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Watched, Page 3

Cindy M. Hogan

Big, old, majestic buildings that screamed tradition surrounded me at Georgetown University. Somehow, the towering trees and green grass brought a stillness that settled softly over me. I took in a deep breath of the clean, fresh air.

  Dawn had arrived, bringing a glow to the campus. The four of us were not alone, but almost. I saw a few people walking purposefully past us. The bench I sat on was heavy with dew, but I didn’t care. I wanted nature to somehow gently wash me with peace and comfort. With each deep breath, my mind slowed, and I was able to concentrate on nothing for a while. More than anything, I didn’t want to think about last night’s bloody ballroom.

  I could barely hear Kira and Rick’s footfalls as they walked along a path in front of me, her arm linked in his. Marybeth lay on the edge of a large fountain, her hair draping over the edge and her eyes closed. She hadn’t spoken since she fell to the bathroom floor, yet birds were chirping and singing, oblivious of the horrible thing that had happened.

  I started wondering what it would be like to go to school here. I hadn’t even considered attending Georgetown before now. It would be a long two years before I could escape high school, though. If only my parents had listened to my counselors last year explaining that I could easily leave high school and go to any university I wanted, I would already be studying somewhere instead of staying in a high school that offered me nothing except torture. Maybe I would have fit in. I only fit in on this trip because of Marybeth’s magic.

  She had saved me from social suicide my second day in D.C. We’d arrived on Sunday, but it had been so late, we’d gone straight to bed once we got to our hotel. Monday morning I’d pulled my hair into a tight ponytail, and had my most comfy bright pink sweats on, ready for a long day of touring.

  As I left the room, Marybeth had called out to me, “Christy?”

  I had stopped, holding the door open. “Yeah?”

  “We don’t have time to work out.”

  “Oh,” I said, looking down at my clothes. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  “You’re not gonna wear that all day are you?” Her tone was not mocking, but concerned.

  “Huh?” I said, looking down at my clothes again, feeling my face burn despite feeling her sincerity. What was wrong with my clothes? They were my most comfy ones ever.

  “They’re sweats!” she almost yelled, exasperation lining her words. “And your hair’s in a ponytail—”

  “Yeah. We’re going to be on the bus a lot of the day, touring, and I wanted to be comfy.”

  “Comfy? Since when was being a hot girl comfy? You need to shine. Not wilt away.”

  Did she just call me a hot girl?

  “Look at yourself. With a bit of effort, you’ll look amazing. What other clothes do you have?” she had asked as she walked over to my closet.

  Then she had taken over. With the little she had to work with, she did amazing things for me. Not only did she get me to be as fashionable as possible, using a lot of her own things, she had also put my hair down and straightened it with the coolest iron I’d ever seen. I’m sure Kira never would have given me the time of day at breakfast that first day if I’d arrived in my bright, pink sweats. I had been resistant to some of the things she wanted to do, like putting makeup all over my face.

  “That’s okay, Marybeth,” I’d said. “We’ll be late.”

  “You know, Christy, you have the longest, most fabulous eyelashes I’ve ever seen.”

  “Thanks.”

  “The only problem is that I had to be two inches from your face to know they were there. You have to at least wear mascara. You’ll love it. I promise. And so will the guys.”

  That was all she had had to say. If mascara would make Alex notice me, I was in.

  When we had come down for breakfast, after she had performed her magic, I couldn’t help but notice that everyone had dressed perfectly. Most of the girls wore high heels and skirts and fancy jewelry. No one had worn anything remotely like sweats. They’d looked like mannequins in expensive store windows. Shoes matched purses and everyone’s faces were flawless. Kira waved us over to the table where the rest of the six from our group sat. No one had mocked me or made me feel dumb. Could the change I so desperately wanted come from something as simple as changing my appearance? It sure seemed like it.

  The last three days she had loaned me a belt here, shoes there, jewelry here…Everyday at least one thing I had worn had come from her.

