Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The disco lights beamed before my eyes. Red, yellow, green, blue, and repeat. They flashed in time with the chants�"“Fight, fight!”�"from outside, and also with my thumping heart. I could feel the tension building, the atmosphere glaciating. This was it. What it was, I didn’t know. But it was brewing all around.

From behind the wall, I watched Bethany Morgan shiver. Her limbs began to shake and her breathing pattern became ragged. Ryan, her date, trembled beside her, a picture of puzzlement. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t feel what she felt. All he knew of was the sudden deadness to the air, silent and icy and�"

A loud scream drowned out everything. It was Bethany, as pale as a ghost with tears slipping down her cheeks. She stared at her feet, arms flapping and flailing. “No!” she cried. “Get away! No!” Aside from Ryan, there was nobody else in her sight. She couldn’t see me from there. So to whom was the protesting directed?

“Ryan, help me!” she breathed, raspy and rough. Her voice cracked, reducing her to splutters and whimpers. “Please!” It was strange to see Bethany like this: a person usually emanating calm and simplicity, all terrified and confused. She no longer cared that her full lips weren’t glossy; that her tight fusia dress was rumpled up around her knocking knees, revealing blotches of fake tan. All those thoughts had diminished. Fear was in control.

In a heroic attempt to save her, Ryan rushed forwards, fired up in the panic. Mid-leap, he froze; hanging there for what seemed like an impossible amount of time. Another ear-splitting scream sounded from Bethany and it restarted the horrific action, a blur of chaos. Before I could even comprehend the choke from her date’s throat�"sounding somewhat like “Beth!”�"my legs were moving, fuelled by adrenaline. I approached the couple, fear nonexistent within me.

My arms reached out, my body on autopilot, and pushed Ryan away from his girl. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what. But I still moved without thought, without hesitation, yanking Bethany from the invisible monster. She was released. The black belt around her waist snapped off in the process, but that didn’t matter. Nobody cared. As the flustered couple recovered on the floor, the students from outside emerged. They piled in, surrounding us instantly. Questions shot around and flew straight over my head.

My single focus was the attacker. I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t scared me, why I was only left intrigued as his powerful presence faded. What I did know, however, was that Bethany Morgan was safe.

At least until he returned.

 

~~

 

This has to stop.

I need to find a solution to this nightmarish problem. And fast. All of Thursday evening, my eyes are glued to my laptop screen, scanning and searching, desperate for a clue or, even better: an answer. There’s a lot of information on fainting and fatigue, but nothing logical about persistent bad dreams. Ugh.

Under orders from my parents, I go to bed early. Of course, the nightmares don’t hit me then�"that’d be too predictable, too normal. They prefer to strike in public, or around Corbin. Thankfully, my morning is just as tranquil as my slumber, though I spend ages taming my wild bed hair. The peace doesn’t last for long: my mobile buzzes and Regan’s face appears on the screen. I stab the answer key.

“Yeah?” I yawn down the phone.

My friend screeches. “Omigod, Maddi! Omigod, you’ll never believe it!” I can’t really concentrate in my groggy state, but one thought crosses my mind: She’s just smashed her high-pitch record. Ouch.

“Regan, tell me at school. I’m...I’m trying to get ready.” Even though I’ve been awake for about half an hour, my eyes haven’t adjusted. They keep closing on me. My finger lingers over the hang up key, but before I press it, Regan shouts something. “What?”

“Dresses! We don’t have dresses for the dance!”

I freeze, comprehending her words. The grogginess is slowly fading as my thoughts come together: The dance. Tomorrow. Corbin. Date. Dress�"wait, what dress? Regan’s right. I hurry to my wardrobe and fling outfits onto my bed. There aren’t very many; we threw most of them away after last year’s growth spurt. It’s actually amazing that this situation can upset me, especially after everything that’s happened over the past few days, but I’m not putting it on when I yell “S**t!” down the phone.

“My sentiments exactly.” She sighs. “What are we going to do? We’ve been so caught up in getting Josh and Corbin as dates that we totally forgot. Carly hasn’t got one either, though she has no excuse.”

As I stare at the clothes on my bed, a scattered mess of items I’ll likely never wear again, an idea springs to mind. An idea that will not only solve this problem, but will fill my thoughts with non-nightmare-related subjects; it’ll make me feel normal again. “Makeover meeting!” I squeal, suddenly excited. I probably look stupid standing in the centre of my bedroom, happy dancing in “Grumpy but gorgeous” pyjamas, but there’s nobody in. My parents have gone to work. “You know, like we used to! At my house, after school.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the phone. Then, all in one breath, my friend gushes, “Thank you, thank you! I love you, Mads!” She yips. “You know that, right?”

