Say Hello to the Stars

Chapter Nine

I'm yet again stuck in a boring lecture in Mr. Every' s class. He's trying to get us interesting in the lovely art of poetry. Oh gosh. I mean, I'm sure it's intriguing, but this guy teaches with literally no emotion and he's sucking the fun out of everything, and I can't bare to hear another word of it.

He pushes his round glasses up. "Does anyone have any poems you'd like to share with the class?"

Johnathan's hand shoots straight up. Weird.

He stutters a little, "I-I'd like to share my poem, if that's alright with you.."

Mr. Every doesn't hesitate when he says that it would be marvelous of him to do so. Go figure. The guy loves it whenever we do these things, and if one of his least favorite students wants to recite a poem, by all means, don't stop him right? I'd never have the guts to go up there and do that, I'm scared enough having to read a sentence out loud to the class.

As he walks up to the front of the classroom, he glances and smiles a little.

Is he blushing...?

"To the girl who read," he starts, "I couldn't help but gaze at you today.

As you turned through the pages of the book you were reading,

As a hint of a smile played across your lips,

You looked so relieved, so at home.

When I saw you smile, I had to fight the urge not to.

Because your smile is contagious, and so very rare.

I wanted to walk up to you," he locks his eyes with mine, "and tell you how beautiful your eyes were as they shed over the story you lived, the character you loved. They lit up with happiness and laughter.

And your hair, oh gosh, where do I begin?" he pauses for a second. "Your hair fell in soft waves around your shoulders, as the sunlight danced across your brown hair.

In that moment, with you sitting there with that book, I knew.

Just knew that, that I'm in love with that girl.

That quiet girl who sits at the back of the classroom, afraid to talk to anyone, because she is unable to.

That girl who always has her head in the clouds.

That girl who always has too much on her mind, never looks where she's going, and is quite a nerd if you think about it."

He stops for a second. His breathing patterns are off; his nerves are getting the best of him.

"I've always thought I'll be alone.

That's how I've lived so far and, to be honest, I liked it.

Until I saw you; until I heard the soft sound of your laughter.

Until I saw your emotions.

How they all come so unexpectedly, it's a prize in itself.

You changed me. You showed me how unexpected and beautiful the world can be.

Today, you fell into a pool of wonder.

And I fell in love with you."

Before I can react, I realize I'm blushing as the whole class applauds. I'm so caught off guard it doesn't even hit me as appalled. I mean Johnathan. The guy who goes to big parties and parades around the school like it's his stage - likes me? No one has ever liked me before, well unless you count Jonathan back in kindergarten. Other than that, I've never gotten much attention, and that's perfectly fine with me.

Everybody's staring at me. They all know who he's talking about.
I know who he's talking about. I can't do this. I pray that I don't start getting tons of attention. If that does happen, I'm hopping on a train to nopeville and then run until I reach a dead end.

This is insane.

All I wanted was to be the girl in the shadows; the invisible one.

Now look: my brother's gone, I'm most likely taking part in a theatrical production, as well as being apart of the gossip of the year. Pretty ironic, if you ask me.

I quietly ask to leave the room, and then without realising, I've figured out that I've wandered into the girls bathroom. I jam myself into one of the stalls and just sit there. My backpack rests snugly on top of my lap. Ten minutes pass. Then twenty. I don't move a muscle. My brain starts to wander into an unknown world, which is exactly what I need right now. Thirty minutes down; people are probably starting to notice my disappearance. Forty. The bell rings and students start to flood the halls. A few girls walk in, discussing makeup and how they're mascara is smudging. When they exit, I make my retreat and run.

Johnathan is strolling his way to the car, looking like he's on top of the world. I make a B-line in the opposite direction and head towards the old abandoned mansion. The money in my bag makes small crinkly noises as I walk. I walk near the backs of buildings to avoid being seen.

The grass around here looks like someone put a flame to it. The buildings are old and rustic; so much so that the wood is starting to collapse under its own weight. The mansion is right up ahead in plain view now; it's huge and with its marble finish, it looks like a knockout. Only reason it's not occupied is because of the story it 'possesses.' Apparently it's haunted, everyone who's ever lived there has died in that house. To this day, no one knows why.

I've been there before, and it's not scary during the day. 

Once night time hits, you better get the hell out of that place because there's a 99.9% chance something will emerge out of the shadows and eat you. Not one soul has ever survived two nights in that place and lived to tell the tale.

I climb the steps up to the front door. The wood creaks and bends as I place my foot on the boards. I twist the dusty doorknob and walk in. Dust covers every object in the room. Small footsteps shine on the floor as well as larger, more humane ones. The dust hasn't resettled over them; must be new. Maybe Baxter actually kept his end of the bargain. I plant my feet over the freshly printed footsteps and follow them. I balance on my feet through the ballroom, the library, and the main bedroom. The tracks end at the kitchen, where a familiar figure stands, watching me make my way to them. Baxter. His hair is deshelved and his eyes are bloodshot. A cruel grin appears on his face and his raspy voice fills the air. "I thought you weren't going to show."

I unzip my backpack and take out the small pouch of dough. "And I thought you would be too scared for this place. Looks like we both had our doubts about each other."

He cackles. "Maybe I underestimate my clients."

"I am not your client. All I want is my brother back. Are you going to hold up your end of the deal or not?"

"Yes, yes, I have your poor directions right here," he pulls out a crumpled up piece of paper, "but first, I'd like my money."

"How do I know you won't just run off with the money and kill my brother?"

His eyes roll. "Why does everyone think that? Look, we won't harm your brother. We just want our money."

I speculate around this for a minute before saying, "Then it wouldn't be a problem to take me to my brother, now would it?"

His smile wavers slightly. "What?"

"Take me to my brother, and then you get your money."

"You've got to be joking me."

"I whole-heartedly promise you that I will not back out. You will get your money, and I'll get Andy back. It's a clean trade."

He sighs. "Fine. I'll take you to your brother, and then I get the money. You better not be joking around with me on this."