Mia Luce

Whispers

I was halfway through English, and already longing for Physics. We were currently studying for a big test, and as I stared vacantly at my study guide, random quotations floated through my mind. “They’re just all so… withdrawn…” “They’re all the same age, which is weird…” “Almost all the girls in Oakridge are chasing after him…”

There was something fishy about all this, and I was determined to figure it out.

I ran it all through my head. So there were three incredibly attractive… seniors, I guess I should say… who had the same parents and looked nothing alike, except for their snowy white skin. They could possibly be adopted. The main fact that confused me was that if they weren’t related, they were all somehow so beautiful. Their beauty looked natural; the idea of them using make-up or skin products was laughable.

So what the heck was the deal?

“Psst.”

I was yanked back down to earth by a harsh whisper.

“Campbell.”          

I searched around wildly to find the source of the voice. It was Brianna Michaels, beckoning toward me from her desk on the right. I turned around to face her, bewildered.

“Is it true,” she whispered; two girls in the vicinity leaned closer, waiting avidly, “that you’re going out with Jack Lewis?”

“Nope,” I answered dryly, and whipped back around.

“Wait!” she mumbled, glancing at Mr. Stevens to make sure he wasn’t listening. “But Tiffany said-”

“He’s only taking me to dinner!” I whispered defensively, then wished I hadn't.

She smirked, obviously pleased to have the suspicion confirmed. “And is it also true that he and Chris got into a fight?” Brianna inquired, restless.

I laughed coldly, even though the thought of Jack and Chris going at it wasn’t at all funny. Somehow I knew who would win. “No, that’s a rumor,” I told her. Which Tiffany probably started, I added in my head. Piper Small had warned me about Tiffany’s fascination with other people’s personal lives.

She and her friends seemed a bit disappointed as I turned back around.

Lunch came and went without any fun, and finally it was time  for Physics. My heart was racing before I even left the lunchroom and as I scurried through the halls. I passed a group of girls; one stopped to whisper in another’s ear. I momentarily paused, shook my head, and decided getting to class was more important.

I practically flew to my seat, pathetically eager, not caring when I bumped into Gabbie and she dropped her designer bag.

“Hello, Campbell,” he greeted me cheerfully.

Today he was wearing an ocean blue collared shirt the exact same color of his eyes that worked very nicely for him. Then again, was there anything that wouldn’t work nicely for him? His glossy back hair drew my eyes automatically. It was beautifully untidy, like always, hanging over his forehead a little bit.

“So,” I began. “Today I saw five people whispering about me, and one even asked me if you and Chris got into a fight.”

He laughed musically, and suddenly my head felt like it was melting. “You can’t blame them,” he reasoned. “Hardly anything worthy of gossip has happened in Oakridge since we moved here.”

At that moment I took my chance to do some detective work. “So you came here… two years ago? Where did you live before?”

He studied my face, and I hoped he wasn’t suspicious. “Boston.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, and played with my pencil distractedly. I’m not a very good detective, I thought. Maybe I could get someone to do a background check on him... “You know… I don’t know anything about you.”

“Hmm,” he said. I had a feeling he was avoiding the conversation. Well, too bad. I was going to get it out of him.

“Tell me about your parents,” I nearly begged.

“I’d rather not.”

“Tell me about your sisters, then.”

“Fine,” he exhaled. “You win.” A smile came to the surface that he tried to hide, but I caught it. “I’m the oldest. Bronwyn’s ten months younger than me, and Hazel’s a week younger than her.”

He seemed to be finished. I made a frustrated face, and prodded, “Go on.”

“Bronwyn’s pretty nice most of the time, once you get to know her. She can be difficult, but she has her good moments.”

“So in other words, she’s exactly like you?”

He smirked. “I guess you could say it like that.” Then he paused again, except this time it was almost as if he was teasing me.

“And Hazel?” I nudged.

“She’s nice to everyone, of course, except people who aren’t nice to her, and sometimes annoyingly optimistic.”

