Slipping

  ****

  "Alright guys, the bells going to ring. Don't forget to finish up that essay. It's worth ten percent of your grade this semester." I jerked my head up from my desk. Dang I needed a good night's sleep. The sound of Mr. Crandal's voice had jerked me awake. I rubbed my eyes and stretched. The essay was going to be hell to finish. I had only just started it. Writing wasn't my strong suite. I was more of a mathematics guy. Jordan always edited my essays for me, usually rewriting the intros. Damn, there I go, thinking about Jordan again.

  "Miles?"

  I stopped breathing for at least five seconds as my eyes scanned the room and landed on my little sister. She was standing in the doorway, her blonde hair framing her small face. I glanced sideways at Parker to see if he had seen her too. But no, he was busy putting his things away.

  "Miles, we have to go." She walked towards me and grabbed my hand sending a chill up my arm, pulling at me until I stood up. "We have to go right now."

  "Where?" I asked. Everything looked so normal. Was I dreaming again? She couldn't be real, yet everything else was so right that I didn't understand how this could be a dream.

  "Come on." She pulled me forward as the bell rang, and we were practically running down the hall as it filled with kids. I slammed into several of them but Rayla parted the crowds easily in front of me. Wake up, Miles! I yelled in my head. This isn't real. But it looked so real. She looked real, and the people I ran into felt real.

  Before I knew it, we were going through the side door and moving quickly down the sidewalk. Rayla had slowed our pace from a run to a quick walk, but we were making good progress even with her short legs.

  "Rayla. Talk to me. Why are you here?"

  "I'm trying to help you, Miles."

  "I don't want your help. I just want to take you to the park or something. If this is my dream, I'd like to enjoy it."

  "This isn't a dream." She didn’t turn around and look at me. She kept going, pulling me down the sidewalk like she might have when she was six and wanted to show me an art project she'd made for school. She used to get so excited about art. She was good. She would have been an artist someday.

  "Wait." I jerked her to a stop, forcing her to look at me. "I'm sorry Rayla. I wish it were me that night."

  "We don't have time for this. We're late." She took off again, this time without waiting to see if I was coming. I jogged to catch up.

  Before long she slowed. We were in the middle of town, outside the bakery on main. I followed her as she made her way off the path and around the back of the business.

  "This is it," she said, stopping and looking at the sloping land that ran behind our tiny downtown. "This is what I wanted you to see."

  "See what?" I looked where she was looking, but there was nothing. All I saw were trash bens and empty boxes. Litter blew in the wind.

  "Miles, think. Remember. Something important happened here."

  I looked at her, and she stared back at me. The look she was giving me reminded me of the day she broke her bedroom window playing volleyball in the house, serious and scared.

  "Don't be scared," I said, reaching out for her.

  "I'm not scared for me. Think Miles. Look where we are. What do you remember? You were here once. What happened?"

  "I've been here lots of times, Ray." I looked around. When we were younger Parker and I used to play hide and seek down here. There were a ton of places to hide.

  "No, Miles. It was recent. It was getting ready to storm. Do you remember?"

  I thought about it, looking out over the area. It wasn't uncommon for me to walk by this area. It was a shortcut home, and if I was in a real hurry I would walk through there as long as it wasn't raining. It was like a mud pit when it rained.

  "I'm here all of the time."

  "You saw something. You heard something. Do you remember?"

  Flashes of memory flew through my head of the many times I had walked that path, but nothing was sticking. Fleeting moments of déjà were all I was getting

  "Miles." I jerked upright. Dad looked down at me with a frown as I panted, sitting on the coach. The sun outside was starting to fall. "Kid, you all right? You were rolling around like you had ants in your pants."

  "Uh." I shook my head , the dream still as strong as a memory. It wasn't fleeting like most dreams, the way they slipped away from you as soon as your eyes were open. This one stayed like it was part of who I was. "I'm fine."

  3

  The sky was turning dark, but I didn't care. The dream tore at me all through dinner until I couldn't help but going back there and seeing if it meant anything. I grabbed my ball cap on the way out and headed toward downtown. It wasn't much of a walk, but I went the short way, coming up behind the bakery where I had stood with Rayla an hour before. No, I had dreamed about standing there with her.

  Why here? Why would I dream about us together here? This wasn’t somewhere we were ever together. Her walk from school never would've brought her by this place , and I never would’ve brought her down here either because it was dangerous. Sharp scraps of metal were flung about from the scrap yard a couple lots down and glass from teens hiding out and drinking lay broken on the ground. My mother would have lectured me had she known of mine and Parker’s games of hide and seek.

  Something happened here, she had said to me.

  "Get a grip." I shook my head rubbing my eyes with my palms. I was really slipping. This break up with Jordan had apparently sent me over the edge. I was inventing this game to distract myself. Great Miles. I dropped my hands down to my side, giving the place one last glance before turning to leave. You're going crazy.

  A door creaked open and a second later slammed shut. It was like déjà vu. Images ran across my head, a memory. I had gone home sick from school, taken the short way home.