  “That makes the outfit,” she had said, as she had put the finishing touches on me each day. And every day, as I had looked in the mirror to see the final product, I had had the same thought, “I look so different.”

  Watching Marybeth lie there on the fountain made me wish I could do something for her. Maybe I should tell Mrs. J. what happened. Marybeth had been an answer to my prayers.

  I couldn’t stop my thoughts drifting to the beheaded man named Jonathan, though. Did he have a family? Would they ever know what happened to him? Maybe they wouldn’t if I didn’t say something to someone. It seemed like the right thing to do, after all, the truth will set you free, right? My stomach twisted and contracted. Would this truth get me killed—just when things were looking up for me and I was becoming somebody?

  A man with a backpack, that looked light, not weighted down with books, walked slowly past Kira and Rick and then looked directly at me for several seconds. When I focused on him, I couldn’t help but notice how his icy blue eyes contrasted starkly with his dark skin and hair. I stared back, unable to look away. Why was he looking at me like that? My heart would have won a marathon at that moment.

  Why would he come to campus with an empty backpack if he were a student? Was I just paranoid?

  I tried not to let panic overtake me, focusing on slowing my breathing. I watched as the icy-blue-eyed man turned the corner and went out of sight.

  My imagination went crazy. Was he peering from behind the side of that building watching us or was he the first in a string of different tails—all watching and waiting? Would one of them kidnap us and kill us—or worse— torture us to death?

  I’d read enough suspense novels to know this couldn’t be good. I was afraid to look in the direction the staring man had gone again, but I did it anyway. No one was there.

  I stood, but it felt like my legs had turned to stone and it took forever. I clasped my hands together trying to stop them from shaking. Then, wiping sweat from my forehead and walking with deliberation, hoping not to bring attention to myself, I walked over to Rick and Kira. I looked at Marybeth, who had essentially been catatonic since the murder, and I knew that she would freak out if she knew of my suspicions, so I kept them to myself. I also knew it was too early to return to the hotel and meet up with the others, but I didn’t feel safe here anymore. I wondered where the other half of our group had decided to go hide out. What if they were being watched, too?

  “Hey guys, I read about another really cool fountain over there. Let’s go see it,” I said, pointing north. It was all I could come up with, lame as it was.

  “Really? How far is it?” Kira asked, pushing harder into Rick’s side.

  “Not that far.”

  “Whatever,” she said. “How much longer do we have to stay, anyway?”

  “What time is it, Rick?” I asked.

  “It’s seven: We still have about an hour before Mrs. J. comes down to breakfast.

  “Let’s go see the fountain and then grab something to eat,” I said, hoping to entice them away from the college. “That way, if someone is following us, we have another chance to lose them.”

  “I’m not really hungry,” Kira said, snuggling into Rick. “And no one’s following us.”

  “It’ll make the time go more quickly,” I said with a smile, knowing she wanted to get back to the hotel.

  “What do you think, Rick?” she asked, flashing her blinding white smile.

  I was sure she always got what she wanted, just like she had seemed to have snagged Rick.

  “Sounds good t
o me,” he said, his dark blue eyes lingering on me.

  “Okay then, let’s go,” she said.

  Sure, she’d go because Rick wanted to.

  I walked in the direction of Marybeth to help her up, but Rick beat me there. Kira stood a few feet away sulking, her flawless face drawn out. I had been guiding Marybeth along ever since we left our hideout in the laundry room and Rick’s help was a nice bonus. He winked at me when I reached him.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “No problem,” he said, helping her up.

  Marybeth didn’t seem to be able to do anything on her own ever since the murder. She never said anything or even showed any facial expressions for that matter. Would she ever be herself again? I couldn’t help but selfishly wonder if I could get myself ready everyday and not make a fool of myself without her help. We walked in the direction of the made-up “fountain”.