I looked over into the corner where Hazel was sitting at her table. She had her head rested on her arms and a defeated look on her fair face.

“She doesn’t look too optimistic now,” I noted.

Jack sighed and grimaced at the same time. “We’ve been arguing lately.”

I knit my eyebrows. “Oh, You don’t have to tell me anything. It’s not my business.”

He cast a sad glance in Hazel’s direction, then turned back to me. “What else do you want to know?”

I was taken aback. “You mean I get to ask whatever I want?”

He thought for a moment. “You can ask, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll answer.”

I narrowed my eyes and continued my meek interrogation. “Gabbie told me you were adopted,” I lied. There was no other polite way to get on the subject. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” he answered, to my surprise. “When we were two years old, Hazel, Bronwyn and I were all in the same foster home, so naturally we were best friends. Originally Alex and Lyra only wanted one kid, but they didn’t have the heart to break us up.”

“Alex and Lyra… they’re your parents?”

“Yes.”

I made a sweep of the room with my eyes before asking, “So what do they do?”

“They’re archaeologists,” he replied willingly.

“Oh,” I said, nodding like I knew all about archaeology. There was a teeny-weeny little dark spot on the thigh on my jeans, and suddenly I became very interested in it.

Then, he burst out laughing.

I whipped my head up, confused. His laugh was a melodic sound, like the chiming of low bells. I was stunned into silence, and just sat there, gaping. He had his head rested in his hand, and was laughing so hysterically but so quietly that several people watched him, shocked, probably thinking he was having some sort of fit. It was probably the strangest thing I had ever seen. He wasn't making any noise. Hazel, from the other end of the room, didn’t look very pleased when I caught her eye. Even Mr. Barnes gaped for a moment as he entered the room. Apparently Jack Lewis laughing was a sign of the Apocalypse.

Finally he chuckled to a stop.

“That was weird,” I mumbled.

“I apologize,” he said, grinning. “The expression on your face was hilarious.”

My face probably look like a huge question mark. “Huh?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I promise to explain on Friday.”

Friday? Friday! Oh! I had forgotten.

A giggle escaped my lips.

Mr. Barnes got up and told us today was our last day to finish our project, and to get busy. Several groups were scribbling frantically on pieces of paper. We seemed to be the only ones finished.

“So we’re done with our project… I guess we can just talk,” Jack said in his crystalline voice. His voice was a needle. Every time he spoke he injected something into my bloodstream that made my body work faster but my mind work slower.

We talked, and he asked me all kinds of questions. I told him about my parents, about their divorce, about my life in Trenton, and about my life now. I was surprised to find it relaxing to let someone get to know me. Finally someone didn’t think I was just, “that girl in History” or “that girl who dumped salad on Chris.” Finally someone knew that I did ballet when I was little and I loved pineapple and I broke both my arms when I was nine. Finally, someone actually cared. And that someone’s name was Jack.

That night I decided to do more detective work. I was going to figure out what his deal was. So, like every confused teenager, I turned to Google. Vanessa's laptop was waiting in her office, begging me to hack onto it. Its owner was currently at the car wash, and she would only be gone for a few minutes, so I had to act fast. I stared at the Google search box for probably two whole minutes, trying to think of what to search. Finally I just typed, "attractive pale skin cold skin mood swings." Then I laughed. I couldn't believe I was doing this.

When the page loaded up, I closed my eyes, swerved the mouse around, and clicked. It turned out to be a medical website. I peered uncertainly at the title of an article: "Iron Deficiency Anemia." It seemed very unlikely that Jack wasn't getting enough iron. I read anyway.

"Iron Deficiency Anemia is the most common type of anemia, a condition in which the body lacks enough red blood cells. These cells help to carry oxygen throughout the body, giving the skin a healthy color. As the name implies, Iron Deficiency Anemia occurs when the body is not getting enough iron." Blah blah blah... I scrolled down and clicked a link that said "Symptoms." A list popped up.