  "Jimmy, I'll get the money from you. That I promise." The voices had been background noise through my fever. The wind had picked up, blowing in a storm. I hadn't been able to hear the second guy's response. I glanced across the yard and spotted two men standing on the back stoop of the barber shop. "This is life or death. You have those three kids… why don't I start with the oldest." A crack of thunder had sounded, drowning out the end of the threat and fat rain drops fell around me. I took off in a run toward the house. I was sick and feverish, and I didn't want to be out in the cold rain. When I had gotten home, I dropped into bed and didn't get up for two days.

  I hadn't ever thought about that conversation. It was just a whisper in the wind, heard by a feverish head. Had I heard what I thought I'd heard? Was this the murder she was talking about? Who had it been?

  I closed my eyes, replaying the scene. The two men were just shadows in my fever. One was short and stocky. The barber, Mr. Carson? The other was small, short and thin. They were outside the barber shop, was it the barber? He did have three kids, one of which was in my grade.

  I headed around to the street, wanting to see the barber, to see if he fit the description.

  "Mi!"

  "Huh?" I looked up at the loud voice.

  "Jeez, what you thinking about? I had to call your name three times." Jordan stared back at me, looking at me like I had three heads.

  I took a deep breath. This was the last thing I wanted to do now.

  "Nothing, I was just thinking about that essay we have to write."

  Jordan smiled like she didn't believe me. "Oh, right. I should really start that."

  She was acting too natural, it pissed me off. She had just dumped me yesterday. I was pretty sure it was her duty to leave me the hell alone, ignore me. Yeah. She didn’t get to come around me all smiley like that.

  I walked past her up to the street.

  "I was just wondering if I could get a few of my things back." She followed along beside me like we were chummy friends.

  "Go for it. My dad’s home. Go knock."

  She was silent for a minute, her hands buried in her back pockets. "I…uh…I was hoping we could still be friends." She looke
d at me through her long eyelashes.

  I took several steps before stopping to face her. "Jordan, you kind of sprung this whole thing on me, and honestly I'm pissed off about it. Fine, you want to go date other guys and see what else is out there, go for it, but I'm not going to act like I'm okay with it because I'm not." My face was hot as I stared down at her. She held her blank expression.

  "You're right. I'm out of line. I'll drop by on my way home and get my stuff."

  "Perfect." I turned away from her, trying to shut down my temper. Friends? Right!

  I looked up, my insides turning to ice as I stumbled over my own feet. There sat Rayla, swinging her legs off of the bench seat outside the barber shop. She was smiling, looking out at the street.

  "Miles?" I jerked my head toward Jordan's voice and then back to Rayla. She was gone, the bench empty. "Are you okay?"

  I blinked my eyes, staring at where my sister had just sat. I was losing it. I was really slipping now. "Fine," I said, taking the last three steps that put me outside the barber shop. I glanced to my left. Mr. Carson stood behind a barber chair, clipping away. The silhouette was the same. He had been there that night.

  4

  I sat on my bed later, too wired to go to sleep. My head spun about Rayla and the possibility that I was losing sanity. Maybe I should go and talk to Liam, the barber's oldest son. What would I tell him if I did? My dead sister told me you were gonna be murdered so maybe you should triple check your house locks. Sure, that would go over real well. I rubbed my tired eyes with my palms. The answer was simple. I was going crazy. Maybe I should check myself into the nearest nuthouse.

  I didn't sleep and Rayla didn't appear, thank God. But with the light of day, I was inching toward school and having to face the world about the breakup of the super couple. A grand day.

  "Dude, is that coffee?" Parker said, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion like I had a third eye as I gulped down my jo from Shelley's café.

  "Yes. I didn't sleep."

  "Well have an energy drink. Coffee is for sissies."

  "Shut up dude." He must have been able to tell I wasn't in the mood for his banter because he did shut up.

  All eyes were on me as we walked in the door. I tried to act like I didn't notice. I also tried to look like I wasn't completely miserable about the whole thing but being so tired, I wasn't sure the act was holding up.

  Kate Cinder smiled at me brightly and waved. "Looks like you have options, bro." Parker nudged me, grinning. I rolled my eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was to get tied down to a small town girl. Nope. I was out of here, and no one was going to stop me.

  Jordan was surrounded by half of the basketball team as she rounded the corner. I tried to act like I hadn't noticed her, but it wasn't working very well.

  I stopped dead as I spotted Rayla leaning against my locker, her arms over her chest, looking impatient.

  "What's up?" Parker asked, almost running into the back of me.

  "N-nothing." I shook my head and blinked my eyes, but she didn't go away. Her eyes met mine and she started tapping her foot.

  I moved toward her, my mouth going dry. Was I awake this time?

  "There you are. I've been waiting forever," she said.

  "School doesn't start for ten minutes."

  "What?" Parker asked spinning the dial on his locker.

  "Oh, nothing." Get with it Miles! You can't talk to ghosts in a crowded hallway.

  I shook my head and reached to open my locker. "We don't have time for this. We need to find Liam," Rayla said, reaching out and grabbing my hand. Her touch was ice cold, and I jerked my hand away from her.

  "What is your deal, Miles?" Parker said, his voice half a laugh. "Did the thing shock you?"

  I glanced at him, licking my lips and wondering if I should go home, drink some Nyquil and get some sleep. "I'm…I'm not feeling very well."

  "Well," he said, looking around before dipping down by my shoulder, "I don't want to tell you what to do," he