Page 50 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares
Rachel may not be able to see the flaws in that rumor, but I could. I knew better than to listen to it. Just as I knew that the only thing my fear did was give Issac power over me. And that was not okay. I was going to take my power back.
When I woke up this morning, I didn’t look over my shoulder or try to find a place to hide. I was bound and determined to get back to my normal routine. Issac Kratz and his friends weren’t worth the wasted effort.
The second that thought left my head, the world around me quieted down. There were no more ominous footsteps echoing behind me or heavy breathing from someone who wasn’t there. It was just me, the smell of my coffee, and birds singing outside.
I sucked in a deep breath of the fresh morning air wafting in through my open kitchen window.
This was how it should be. A serene start to my day, full of sunshine and the scent of crisp morning dew.
Sighing contentedly, I sat down at the kitchen table and went over my notes from yesterday’s classes.
As I pored over various seismic charts, I realized that I hadn’t checked my data in days. Last year, I used all the babysitting money I’d saved up to buy a seismograph, then Mom and I took a trip out to Mount St. Helens, where I buried it in the side of the mountain.
It wasn’t for anything serious—professionals were already watching the mountain, and they didn’t need me to keep an eye on it—but I thought it would be fun to collect my own data. Lately, there had been some interesting activity, so much so that I’d gone from checking the charts weekly to twice a day. With the exception of the past three days, which meant I had some recordings to look over.
There was one problem with that. When I opened my laptop to check the readings, I couldn’t find the notebook where I recorded all my data.
Where was it? I had it on Friday before I went for breakfast. Did I put it in my bag? I was running late. I remembered jotting down numbers before running out the door, so it was possible. But where was my bag? The last place I had that was…
Realization dawned on me in a gruffly rumbled, “Shit.”
I left it in the cafeteria. Goddamnit. Maybe it wasn’t that bad? It wasn’t as if it were a designer bag. I highly doubted anyone here would want an old, crocheted bag. There wasn’t anythingworth much in there, except for maybe the tiger’s eye necklace Mom gave me, and that was only worth a couple of dollars. So, someone probably turned it in.
Or Issac has it.
“No,” I argued with my thoughts.
Why would Issac or his friends be interested in my bag? It was worth nothing. It had sentimental value for me, seeing as my grandma made it. But for them, it would be garbage, right?
I looked over at the feathered head staring at me through my living room window, with his big yellow eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. He doesn’t have it.”
The owl slowly tipped its head to the side as if say, Sure, because your luck is going to change now.
“Listen, Mr. Owl, the sun is out, so I’m not afraid of you.” I blew a lock of hair out of my face. “And I’m not afraid of Issac either.”
Just because he was an asshole who thought he could do whatever he wanted didn’t mean I was afraid of him. Given the reaction of both the cops and campus security to my claims, one could argue that he could, in fact, do what he wanted.
But that didn’t mean that I was scared. If—and that was a big if—Issac did have my bag, I would go and get it back. I could stand up for myself. And I had a new can of pepper spray.
I grimaced as the owl continued to tilt its head until its face was almost upside down. Why was it looking at me like that?
“Get out of my window, you creepy demon bird.”
“Hoot.”
“Ah,” I screeched at the sudden sound and threw my almost empty mug across the room.
I swear it laughed at me.
“That’s it.” I got up and stormed into my room to change.
Today was going to be a normal morning, damnit. I was going to go on my run like I did every day. And no creepy demonbirds or possible bag-stealing assholes were going to ruin that. I could deal with my missing bag later after I had a nice, normal routine-filled day of scheduled breaks and classes, which would hopefully remain Rachel-free.
She’d show up eventually. She always did. Don’t get me wrong, it was sweet that she wanted to look out for me, but every time I turned around, there she was.
The girl even followed me to my classes yesterday. Ever been to a geology lab with someone who didn’t know what slate was? Needless to say, that was not a productive class.
If I were going to have a friend, I suppose there were worse options. At least with her, I didn’t have to worry about carrying the conversation. Rachel talked so much that most of the time, I could only get the odd word in.