"Pale skin, shortness of breath, headache, dizziness/weakness, cold hands and feet, irritability and/or mood swings, brittle nails, irregular heartbeat, pica (cravings for substances such as ice, dirt, or chalk), and poor appetite."

Well. I had to admit it was a better explanation than anything I could think of. It explained the pale and cold skin... but I couldn't see him eating chalk. Suddenly I heard Vanessa's car pulling into the driveway. I scribbled down the symptoms on a pad of paper, ripped the page out, deleted her internet history, and closed the laptop.

***

By Friday morning, the morning of our date, I had pretty much given up on the iron deficiency anemia theory. It was highly unlikely all three of them had it. And Jack had me thoroughly annoyed by all this, “I’ll explain on Friday” business that he had been repeating all week. What exactly was he going to explain? What if there was something seriously wrong here?

It was almost like he wasn’t… they weren’t… human. Like they were a whole other unnaturally beautiful, endangered species. As the day wore on, some of it started to make sense. This whole thing was a conspiracy. They had a secret.

The pale skin… it couldn’t be genetic. Jack had admitted they weren’t related at all, but… all three of them had complexions the exact same ivory color! And they were so incredible, all three, and yet they never talked to anyone, never wanted to make friends, and sat at their own table in the back of the lunchroom. It was because of their secret; they didn’t socialize because they didn’t want anyone to find out! On my first day everyone seemed astonished that Jack even spoke to me. Then when he asked me on a date, they must’ve sensed something very strange going on. They had been going to school with stony-faced quiet Jack for two years, and when a new girl shows up, he starts acting all friendly?

All this settled in my stomach like Vanessa’s spaghetti.

In spite of my fears and anxieties, I wanted so badly to see him that I couldn’t breathe properly. I had been feeling a little sick all morning. Was it him? Could he actually make me physically sick?

When the bell rang and signaled the end of English, I moved against the flowing crowd for a quick stop before History. I was pretty sure he was coming out of Calculus.          

He came striding out, looking as solemn and alone as ever. Somehow, he sensed I would be waiting for him, because I saw him smile before he even caught sight of me. I staggered a little bit, suddenly feeling queasy.

“Hi Campbell,” he said smoothly. His turquoise eyes thoughtfully peered at me from under his raven hair. The same chestnut glint that I noticed the first time I met him caught my eye.

All I could manage was, “Hi, Jack.” I knew I took too long to answer; I was busy drinking in his very presence.

“So are we all set for tonight?”

My stomach fluttered weirdly and my vision went a little blurry. I stabilized myself, thinking that it was nothing, and said, “Yes. Where are we going?”

“It’s… a surprise,” he said haltingly, looking at me with concern. I had stumbled a bit.

“Jack, I don’t… I feel… weird…”

My breath caught suddenly and I buckled, falling strait into him. I felt two arms around me and heard a swirl of noise before I passed out.

***

“What happened to her?”

“Is that Campbell Harris?”

“Someone do the Heimlich or something!"

“Is she unconscious?”

“Make sure she’s breathing!”

The garbled blob of voices was somewhere above me.

“What’s going on here?” A male voice asked importantly from my left.

My vision was slowly focusing; I felt an intense throbbing in my head, shoulders, and arms where I had smacked into Jack. I realized I was laying on the cold tile floor now.

“She passed out, Mr. Stevens,” a familiar voice informed the previous one. Even in my delirious state I recognized it as Jack.

“She needs to get to the nurse’s office. Can she stand up?” Mr. Stevens asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jack said.

I blinked heavily, and his pale-skinned figure was kneeling over me. “Campbell? How do you feel?“

“Like I just fell out of an airplane,” I said groggily. “What happened?”

“You came to talk to me after first hour, and passed out.”

“I did?” mumbled, staring up at his face.

“Did you eat breakfast this morning, Campbell?” Mr. Stevens asked me, crouching down. He had obviously shooed the crowd away, because they were grumbling as they slowly made it to their classrooms.

