Cheshire Girl

Ch. 21

I sat in my car for a few minutes, not really moving.  Was this shock?  Todd was on and the heater was on, but I was still cold. 

                A few kids were walking around in the parking lot, talking or hanging by their cars.  The teachers came out next, also either talking to each other or heading to their cars.  I would have to leave in a few minutes, but I couldn't make myself move just yet.

                Beatrice left me a clue.  That much I was certain… even if I almost died for her to give it to me.  She knew where the thirteen pages were, and they had something to do with the Walkers.  Ethan?  Could he have them?

                I shook the idea away.  Ethan had nothing to do with this.  If he did, it would have to be that Ian Walker had or was given the pages.  If that was the case, then why did Beatrice give him the pages?  What did they say?  Were they still in Walker possession?  Were they still even intact?  Or all together?

                I jumped and screamed really loud when my phone buzzed in my jacket pocket.  Thankfully, no one was looking at me.

                I cleared my throat.  "Hello?" I said, sounding normal.

                "Bella, it's me."  Oh—Mom; I didn't check the caller ID.  "Where are you?"

                "I'm still at school, warming up Todd.  Why?"

                "Oh.  It's just getting late.  How was the thing with Ethan?"

                The thing?   The project….  "It was good.  Did some boring old research.  It was… boring."

                "Well, make sure you stop and get that milk and come home.  I'm making spaghetti!  With the bacon bits in the meatballs?  Just how you like it."  Mom sounded really excited.

                I felt nauseous.  "Sounds… appetizing.  I gotta go.  The parking lot's clearing out."

                "Be safe, Bella.  Bye."  She hung up.

                I put my phone away and started leaving the parking lot, joining the line towards the one exit gate.  A few rebels left the line and went out the entrance gate, to the many honks of protests from the teachers.  I didn't feel bold enough to join them.

                I hated stopping by the store.  I felt like everyone was looking at me.  This couldn't be shock.  It was paranoia.  Almost drowning probably wouldn't have been a big deal if a ghost hadn't been responsible for it.

                Once I was safely in my car in the store parking lot, I did my best to dry most of my disgustingly tangled hair with Todd's heater.  I'd also bought myself a soda, and drank some of it, mostly to get my empty stomach hungry enough to eat.  If this was shock or paranoia or whatever, I assumed eating would be necessary.  I couldn't not eat my meatballs in front of Mom (did that sound weird?).

*

When I got home, I did as I said.  I dropped the milk off in the kitchen and ran upstairs before Mom saw me too closely, yelling to her I was going to take a quick shower.  She didn't suspect a thing.

                Of course, in the shower, I kind of broke down and started crying in the hot water.

                I wished I was in one of those TV shows where the main teenagers go through all kinds of crap—like almost dying—but then are over it by the next episode.  I was exhausted emotionally and physically, and maybe the hot water wasn't helping.