Believe Me; I'm Fine...Maybe [ON HOLD]

Chapter Four

      No. There's no way. He cannot be the same person. It's impossible. No one else survived. Just me. That's it. 

     But he just seemed so familiar. It doesn't make any sense. 

     Maybe I was hallucinating. I'm crazy. Yeah. That works. I just don't know how...

     "Señorita? Mikaelah!" A slightly annoyed voice snaps, knocking me out of my thoughts. 

     "Huh?" I ask, dazed.

     "I asked you a question." My normally calm Spanish teacher, Señora Gutierrez, seems to be losing patience with me.

     "Oh, um..." I desperately look around the room for someone to help me with the question that I didn't hear. The only person that's paying any attention to me is Jeremy, who looks extremely smug, that permanent cocky smirk plastered on his face.

     I sigh and give up. No one is going to help me. "No sé." I finally answer truthfully. In case you don't know Spanish, that means "I don't know."

     Sra. Gutierrez shakes her head, looking a little disappointed in me. My face flushes slightly red due to embarrassment. Spanish is normally my best class and one of the very few that I actually take interest in.

     Suddenly, I hear someone from a few rows over erupt into extremely obnoxious laughter. Turning toward the sound, I glare at Jeremy, my expression full of pure hatred. Seriously, if looks could kill, he'd be long gone. He winks and makes a stupid l kissy face at me. I just roll my eyes and turn back to the front of the room, disgusted. I attempt to pay attention and concentrate in the class, but the Spanish words seem to just roll off my tongue with absolutely no meaning at all. My mind begins to slowly wander back to my previous thoughts, only to be interrupted again, this time by a wad of paper hitting my arm. 

     I scowl and reach down to pick the paper up off the floor, knowing exactly where it came from. God, what the hell does Skye see in this douche bag? I un-crumple the note, and my heart stops as I read Jeremy's messy scrawl.

      I know your secret.

     Complete and utter shock fills my body as my mind tries to comprehend exactly what he means. My lungs begin to scream for air and I realize I've been holding my breath, seeing as I have temporarily forgotten how to breathe. I take the time to count my heartbeats in attempt to calm myself down, just how I learned in therapy  when I was younger. Once my heart rate and breathing are back to normal, I pick up my pen with a slightly shaky hand and respond to Jeremy's note.

       I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.

     I toss the paper back to him, trying to be optimistic and hope that he'll actually believe my "clueless" act. I'm not entirely sure who I'm trying to fool, though, what with my miniature panic attack. Jeremy's smirk grows, and he lets out a quiet chuckle as he reads my response. He picks up his pen to write back but doesn't get anything on the paper before the bell rings.

     As I'm packing my things, Jeremy stops by my desk, his face completely serious, kind of scary, actually, all traces of humor from before gone.

     "I think you know perfectly well what I'm talking about." And with that, he's out the door, leaving me with nothing to do but stare open-mouthed in disbelief as he walks away.

    "Mikaelah?"

     I turn toward my Spanish teacher who is now walking over to me with a concerned look on her face. My eyes flit around the room, and I come to the realization that I'm the only one still here.