“Yes,” I answered slowly.

“Can you tell me your birthday?”

“December seventeenth,” I replied.

“Okay, Mr. Lewis, help me stand her up.”

I felt like a rag doll as they took me by the arms and pulled me upright. I swayed a little bit, but was otherwise okay.

“Will you take her to the nurse’s office?” Mr. Stevens asked Jack. “I’ll sign you a late pass, but I have to get to my class.”

“I’m okay-” I protested.

“Yes, sir,” Jack interrupted.

I followed him out of the hallway, staggering.

“Your… your hands…” I mumbled sleepily.

“What about my hands?” he asked, several paces ahead of me.

“They’re so cold…”

He froze and I almost ran into him.

It was true, I had felt his hands on my arms as he pulled me off the floor. They weren’t only freezing cold, but hard, like stone.

“No they’re not,” he said, turning around.

“Yes they-”

Then he let loose the power of his beautiful eyes. “No they’re not.”

“Why?” I complained.

“Campbell, stop talking, you'll just confuse yourself.”

"I'm not confused!" I cried wildly. "Do you have brittle nails?"

He ignored me. This made me mad.

"What about an irregular heartbeat? Do you crave substances like dirt, ice, or chalk?"

He stared at me, bewildered. "What are you talking about?" I tripped and crashed into him again. His whole body was so hard that I knew I would have bruises. “Okay, you can’t walk,” he stated. “And you’re delirious.”

I felt myself being lifted into the air. “Put me down!” I cried.

He only snickered and held me in an iron cage with his cold arms.

“Jack, stop… get off me!” I sputtered.

“I’m pretty sure you are on me,” he laughed.

I decided to shut up and stop fighting it. He carried me, lolling and helpless, down the long hallway. I drifted into a dreamy, quiescent state. I didn’t even know where I was, all I knew was that my shoulders and the back on my legs were numb from cold. My eyes fluttered open from time to time, but all I could see was a blurred ceiling. I felt like I was floating in a cloud, undisturbed, rocking back and forth…

***

“I don’t understand. How did she get to the office if she was dizzy?”

Vanessa was pacing up and down the nurse’s office, her hair bobbing in a ponytail and dressed for work.

“Another student carried her in here,” the plump, motherly nurse told her. “Very nice boy. Seemed very concerned about her.”

My cheeks burned. Vanessa looked at me curiously. I was sitting on one of those cots with the crinkly paper lining, very embarrassed. I was eighteen years old, darn it, and perfectly capable. Yet the nurse insisted that I should be driven home. She was very confused about the cold spots on my shoulders, said it was peculiar…

But I knew the truth. Jack was not normal. It was impossible for human skin to constantly be that cold and hard!

“Are you ready to go home, Campbell?” Vanessa asked, digging through her purse for something.

“But what about my car?” I protested.

“Why don’t you leave it in the parking lot, and I’ll take you to get it later, if you’re feeling better?” Vanessa suggested. “Hurry up, I should have been in the office fifteen minutes ago.”

I followed her, lost for words, out to her little red Honda Civic. It felt wrong leaving my car in the exposed parking lot.

There was a sharp, biting cold wind outside. Low gray clouds stretched across the sky. I hadn’t seen the sun since I got here.

We climbed quickly into her car; Vanessa fumbled with the keys. I rested my head on the window and sighed. I felt so tired. My eyes burned beneath their lids. How was I going to make my date? Just the thought of missing it was… shocking.

And then there he was. I had been so preoccupied I hadn’t noticed him standing there. He was leaning, still as a statue, against a brick wall. Vanessa didn’t see him, she too was distracted. He raised his hand, waved once, and then disappeared when we turned the corner.

Only when he was out of sight did I realize that he shouldn’t have been standing there in the first place. He had to be ditching class. That wasn’t right. I felt completely… well, crappy, but that didn’t mean he had to “see me off.” He was an unusual person, indeed.