  If the icy-blue-eyed guy popped up anywhere else today, I would for sure know he was following us. I shivered involuntarily.

  There wasn’t a fountain. Big surprise. At least we’d made it to a main street where it would be easier to catch a taxi. We hadn’t waited more than ten minutes when one dropped off two professor-type men in suits. We asked to be taken to a deli on Connecticut Avenue by Dupont Circle.

  It was sad to leave Georgetown University. I would have liked to have stayed longer. It was like a piece of heaven, until that guy cast his shadow over it. I kept looking behind us to see if we were being followed. The streets were packed with cars and taxis but there was no sign of him; I guess I was just being paranoid like Kira said, but the feeling of being watched wouldn’t leave me.

  The cab driver let us off at a small, packed deli not far from our hotel. Rick, holding onto Marybeth, and Kira stood in line to buy some food. I took a table as soon as it became available and looked out the window, searching for the man with icy, blue eyes. I felt pretty lucky to have snagged the table I did, because it was stuffed into a cozy corner at the front of the deli. I didn’t think anyone could see me from outside, but I still had a great view of the sidewalk. The smell of bacon tempted me to eat.

  Watching the masses of people on the sidewalk push along, my thoughts drifted back to the horrors of last night. I kept seeing the “leader” in the ballroom with the crooked nose. I pushed away the thought that he had looked me straight in the eyes. I shook my head for all I was worth and forced the image out of my mind. I wasn’t being rational. There was no way he could have seen me through that grate. We were way too far away, up that high. There was something so cold about his dark eyes, though, and I shivered despite the warm, stuffy air in the café and my suddenly hot face. I hoped the other three would hurry and get their food and join me. There was definitely a greater sense of safety in numbers. In books and movies, though, people were brave when alone. I wanted to be brave.

  Someone with a bright yellow jacket walking by the café caught my attention, reminding me of what I wanted to be doing: looking for the guy I had seen at Georgetown.

  I forced myself to watch each person. They were all so different: tall, short, white, black, tan, dark hair, blonde hair, and red hair. I didn’t want to miss him in the crowds, so I started to focus on people with blue eyes and dark hair. I questioned my ability to spot him. Everyone with blue eyes and dark hair looked alike. Did I really remember exactly what the guy in Georgetown looked like? For that matter, could I get that leader’s crooked nose out of my mind long enough to identify the staring man? I had never had a problem remembering words on a page or pictures of things in books. Could fear prevent me from remembering? Just as I began to believe I wouldn’t remember, I saw him, and knew it was him! My brain didn’t fail me after all.

  Nearly overwhelmed with panic, but at the same time, fighting a very small part of me that wanted to catch him and confront him, I leaned farther into the corner. Could he see me? No. He walked in the direction of our hotel past the café, his view of me blocked. I shuddered at the knowledge that if he had been coming from the other direction, he most likely would have been able to see me through the windows, but he hadn’t, and I was safely hidden by a wall when he passed by me. I knew those icy eyes. I was sure. Just before he completely passed the café altogether, he stopped and looked through the windows. I ducked, feeling my eyes grow to the size of golf balls and pretended to tie my shoes. Where were the others? I couldn’t see them in the line for food anymore. I looked past the ever-growing queue, past the cash register and finally spotted them. They were behind a divider wall, just to the left of the cash register, and were getting their drinks and some napkins.

  I looked back to the door. The staring man from Georgetown was still there, his hand on the door knob until someone wanted inside. He let go, but continued looking as if no one had disturbed him. Would he come in? How could I get my friends to stay where they were, so he wouldn’t see them? The divider hid them from his view now, but if they moved even two feet, he would see them. I felt completely useless and at his mercy. I didn’t like this feeling—I wanted to grab him, shake him, and tell him to leave us alone. But I couldn’t. Just like I hadn’t been able to stand up to the bullies at home in Helena.