I laugh. “Tell Carly, and remember the clothes!” It isn’t the first time Regan has forgotten something due to excitement. A year ago, she turned up for a makeover meeting at my house without any clothes or makeup. Somehow we made do what we had. “See you at school!”

After breakfast, my usual three slices of toast with caramel sauce�"yes, I know!�"I wander into my en suite to brush my teeth. My father must’ve been in this morning

as the window overlooking the street below is wide open and the room smells vaguely of his aftershave. The en suite interior is self-designed. I’ve stuck more than a hundred pictures on the dull white walls to make it brighter, more lived in. It also gives me something to look at while I’m�"

A loud whistle sounds. I jump and, being a natural at pessimism, come to the worst conclusion. Is there a thief in my house? Will I be hurt? But after hearing it again, I realise it’s a person from outside. Corbin. He’s standing at the top of my path, stepping forwards, then back, contemplating whether or not to knock for me.

We’ve never walked to school together before and my chest clenches at the idea: two parts hopeful and one part nervous. Yesterday’s scene would no doubt come up in conversation, but after sleeping on it, I’ve decided that’s a good thing. According to experts, confiding in each other is a great way to start a relationship. Okay, so I didn’t just research my horrific dreams problem last night. Bite me.

The doorbell rings.

I bolt downstairs, answering only after a few more seconds have passed. I don’t want to seem like I was waiting. He meets my gaze, something unfathomable glinting in his eyes. The wary, shuffling boy I watched from my window has gone. This Corbin is confident and sexy. He flashes me a smile, tone flirtatious as he says, “Hello, beautiful. If you’re ready, I figured we could walk to school together. If you want.”

My nod is firm. “Sure, I want.” A genuine, happy smile breaks out on his face, weakening me at the knees. “I’ve just got to pack my school books. Give me two minutes,” I say, holding open the door. “Come inside.”

He follows me into the living room and takes a seat, gaze wandering. This is his first time in my house too, and I worry he’ll be disappointed. In comparison to the Evan’s interior, my home is rather nondescript. I glance over at Corbin, only to find him smiling at my baby photos. It’s like yesterday all over again, except the roles are reversed. Perhaps I’ll get my kiss this time....

Two minutes later, we’re out the door and on our way to school. Our pace is unhurried, relaxed in each other’s company. It’s time to bring up The Topic. “I’m sorry about yesterday, by the way,” I start, my gaze purposely steady, voice smooth. “That keeps happening recently.” Especially around you.

That same unfathomable expression flickers over his face, disappearing before I can name it. It’s irritating to not know what it means, what he’s thinking. People like Regan and my father are far more open and readable. “It’s okay,” he says. “Do you want to come over again today?” As pleased as his invite makes me, I don’t miss the sudden change of subject. The haste of the words and the way his voice heightens in pitch.

As my mind churns and deciphers these aspects, my lips utter, “I can’t today. Regan and Carly are coming over.” He frowns at this, the creases around his eyes tightening. My own gaze drops to the dull grey pavement, preventing distraction as I press back to The Topic. “They won’t be staying late. I’ll need rest for tomorrow, so that nothing...weird happens again.”

When he doesn’t say anything, I gulp too loudly and scuff my feet on the ground. Sounds are comfort. In most cases, anyway. I hear myself start rambling again. “When I...faint, these videos play in my mind. They’re not real, but...but they’re so detailed that it seems that way, you know? They’re mostly about Bethany Morgan. I�"I don’t know why, or what they mean. I just...” My lips are trembling at this point. “I haven’t told anyone else. Nobody knows.”

Several long, stretching seconds pass. I want him to talk, to say that no matter how many times my head makes contact with the floor, he’s happy to spend time with me. To tell me I’m not a freak. But instead he wipes away any fears or terrible conclusions I’d come to in his own way: Corbin-style.

Taking my hand, he puts his lips by my ear, and whispers, “Don’t worry about anything. You’ve told me a secret; I’ll tell you one of mine.” Just those simple actions fill me with happiness, relief. I lean in further, relaxing and inhaling his addictive scent as he puts his free arm around me. He then mutters something so fast it’s almost incomprehensible.

I fall into bubbles of laughter.

“That’s the secret. Now it’s not a mystery anymore.” He lets out a soft chuckle and, maybe without realising, laces his fingers through mine. “But you can’t tell anyone. Promise?”

Through my giggles, I manage to utter an agreement. The whole moment�"which I’d thought would be painfully awkward�"has instead brought a big, permanent, and slightly smug smile to my face. Simply because I know his secret. No matter how small or useless it is, he confided in only me. For everyone else, Corbin’s deodorant brand will forever be a mystery.

We look like idiots as we walk through the school gates. At least, I do, with a laugh that better resembles a lion’s roar. The looks people shoot me fly straight over my head, however, unable to penetrate the bright, happy atmosphere around us. One that Corbin created. One that made me think my researching for a nightmare-cure yesterday was a waste of time. No medication will fix it. No routine, no bedtime. Perhaps the answer is this boy right beside me.

