Wander Dust - Book 1

Chapter 7 - My Stalker

It’s Thursday. Señor Belmont stands in front of the class conjugating verbs. When I glance out the window, he stands in a brown corduroy pea coat, staring up at me from the courtyard. A black beanie covers his head, while his warm breath exhales silvery clouds that swirl around his face—his very beautiful face.

The thought of him outside my window should put me on edge because I’m still unsure whether he falls into the category of friend or foe. However, I’m completely calm with him here. I realize this is a completely irrational, irresponsible thought with so many unexplained questions. How has he found me? Who is he? Who sent me his photo? And why is he here?

When I sink into my chair, heat rushes into my cheeks. I lean into my schoolwork and try to concentrate. Before I realize it, my eyes drift back to the frost-rimmed window, and I’m staring back at him. His face isn’t as unreadable as it was at our first meeting. In fact, he smiles back in the same charming way he did in his photo.

When Mr. Belmont walks past, I pretend I’m working, but really I’m thinking about the boy, wondering about him. Something pulls me toward him, and even when I look away from the window, I see him in my mind. Here, while I sit in class, his perfect image blocks any attempt at studiousness.

Now that I can inspect him from afar, he doesn’t really appear to be dangerous. I decide that when he grabbed my sweater that day at the L, he must have been trying to conceal me from the Grungy Gang. He really meant to help.

He’s visited every morning this past week. I try to ignore him. Despite his good looks, his daily appearance is starting to creep me out a little. It should be, anyway.

The thing is, every morning he just stares, like he’s trying to communicate with his eyes. He waves this morning, and I’m so sure his gesture is not for me that I hunch back into my seat, mortified. When I get up enough nerve to look back out, he’s still there, digging his hands into his pockets, looking back up at me with those eyes. Even from this far, they leave me unhinged and giddy. Quietly, they ask me to join him, and I decide that tomorrow, I just might.

•

I’m a block from the school when the morning bell rings in the distance, making me late for first period Spanish. But timing is essential if I want to accidentally run into Stalker Boy.

Maybe this is a mistake. He seems friendly, but what do I know? I do call him Stalker Boy for a reason. What if he is dangerous, like a real stalker? Or he really is part of the Grungy Gang? There’s no way to be completely sure.

My brain is off, running in frantic directions. Now I’m positive this is a stupid idea. I’ll confront him and he’ll kill me, or I’ll go and find he’s really been staring at someone else every day. That would be extremely embarrassing.

When I finally step into the courtyard, my nerves are wound so tight I might explode. I decide to let the meeting play out. Whatever happens, happens. This is the best I can do. He’s just a boy, and I’m just a girl. A very stupid one.

I stop in my tracks and scan the snow-covered courtyard. He’s not here, anywhere. I relocate to the corner of the school, lean against the building, and crouch behind the bushes. I’m freezing, but from this vantage point, I can get a clear view of the boy if he shows up, without him knowing.

Snow crunches nearby. I hear one step and then another. Someone walks up behind me, and I know I’m busted. Crap! What will it be? Detention? Expulsion? A teacher? The principal? Mona will be so ticked.

I refuse to look up right away because I’m formulating an excuse in my head. Quick, I need something. But it’s too late. A strong presence stands over me. The towering person casts a shadow around my feet.