  What could I do to warn my friends? Different ideas flooded my mind, none of which would work. I saw Kira grab a straw and take a step in my direction, Marybeth and Rick behind her. My heart dropped. Thankfully, their progress was slow because people were constantly reaching in front of them for napkins and straws, getting in their way.

  I glanced at the door again. I looked harder. He wasn’t there! Slowly, I raised my head and looked over the table and out the window at the front of the shop. He wasn’t there, either. Where was he? I should have felt relieved that he was gone, but instead, I felt worse. I realized it was almost better knowing where he was. Acid filled me. If he’d kept walking straight, he might have been somewhere between our hotel and this deli. What should I do? Should I tell my friends what I’d seen? At first, I thought I should, but then I wondered if Marybeth could handle it. “No, she couldn’t,” a voice in my head said.

  Kira, Marybeth and Rick walked up to the table, interrupting my thoughts. I let out the long breath I’d been holding. There were only three chairs, and Kira pushed me over so that half of my rear was hanging off mine. Rick set a bagel in front of me, smiling.

  “I guess I was hungrier than I thought,” Kira said. “It just smelled so good in here, I had to order something.”

  I was a little envious of the fact that Kira hadn’t seen anything in the ballroom. She wouldn’t be scarred forever like those who had looked.

  Kira opened the container she’d set on the table and dug into her Danish, but Marybeth didn’t even open her sack. I knew she must’ve been hungry, but she only sat and stared at nothing. I couldn’t blame her, food wasn’t in the forefront of my mind either, but I took small bites since Rick had been nice enough to bring me something.

  The last time I heard Marybeth speak was when she hushed me on the toilet in the bathroom in the hotel where the man had been killed. I wondered if she would ever recover from what had happened. She needed a bit more backbone if she wanted to become a senator. Rick, half-way through his breakfast sandwich, paused only to take a big swig of his drink. I realized my hands were almost dripping with sweat. I had to keep wiping them on my pants. I didn’t have a clue how to deal with this. I needed some help. If I told Kira, she wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret from Marybeth and I had to keep it from Marybeth if I hoped to get her back. Rick, on the other hand, would know what to do, but how could I tell him without upsetting Kira? Just then, she bumped me with her arm and gave me a menacing look.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Why are you staring at Rick like that?” she whispered, her mouth so close to my ear, I could feel her hot breath. “Cut it out! He’s taken.”

  “I wasn’t staring,” I said, even though I knew I had been. “I wasn’t even looking at him. I was thinking.”

  “Oh.” He
r anger faded, and I thought she was feeling a little foolish. “Guess I was being stupid.”

  “Yes, you were.” I smiled, trying to play it off.

  “Were you thinking about it?” Kira asked in a normal voice.

  “It?”

  “You know, It,” she insisted. “You’re sweating like crazy.”

  I felt my forehead and sure enough, it was even wetter than my hands had been before, and I scrubbed them on my pants.

  “Yeah, I guess I was.”

  “Forget about it Christy. No one’s following us. It’s really over.” She flicked her head back, making her curly auburn hair dance.

  “You didn’t see it, Kira,” I said, trying not to sound annoyed.

  She turned, her crystal green eyes flashing a look of anger.

  “It will never be over for me. I’ll always wonder if someone’s following me.”

  “I hear ya,” Rick said, his face earnest. “I’ll never forget it either. Hopefully, no one’s following us, though. Sorry, it’s so hot in here and I didn’t get you a drink. Are you sure you don’t want anything? Can I at least get you some water, Christy? I’ll go get you some.”

  “No, really, I’m okay,” I tried to object, but he was already up out of his seat walking away. I tried not to watch him, but he did look good wearing those particular jeans.

  Kira huffed. Curiously, I felt some satisfaction. She could be so irritating.

  He spoke to the cashier and she handed him a water cup. An idea burned in my mind. This was my chance.

  “I’m going to get some more napkins to mop up all this sweat,” I said, reaching up and pointing at my forehead. Pull it together, I told myself.