“Tell me what happened again,” Vanessa said suddenly. I sighed; it usually took a few times before it could sink into her mind.

“I stopped to talk to Jack Lewis after English,” I began, staring out the window again, “and I passed out. I was feeling kind of sick before that. Then Jack helped me get to the nurse’s office.”

I could still feel the tingling cool spots where his arms had held me. I shivered.

“I can’t believe it,” Vanessa mumbled incredulously. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Vanessa,” I groaned.

"I'm taking you to a doctor. This isn't right. First the fever, then you waking up screaming, now this-"

"The last thing I want to do is go to the doctor," I grumbled. "I am fine. I promise."

She changed the subject immediately. “I can’t believe that boy, that was so nice of him. You need to thank him.”

“I will,” I told her. “Tonight.”

She gazed at me. “Huh? Oh! I forgot!” she smiled deviously. Then she frowned. “Do you think you can make it, though?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m not even dizzy anymore.”

That wasn’t entirely true.

“Alright. I’ll drop you off and then I really have to get to work. Call me if you need anything.”

We pulled up to the house and she kissed my forehead. I rolled my eyes, opened the car door, and ran, bent double from the biting wind, to the front porch. I watched her drive away.

I began to think as I searched my pockets for my keys. Jack was a wonderful person. I decided right then, that no matter what he… was, I wouldn’t care.

Wait a minute… where were my keys? I dug frantically through my pockets, even the back ones. I always kept my keys in my left pocket!  I tried to fish through my book bag, even though I knew they weren’t there. When that didn’t work, I turned the bag upside down and dumped out the contents. I sifted through my History book, several scattered papers, and three folders, none of these revealing my keys.

Suddenly the rev of an engine made me jump. I whirled around. My car was parked in the driveway, still running. Hurriedly I stuffed everything back into my bag and slung it over my shoulder.

I stomped down the sidewalk toward the driver of my car, who was climbing gracefully out of his seat.

“Hello.”

“What are you doing?” I cried.

“Did you expect me to let your car be stolen?” He asked with a grin. “Honestly, Campbell.”

“So you go and steal it yourself?”

“I didn’t steal it. I returned it to its owner,” he said simply.

“So where are my-”

He held the keys in front of my face, jingle them teasingly, and dropped them in my impatient hand.

“You know you’re ditching class, right? They’ll call your parents.” I looked up at Jack's marble-like face, my heart bumping around in my ribcage.

“My parents won’t mind, once I explain the situation,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest.

I shoved the keys in the lock and opened the door. He followed me inside without invitation. I fell onto the couch, exhausted.

He went up to me, a blank expression on his face. “You were lying. You feel awful.”

I gazed up at his sad eyes. “How did you know I was going to leave my car?”

“You were practically in a coma,” he answered, not even looking at me. “I had to carry you.”

“I know that,” I said, panting. It was getting harder and harder to stay conscious. “Jack, I can still feel the cold spots on my back! Why is your skin so cold?”

"Why were you asking me if I had the symptoms of anemia? Or do you even remember that?"

I blushed hard. "I... well... something's got to explain... this," I mumbled.

He turned around, running a hand through his silky, black hair, and looked me straight in the eye. “You’ve had a rough morning. Sleep. I’ll be right here.”

“Go back to school,” I protested, but as my eyelids drooped, I hoped he wouldn’t.
         
***

“Good morning sunshine,” a voice said. “Or should I say, good evening.”

I was drowsily drifting awake on the couch. Someone had thrown a blanket over me and turned off the lights.

“What time is it?" I slurred, rolling over.

"It’s five thirty,” Jack said cheerfully, sitting on the extreme edge of the sofa next to me. It was so obvious he was trying not to touch me.

“I can’t believe you’re still here,” I mumbled, studying his flawless face. He shrugged. “What did you do for…” I quickly calculated, “eight hours?”

“I flipped through a few channels on TV. Watched a biography of George Washington. It was fairly boring.”

