knock.” I begin as I open the door. “How did you-“
“Wild guess.” He interjected with a sly grin. “Please close the door behind you.” He sighs, “I’m assuming you aren’t here for anything school related.”
I squint my eyes at him, unsure if I should trust him at all, but realizing I have no alternative. “You’re right.” I pull my messenger bag up and rest it on my lap as I take a seat. “What happened the other day?”
He leans forward and puts his elbows on his desk. “You tell me, you were there.”
“I’m well aware of my presence there, sir, but regardless, I have a distinct feeling that you know something I don’t.” I look for some sort of reaction, but when he doesn’t say anything, I continue. “When I was in your office and the police were right outside your door, you told me that the first light I saw had to be lightning, like you didn’t want me to give the police any other option. Why?”
“Because if they thought it was anything else, you could likely be in trouble.”
“Like what though? I mean, you think it is something else, don’t you?” My leg stars bobbing up and down and I feel the anxiety welling up inside me.
He looks at me with his brows slightly furrowed and opens his mouth for a moment before closing it again. I almost feel like he is waiting for me to say something that will trigger what he wants to say to me. “What do you think it was, or could be, Ms. Miller? Can I call you Katelyn?”
“Yes, Katelyn is fine. I just don’t know. I didn’t set anything off and I don’t think anyone else did either, and to be honest, I don’t think it was lightning at all.” I prop my elbows on my lap and bury my face in my hands as the first bell rings.
“Don’t worry about the class, I’ll give you a pass for being late.”
“I need you to figure this out, Katelyn. I need you to really consider what happened, what you may have done, intentional or not-“
“Wait, what do you mean intentional or not? You think I did something!”
“Oh, I know you did. It had to come from you.” He takes out his notepad and begins to scribble out my late pass. “Sometimes you have to think beyond reason. Is this the first time something unexplainable has happened to you?”
I stare at him, unable to respond. Mr. Wentworth just shakes his head like he knew the answer to that before he even asked me. “I have to go.” I say numbly. I take my late note off his desk and leave the office.
Taking into consideration the fog I am in, it becomes quite easy to ignore the whispers. Though there are a few that have congratulated me and tried shaking my hand. As I approach homeroom, I see Samantha heading towards me. I brace myself for the inevitable ‘fakelyn’ comments and endless torment, but she quickly tears her eyes away from me and turns down a hallway. Is she afraid of me?
After classes filled with movies and ‘social time’, I decide to head to the beach to clear my head. Think beyond reason. Pft. What the hell is that supposed to mean? He’s being so cryptic. I realize that I forgot to ask why there is no trace of him online and make a mental note to ask him the next time I see him.
I stop for gas by the Westpoint Beach Club and see a black tahoe parked across the way at a sandwich shop. Though I know it’s a long shot, I head over to see if it’s Logan. Sure enough, as I pull up I see him standing by the car, arguing with an older gentleman. He is a bit taller than Logan, which would probably put him at six-three or six-four, he has brownish-red hair pulled back into a ponytail. From what I can see from the parking spot I pull into, he seems to be very serious, a permanent furrow in his brow mars his thin face.
I step out of the car but wonder if I should walk over since they seem very intense in conversation. However, as soon as I am about to step back, Logan looks over. Not around the lot, not in my general direction, but right at me, as if he knew
“Wild guess.” He interjected with a sly grin. “Please close the door behind you.” He sighs, “I’m assuming you aren’t here for anything school related.”
I squint my eyes at him, unsure if I should trust him at all, but realizing I have no alternative. “You’re right.” I pull my messenger bag up and rest it on my lap as I take a seat. “What happened the other day?”
He leans forward and puts his elbows on his desk. “You tell me, you were there.”
“I’m well aware of my presence there, sir, but regardless, I have a distinct feeling that you know something I don’t.” I look for some sort of reaction, but when he doesn’t say anything, I continue. “When I was in your office and the police were right outside your door, you told me that the first light I saw had to be lightning, like you didn’t want me to give the police any other option. Why?”
“Because if they thought it was anything else, you could likely be in trouble.”
“Like what though? I mean, you think it is something else, don’t you?” My leg stars bobbing up and down and I feel the anxiety welling up inside me.
He looks at me with his brows slightly furrowed and opens his mouth for a moment before closing it again. I almost feel like he is waiting for me to say something that will trigger what he wants to say to me. “What do you think it was, or could be, Ms. Miller? Can I call you Katelyn?”
“Yes, Katelyn is fine. I just don’t know. I didn’t set anything off and I don’t think anyone else did either, and to be honest, I don’t think it was lightning at all.” I prop my elbows on my lap and bury my face in my hands as the first bell rings.
“Don’t worry about the class, I’ll give you a pass for being late.”
“I need you to figure this out, Katelyn. I need you to really consider what happened, what you may have done, intentional or not-“
“Wait, what do you mean intentional or not? You think I did something!”
“Oh, I know you did. It had to come from you.” He takes out his notepad and begins to scribble out my late pass. “Sometimes you have to think beyond reason. Is this the first time something unexplainable has happened to you?”
I stare at him, unable to respond. Mr. Wentworth just shakes his head like he knew the answer to that before he even asked me. “I have to go.” I say numbly. I take my late note off his desk and leave the office.
Taking into consideration the fog I am in, it becomes quite easy to ignore the whispers. Though there are a few that have congratulated me and tried shaking my hand. As I approach homeroom, I see Samantha heading towards me. I brace myself for the inevitable ‘fakelyn’ comments and endless torment, but she quickly tears her eyes away from me and turns down a hallway. Is she afraid of me?
After classes filled with movies and ‘social time’, I decide to head to the beach to clear my head. Think beyond reason. Pft. What the hell is that supposed to mean? He’s being so cryptic. I realize that I forgot to ask why there is no trace of him online and make a mental note to ask him the next time I see him.
I stop for gas by the Westpoint Beach Club and see a black tahoe parked across the way at a sandwich shop. Though I know it’s a long shot, I head over to see if it’s Logan. Sure enough, as I pull up I see him standing by the car, arguing with an older gentleman. He is a bit taller than Logan, which would probably put him at six-three or six-four, he has brownish-red hair pulled back into a ponytail. From what I can see from the parking spot I pull into, he seems to be very serious, a permanent furrow in his brow mars his thin face.
I step out of the car but wonder if I should walk over since they seem very intense in conversation. However, as soon as I am about to step back, Logan looks over. Not around the lot, not in my general direction, but right at me, as if he knew
Similar Books