Perhaps he’s my cure.

 

~~*~~

 

At lunch, I track down Carly.

It doesn’t surprise me to find her with her boyfriend, Raymond, at our usual rectangular table. Her legs are crossed over his, and their arms are curled around each other’s bodies. You could say there are easier positions to eat in, but they look happy. I plop down opposite her. “Did Regan tell you?”

Carly swallows the last bite of her sandwich before nodding. “About the makeover meeting? Yeah, and I’ve got clothes. It’s going to be great.” She smiles, revealing a perfectly straight set of white teeth. “What do you think?”

I totally forgot she had her braces removed yesterday. And wow, what a difference. She’s always been so refined in public, afraid to let loose and laugh because she didn’t think it looked attractive. It was that shyness that made her dark complexion, glossy black hair, and deep almost-black eyes seem gothic, refined, rather than pretty. Now she’s got the light back�"and a dazzling smile�"that she usually saves for only Raymond, and occasionally Regan and me.

“You look hot, Carly,” I say, still shocked by the change in my friend. She shoots me another grin, just because she can.

Her boyfriend clears his throat. “Beautiful,” he corrects. “She looks beautiful.” Even as he speaks to me, his eyes stay on her. They always are. I normally avoid their romantic conversations�"unlike Regan, who makes a scene of how repulsed she is�"because it’s awkward, but for some reason, I’m interested now. I want to know how they act around each other, to see how much he cares. To study love, right before my eyes.

Raymond leans in and kisses her on the cheek. He lingers close; his finger tracing her lips, though he could probably draw them with his eyes shut after all these years. She turns her head and runs her hand through his scruffy blonde hair. I look down for one second, and soon enough they’re in full make-out mode. It is actually rather awkward just sitting there, third-wheel.

“That is disgusting,” a familiar voice cries. Regan takes one of the empty seats by my side, her face creased with frown-lines. “Get a room already. Stop slobbering on school property!” She’s never been a fan of kissing couples, unless she’s part of it.

Raymond and Carly break apart, both with faint smiles on their lips. I notice that, although they’re no longer physically attached, they still sit less than a centimetre’s distance apart. They also mimic each other’s movement. That interests me bizarrely, but when they catch me watching, I stop paying attention.

“So, Carly, as your date for the dance was obviously going to be Ray, how come you didn’t have an outfit ready?” Regan asks. “I mean, our excuse was date-searching. It’s pretty time consuming.”

Our friend shrugs. “Honestly, I didn’t really think about it. When you’ve got a boyfriend that means the world to you, little things like dances and dresses don’t seem as important and interest�"”

Regan snorts, cutting her off. “Alright, enough with the soppy stuff.” She glances in my direction and a look crosses her face, like she’s noticed me for the first time. After a few seconds, she breaks into a huge smile. “Madbin, eh? Surely you didn’t think you could hide it from me?”

“Hide what?” I frown. “What’s Madbin?”

“Don’t act dumb, Mads. We all know it.”

Okay, I really don’t understand what she’s talking about, but it doesn’t look like she believes me. Actually, gazing around the table, it doesn’t look like any of them do. “Can I have a clue?” What’s irritating is that the word “Madbin” does ring a bell. I’ve heard it more than once today, but that doesn’t make it any clearer.

“Maddi and Corbin. Madbin.” She rolls her eyes. “The new hot couple of Orland High. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

My jaw drops, then closes, then falls open again. The new hot couple of Orland High. We’re a couple? I don’t even know what to think, let alone what to say. They’re all staring at me, eyes wide, awaiting my response. Regan’s drumming her fingers on the table impatiently. “Um...I had no idea,” my lips mumble, disconnected from my brain. I clench my fists and shake myself, refusing to fantasise about Corbin creating the rumour. “Where did you hear this?”

“Where do you think?”

In my head, I run through the possibilities. Considering that Corbin and I had sprung through the school gates this morning, hand in hand, laughing and smiling�"and the fact that there were more than one thousand students in the grounds around us�"my list isn’t exactly very...narrow when I turn back to my friends. But then I catch Regan’s glinting eye, take in her side-smile, and it’s obvious. “Josh.”

My friends start laughing. Except Raymond, that is, who “strongly dislikes” (read: hates) the guy. He just nods, and says, “Only two people would start a silly rumour under the name ‘Madbin’, Maddi. And one of them is Regan.” A smile grows on his face.