“You should have been at school,” I complained, sitting up. I gazed at his forearms. He had pushed the sleeves of his navy blue sweater up. He looked away.I slowly slipped my hand sideways and brushed my fingers against his skin. I felt a tiny tingle, like an electric shock.

He jumped up and backed away, pretending to be interested in some pictures on the mantel.

“What’s that pink spot on your arm?" I asked softly.

He stared at me, slightly shocked, before he answered. “It’s a sunburn. You get them when you have skin like mine.”

“But it’s so cloudy-”

“Well, clouds magnify the sun, right?" He interrupted me, pacing the room, a stressed look on his face. I felt bad for making him anxious,

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

There was a long silence, as the tips of my fingers tingled. Even his sunburn was icy.

“I should go. You still need rest.” He pulled on his jacket and strolled up to me. “We’ll have to go to dinner another time.”

“No!” I interjected. “Jack, I’m fine! I want to go. Everyone’s treating me like a five-year-old, making decisions for me…”

He laughed. “Alright, alright, pushy,” he teased, his eyes displaying a little of that familiar glow. “I will be back at seven o’clock. Your mother will be here in ten minutes. I suggest you take a painkiller and act like you feel fine.”

“How do you know-”

“Shh. I’ll see you later.”

He opened the door and a frigid breeze wafted in.

“Wait!” I sprung to my feet, the blanket falling to the floor. “How are you going to get home?”

“I’ll walk.” He winked at me, smiled dazzlingly, and shut the door, his shiny hair blowing about his face.

I rushed over to the window and flew back the curtains. I was puzzled to find that there was no sight of him anywhere on the street, even though he had just walked out the door two seconds ago. How could he just disappear like that?

Dazed, I trudged up the stairs. How I was going to make myself presentable before seven o’clock was beyond me. I turned on the shower and let the water soak my disheveled hair. Ten minutes later I heard Vanessa come through the front door, just as Jack told me she would. I shampooed my hair twice, knowing that I would never achieve the level of shine that Jack exerted. By the time I was dried and running to my closet, it was six o’clock. I changed hurriedly into the dark jeans and float green top I had picked out that morning. I debated heavily on which bracelet to wear, and finally decided on a beaded white one. I attacked my hair with a blow dryer and a flat-iron until it looked semi-okay, and finally, I practically tripped all the way down the stairs. I had spent so long trying to straighten my hair that it was already six-fifty five, and I started freaking out internally.

“Oh, honey!” Vanessa squealed, launching herself at me. She pulled me into a hug, holding me a little bit too long. I had to remind her politely to let go.

I ran back up the stairs frantically to observe myself in the mirror one last time. I looked fairly… nice. Once Jack got here, though, no one would give me a second glance. And I wasn’t being modest. Trying to be optimistic, I thought, At least my hair isn’t the mop it usually is.

When I heard the doorbell ring, I dashed into the living room just in time to see Vanessa, bubbly with excitement, turning the doorknob. She let out a small gasp when she saw him. No one could blame her.

If I was “fairly nice,” he was stunning. He was dressed in a buttoned red shirt and dark jeans. He was perfect. Why was he so perfect? It was almost annoying, because I was nowhere near his beauty. Even Vanessa, who was closer to perfection than me, gaped at him soundlessly. She seemed to have forgotten about me.

“C-come in!” she cried in a sing-song voice. He smiled sportingly.

“Thank you. It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Harris.”

She seemed bemused by his charm. “It’s, uh… Waters, actually.”

Waters? She’d been using her maiden name? I never knew.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Jack said. “Well, I thought we would just get going, so we can be back by nine thirty.” He glanced at me and I joined him sheepishly at the door.

“You kids have a good time.”

“Thanks, Mom. Bye.”

She stared at me, surprised.

Then I realized what I’d said. I called her “Mom.” I knew then that she wasn’t just Vanessa. She was my mom, even if she had a different last name. She glowed with joy as I shut the door.