  I almost tripped over a chair leg on my way there, hurrying to catch Rick before he started back to our table.

  “Sorry about that,” I called out to the man sitting in the chair.

  “No worries,” he said.

  Rick saw me coming toward him.

  “I could’ve done it for you, Christy,” he called. “I know you like to do everything on your own, but—” His look was endearing, but a bit let down.

  I signaled him to come around the divider to the drink machine with me.

  “What?” he asked, looking confused.

  I looked straight ahead in the direction of the drink machine and kept walking, trying to act like I wasn’t speaking to him. I knew Kira would be watching us like a hawk and didn’t need the added headache, even if it felt a bit nice to make her mad.

  “What?” he asked again. He waited for his turn to use the machine, and I waited for a chance to get some napkins.

  “Don’t look at me.”

  “What?”

  “Just listen. Don’t look at me,” I said quietly, but urgently. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  “You have my attention.”

  “Back at Georgetown there was a guy who walked by us with a backpack on.”

  “There were a couple that I can remember.” A playful smile danced across his face. “We were at a University, after all.”

  “Yeah, but this guy was different. He had icy blue eyes.” My heart sped up.

  “Icy blue eyes?”

  “The way he looked at me was so strange. And his backpack looked empty. It spooked me.”

  “That’s understandable, all things considered.” He put his hand on my arm.

  “Yeah, well get this,” I said, trying to ignore my fluttering heart. “That same guy just walked by the café and was looking through the glass door—like he was looking for something or someone. You guys were over here, and I ducked under the table.” I finally grabbed a handful of napkins.

  “No way,” Rick insisted, his eyes darting to the door. “Your mind is just playing tricks on you.”

  “No,” I said, mopping my forehead and deciding to hold nothing back. “It was him. I’ll never forget those eyes and I never forget a face. I wanted to get us out of there without freaking Marybeth out anymore than she already is. I just said there was a fountain to the north of where we were, but I didn’t know if there really was one or not. I needed to see if he would follow us. I’m telling you, he’s looking for us right now. He was heading in the direction of the hotel.”

  “You’re serious aren’t you? If this “Iceman” really is following us, we are in some deep—”

  “I know,” I interrupted, not wanting to hear a swear word, but liking the way Rick nicknamed the guy following us, Iceman. “How do we get out of here and back to the hotel within ten minutes without him seeing us or freaking out the girls?”

  People started reaching around me for napkins so I moved over to the drink line with Rick. He looked around the café.

  “There aren’t any other exits are there?” he asked, looking at the door we had come in.

  “Not that I can see.”

  “Hold on a minute.” He handed me my cup right as he got to the front of the line, and I filled it while he walked back to the cashier.

  I peeked around the divider and saw Rick talking to the cashier. She nodded and pointed at some doors behind her.

  “Thank you so much. You’re saving me a lot of aggravation.” I heard Rick say. Then he motioned for Kira and Marybeth to come to us.

  I felt Kira’s eyes burn me, like hot flames shooting out at me, but she stood and grabbed Marybeth, leading her to us.

  “Guys, we’ve got less than ten minutes to get back,” Rick said. “Just in case there’s still a tail on us, we’re going out the back.”

  Kira’s eyes were again sparkling as she grabbed his arm, letting go of Marybeth. “Great idea, Rick.”

  Fickle girl.

  I hated that about girls. I grabbed Marybeth, and we all went through the door to the kitchen and then out the back.

  “What did you say to the cashier to let us go out this way?” I asked, once in the alley.

  “I told her that my ex-girlfriend was waiting for us outside and that it would be to her advantage if we could go out some other way to avoid the inevitable fight that would happen if we went out the front doors.”

  “Good one,” I said. How had he thought of that?

  Give me a debate or an essay and I’ll knock it out of the park, but when it comes to real life and common sense, brilliance abandons me. And nowhere was the difference in smarts more apparent than here in D.C. with the murder. I just couldn’t find my way through it—I felt totally vulnerable.

