Free LEMNISCATE by Jennifer Murgia

chunk of my pain with it.

Chapter Fourteen
     
    “A re you serious?” Ryan’s face paled at my idea.
    “It’s exactly what you said we should do,” I insisted. “Well, not in those exact words, but you did say we needed to find out what Brynn was up to. You have to admit, she may not be the only one in her family with strange habits these days.”
    “Yeah, the whole journal thing doesn’t sit well with me either,” Ryan agreed, rubbing his chin with his hand in a very philosophical way. “How are we going to get Brynn out of her own house again?”
    “We’re not, she won’t even be there.”
    I proceeded to spill the details of my plan and after hearing my own voice say it out loud, I had to admit it sounded very Nancy Drew of me. I could see Ryan thinking it through, but his eyes still seemed a bit wary, which was only natural. My own insides were nervous. For one, I needed to create a diversion, somehow letting Brynn know about the party her friends were going to. Then, we needed to break into the doctor’s house, while he’s at my house getting it on with my mom.
    Eew,
bad mental picture.
    I kept telling myself that this was the only way. Why would my mom’s boyfriend, an established doctor, keep a creepy journal about strange phenomenon? Why would he even have any theories about me and my scar in the first place? I didn’t trust him. Not last month, not last week and especially not now, and I especially didn’t trust Brynn, the evil stepchild.
    I left Ryan at his locker quad, agreeing to meet under the tree at the end of my street tomorrow night. We were going to get to the bottom of this, I felt sure of it.
    All of a sudden, my hand blazed so intensely, I had to cup it in my opposite hand. It was usually a warning when it felt like this, and so I began searching the groups of kids still lingering in the hallway with me. My ears listened intently for wings, thinking perhaps this was a strange reoccurrence of the black feather incident.
    I craned my neck, trying to peer into the vast crowd near the stairwell doors. My legs suddenly felt rubbery and jellylike. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the back of a very familiar head that unexpectedly turned. He walked straight toward me, causing everyone in his path to stop and stare. He wasn’t supposed to be here. We all knew that. Like any other high school, word travels quickly. People were whispering, but he seemed to float effortlessly past them. Keeping his stride, he seemed to have a hidden agenda, pausing only for a second to glance at me with his deep blue eyes. Then he looked straight ahead and kept walking.
    “Whoa, did you see that?” someone’s voice broke the stillness around me.
    “I thought he was suspended,” someone else whispered a few lockers down.
    The air felt stifling and I had to get out of here. I needed air.
    What did I do wrong?
    Breaking through the groups scattered throughout the hallway, I pushed past anyone in my path, ignoring the rude comments left behind in my wake. I walked past Mr. Herman as he bent down, propping his door open with a worn wooden wedge, nearly stubbing my foot on his hand. He said something that sounded like my name and some reference to turning back around . . . I ignored him. I ignored them all and flung my arms out in front of me, pushing the glass double doors out of my way.
    I walked to my car, never breaking my stride. With peeling rubber, I backed my little white car out of the parking space, put it in gear and drove beyond the school grounds, never looking back.
    My mind replayed that day in the parking lot over and over again and still, I had no idea what I did to deserve this pain he was putting me through. He was the one who messed up, I kept reminding myself. He was the one. Not me.
    Then why was he punishing me?
    I didn’t stop until I reached the bend in the road. Autumn ravaged remains of green and gold flitted wildly past the sides of my car as I sped up the too-narrow pathway, now