"Knock that off," Kyle ordered.
"What did I do?" Ophelia widened her eyes.
"The shivering. It's ridiculous. I swear girl, there's something seriously wrong with you."
"I don't know why it bothers you so much. I thought you said you were past all that.
"I did. But damn, it's still strange. You're not a breather but not a total spirit, what are you? I think I only want answers." He poked her arm with his pen.
"Ouch!" Ophelia rubbed her arm.
"See. Right there, that's what I'm talking about. How the in the hell did you feel that?"
Ophelia turned her head away from him. Life was life, and death was... well, death was eternal. This shouldn't be happening and yet, here she was engaged in another pointless conversation about the oddities that were, Ophelia Wetherton.
"I'm sorry, Ophelia. You know my mouth and brain don't always work well together. I can be a real air head." Kyle reached for her hand, but she retracted.
Ophelia looked up at the ceiling and swiveled around with her back to Kyle. She shook her head in agreement. It was the only way she could answer him without revealing how he had pierced her heart. She should be used to Kyle's juvenile sense of humor by now. But some days it wore her down.
She tried to block out the painful sadness that gripped her. Mrs. S.’s, words faded, leaving a resounding blah, blah, blah. Once again, her mind drifted to her chance meeting with the mystery boy she had resolved to call, Alex. Tracing the moment in her mind, she struggled to look for any clue that would help her reach him again. Preoccupied, she hadn't noticed the breeze humming within the confines of the classroom. It was the chatter of female voices that broke her thought and finally got her attention.
Turning to shush the perpetrators, she was surprised when she found the rest of the class with their noses down, reading. Giggling behind her caused her body to pivot around toward the back of the class—nothing. The breeze whisked by catching the back of her hair and swishing it around her shoulders. Ophelia stood up.
"Miss Wetherton, is everything all right?" Mrs. S. questioned.
Ophelia furiously scanned the classroom, nothing.
"Yes. It's just, did you feel that breeze?” Ophelia said timidly.
"No, not at all. Please, return to your seat."
Ophelia sat down, her face burning. She opened her science book to the assigned page and lowered her head, leaving enough space to be able to see around the classroom. When she peered to her right, the frenetic pounding of her phantom heart seized her chest. Ophelia took a closed fist and punched her breastbone to gain control of the beating. A gaping hole not more than four feet in front of her, with its edges peeled back, revealed a line of lockers with three teenage girls laughing at a boy in a Letterman's jacket. Their clothes suggest modern society, similar to what Alex wore.
Slowly reaching out, she cautiously put her hand up to the window into the other world. A cool stream of air moved in a circular motion around the inside of the passage. Gently, she pushed her right hand through. A shrill scream startled her and she snapped back. The three girls were staring directly at her, remarking to the boy about a hand from nowhere appearing in the hall. Ophelia shot up, but they didn't react. She made a waving gesture, but they didn't seem to see her. They only saw my hand when it punctured the divide between us. They can't see me, or us.
Ophelia stood enamored in front of the open gateway. A bell rang, theirs. The hall was quickly taken over by scores of yammering students. There's so many of them. She thought. Studying their interaction, she grinned. The kids of today were so different than the classmates she'd had in her time. They never would have been so boisterous and loud. That was grounds for detention. And she nearly fell over when two of the students, both boys, were making out in front of one of the lockers. Her gasp must of have been loud because it caught the attention of Leon Brickman. Best friend to Roger Mooring and Ophelia's unwanted science partner.
"Sit down mouse, you dumb ass weirdo." Leon moved her chair out.
Ophelia hated him as much as she did, Roger. They were friends when they were breathers, thieves actually. But not the grab and run type of hooligan. Roger and Leon were much worse. They would break into rich folks’ homes, mostly the lavish Victorian style. Those were the ones with the bucks. If the poor residents happen to be home, they would tie them up and beat them. They said it was to keep them from telling the police. One family did though, the boys made the mistake of stealing the owners prize thoroughbred. They were tracked down, found guilty in a trial that lasted forty-five minutes, and hung in the center of town two days before Christmas, December 23, 1865. The Headmaster was baffled when they arrived, or so the story goes. He knew eventually The Nowhere would take them, until then however, they were the burden of the Academy.
Ophelia was relieved when Leon was finally forced into The Nowhere by a visiting, extremely skilled, young sorcerer. It was two calm years. Roger didn't act up as much once he was on his own. Everyone was flabbergasted when he returned. He had done the nearly impossible and escaped the clutches of darkness.
"Shut up, Leon. Stop calling me, mouse. What does that even mean?" Ophelia whispered.
"You're like a little gray mouse that I could squash with my shoe. That's what it means." Leon gritted his teeth.
Ophelia wouldn't be intimidated by him, not today. Concentrating on the sea of students, she desperately scoured for the one teen she was focused on—Alex. Coming around the corner from another hallway, he was headed right toward her. Holding hands with a cute brunette, they were exchanging dialogue, eyes locked. She inched closer to the opening. The thought of it closing before she had a chance to communicate burrowed into her mind. Anxiety churned the pit of her stomach, forcing a volcanic mock acid to rise to the back of her throat. She couldn't wait any longer, without realizing the volume, the words passed through her lips puncturing the gateway and capturing the attention of Alex McKenna.
Alex stalled in place, turning from Margaret, his gaze migrated to Ophelia.
"What the heck are you looking at?" Margaret asked.
"It's her. The girl I told you about. The one I saw earlier." Alex stared.
'Haven?" Margaret circled around.
"No. The teenage girl."
"Alex, I don't see anything." Margaret frowned.
"I don't think anyone does. Just me."
Ophelia's body shook, he is Alex. She moved closer.
"Who are you?" Alex questioned.
The cool air embraced his surroundings, and a shiver danced along his spine.
Ophelia blinked, her mouth hanging open. He was right in front of her and nothing came out.
"Do you need help? Are you friends with...Haven?" Alex questioned.
Ophelia gulped. He did know her.
"Ophelia. My name is Ophelia. Haven is my..."
A sudden twist of wind kicked up and knocked her back. She lost her balance and fell to the floor. She cried out in horror as the portal swirled violently and then snapped shut. The last thing she saw was Alex, reaching out for her.
6
Where’s Bethany?
Alex remained long after the last bell rang for class. Margaret had slid down against the wall, waiting for some signs of life.