  I tried not to let anyone see how badly I was shaking. Iceman had really freaked me out.

  The back alleyway of the store was just like ones you see in the movies: a long, dark, skinny walkway lined with stinky garbage bags and empty boxes, as well as clothes hanging from lines overhead.

  We headed in the direction of our hotel, and I kept repeating in my mind, we won’t get caught, we won’t get caught. We walked only a short distance before we came upon a brick wall that forced us to go right, down another alleyway, which led to the bright light of the busy sidewalk—the one we were trying to avoid. We all stopped and stared. Rick took a deep breath and so did I. I was scared to death and was so tense, I could feel the pressure in my ears.

  “I’ve got an idea,” I said. Where I got it, I didn’t know. Was this common sense? “Let’s change our appearance as much as we can. You know, to throw them off. If they’re there, I mean.” I flashed a knowing look at Rick.

  “Sounds good to me,” he said, giving me a half-smile.

  I pulled my hair into a pony. Kira pulled up only the front of her hair.

  “I’ll braid Marybeth’s hair,” I said. I knew she wouldn’t change a thing herself and braiding I could do. She was acting like a zombie. It seemed to take forever to braid her long hair. When I was done, I saw that Rick had turned his T-shirt inside out. We all looked each other up and down, and Kira started to giggle. We’d hardly changed at all. The tension was so high, that I giggled too. It surprised me that I could laugh. Even Rick gave a dry laugh.

  “I really don�
��t think there’s any way we’ll be recognized. We don’t look like ourselves at all now.” Kira’s sarcasm was desperately needed to lighten the mood. Could such simple changes really stop them from noticing us? I had to believe they could or that Iceman was long gone. At the moment, I felt like I really could walk out on that sidewalk and not fall apart. I would pretend I was walking onto a stage to debate.

  Rick and Kira went first. We waited about two minutes, and then I grabbed Marybeth and we headed out into the crowd. When I hit the sidewalk, it felt like my heart was being squeezed. This was no debate, I thought. I couldn’t even look up. My heart pounded erratically as I held onto Marybeth’s arm and steadily pulled her through the mass of people. I had no idea if Iceman was anywhere around because I didn’t look anywhere but at my own two feet. I didn’t know what I’d have done if I had seen him anyway.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw our hotel, and we scrambled up the steps as quickly as we could. Just inside the hotel lobby doors, I let out a long breath—I think I’d been holding the whole way—and glanced around to see if Mrs. J. was anywhere. It looked like all fifty in our group, including the kids from our mini-group, were already in the buffet area eating. I looked out the glass doors of the hotel wanting to celebrate making it to the hotel without being seen, but my heart sank instead.

  Icy blue eyes stared up at me from the sidewalk. In a flash, Iceman disappeared into the crowds of people.

  “Hurry up girls,” Mrs. J. said, walking into the buffet area.

  I pulled Marybeth through the buffet room door to listen to Mrs. J., my mind reeling. I had to tell the others.

  “We have a full day,” she continued speaking, now to everyone. “Today we’ll be touring Arlington National Cemetery and the Pentagon. You’ll need a jacket and some good walking shoes. The bus leaves in ten minutes.”

  Marybeth and I hurried and sat down next to Kira and Rick.

  “We thought you guys weren’t ever going to show up,” Summer said. “We’ve already been here for thirty minutes.” She looked perfect, of course. She must have passed on breakfast and gone to her room to get ready.

  “We didn’t think we’d ever get here, either,” Kira said. “You’ll never believe …”

  “Hey guys, can we hold off on the stories until we’re on the bus?” Rick interrupted, his voice serious. Rick’s eyes darted around the room, finally resting on mine. It was the first time Rick looked really nervous since leaving the hotel to head for Georgetown. How would he feel when he found out Iceman had been just outside?

  CHAPTER FOUR