He’s completely right though. In that sense, Josh and Regan are perfect for each other. They both spend five percent of their life doing general business, five percent fussing over their appearances, and ninety percent spreading false rumours and gossiping. The differences: Josh breaks hearts and Regan is vulnerable. I start to think about this, my mind falling into its own little haze, away from my friends’ light banter and�"

“Boo!” someone whispers, their breath chilling my neck. I flinch in surprise, but immediately recognise who it is. They’re close enough that I can smell them; and only I can name that scent. Corbin takes the only free seat next to me. “How’s it going everyone?” He smiles at all of us, except Raymond. It’s a long story, but put short: since spending every living second with a girl, Ray lost his place amongst his own.

“Oh, look here, someone get a picture! We’ve got a close up of Madbin,” Regan jokes, winking at me. That stupid nickname is starting to get on my nerves, especially as it doesn’t mean anything�"yet. Wait, should I put a “yet” there? Perhaps I’m becoming too hopeful and cocky, but to be fair, Corbin’s been paying quite a lot of attention to me recently. The random date, the almost-kiss, walking to school.... I’m not sure why; really, the only thing that’s changed about me since the holidays are the nightmares. Let’s call it bad timing. Or bad luck.

Regan’s nodding when I zone back into the conversation. They don’t seem to notice. She starts talking about Josh spreading rumours again, but I don’t listen. A distracting movement from under the table catches my eye. It’s Corbin’s hand�"clenching, flicking, reaching out in my direction, just as it had the day before in art class. It’s like he’s unsure whether to touch me. I smile to myself, deciding to make the first move for a change. My fingers run along his.

He jerks away, jumping from his seat. His eyes are wide, frightened, shocked. The water bottles and metal cutlery on the table jostle. I keep my head down, avoiding all eyes, because although he moved fast, it wasn’t fast enough.

I still saw it.

He doesn’t sit down again. He just waits, and when I eventually look up, our gazes lock. His pleading eyes try to convey a message, but I can’t focus. The image is engraved in my head. Thoughts, possibilities, questions filling my mind’s every corner. He must see that because he turns on his heel and hurries away. At any other moment, I would’ve been hurt at his sudden departure. But right now, I needed him gone in order to process. To process the sight fused into my brain.

The sight of the deep, jagged gash that seared through his palm and up his wrist.

It could’ve been something simple. A car crash where he managed to get out with a serious scar but nothing life-threatening. The result of a failed flip on a skateboarding ramp. Or perhaps a mishap with an oversized knife. I wanted it to be one of these things, just something accidental.

But his reaction, his expression�"

�"his fear had told me otherwise.

Reviews

[xx]

Wonderful chapter! :) I've already read ahead, as you already know, and I'm just going back and reviewing chapter by chapter - which is difficult, because I'm trying to do it from an objective point of view, and now I understand the significance of the hints you set down throughout these first three chapters, but I'll try my best. :)

You're brilliant with character consistency - I feel like I know how Regan is right through her bubbly personality, and while I feel that you made Maddi's personality more complex and not so easy to pin down, I feel as if I know who she is, too, in terms of personality and self.

I have yet to successfully complete any significantly long fiction piece in the first person point of view, so when I see how you handle the narration of this work, I'm utterly taken aback - you know how to manipulate character and how to retain character consistency, and you show that through your skillful control of first person narration, through Maddi's point of view. Everything that happens in the story is seen through her eyes, whether figuratively or literally, and it's easy to step into her shoes and understand things as she does.

I'll admit that I'm not a big fan of student-life stories and too much romantic interaction, but I don't like to abandon good stories - and this one certainly is. It's a little more difficult for me to get into the school-life-related subplots (prom dress picking, dating, student romance) than it is for me to get into the action-y bits, but just know that it's not through any fault of your own, just my own personal tastes in fiction coming into play. And you should also know that I was still eager to read along, though this usually isn't the case! :)

Sorry these reviews are so slow in coming, and I'm doubly sorry that I couldn't resist reading the following chapters instead of reviewing each chapter as I went along - but I promise I'll make it up to you...x3 So please do keep writing! :)

-Mina

[Rae Elizabeth]

I like the introduction. I see minor subject-verb agreement mistakes, but nothing that can't be fixed. Very good third chapter (: Now onto the fourth!

Again, good point of view in the intro describing the incident regarding Bethany.
"the nightmares don’t hit me then"---change don't to didn't, i think it sounds better
" I hurry to my wardrobe and fling outfits onto my bed"-----change hurry to hurried.

Other than those too it was good. I need to understand the reason why corbin and ray dislike each other. I can tell a problem will arouse between them later on in your story. And i love the ending

[Daydreamer54]

Aw, i'm happy he accepted her even though she's basically a freak...but in a good way. :P i'm not sure if he really believed her. OMG, I'm beginning to get curious about his scar as well. the "perfect" guy is hiding something...
I agree with Reagen about carly making out with her boyfriend. I'm kinda against PDA and to hear about Maddi wanting to watch them is kinda bizarre,but i understand her reasons. Everyone has their quirks.