him, but they haven't found him yet."

           
Branden's story left me feeling chilled.
 
"When did this happen?"

           
"Monday night," Branden said through a mouth full of food.

           
"Was it a home invasion or something like that?" Simon asked.

           
Branden shook his head.
 
"No one knows exactly.
 
But the cops don't think so.
 
Nothing seems to have been taken.
 
But then, Mr. Del Gatto lived alone, so there isn't anyone who can say for sure if anything is gone."