“Ms. Eversor? Can I be excused to the restroom, please? I’m feeling sick.”
It’s not a lie. My stomach is a huge knot of worry and stress, to the point where I feel like I’m going to throw up from it. I have to find Finn. Now.
She looks concerned. “Let me write you a pass,” she says, heading over to her desk.
I get up and follow her on shaky legs, doing my best to blink back the tears that might betray me.
She finishes signing with a flourish, holding the pass out for me to take, when suddenly, I freeze with my hand extended.
Another memory rears up, the memory of a sequined, gloved hand complete with jangling bangle bracelets, pushing against a polished chrome wall. Bracelets like the ones right in front of me.
That was right before she’d tried her best to kill me.
43
The Other Traveler
I look with dawning horror at the hall pass in my hand. That script. That curling, beautiful script. I saw it on a Post-it note that was placed on an article in a yellowed newspaper—an article that directed me to chase a ghost story that happened on a bridge.
Eversor opens her file drawer to put the notepad with the passes away, and I see her purse sitting inside. Her large brown purse. A large brown purse that’s exactly the same shape and size as the one I tripped over on the roof. And how easy would it have been for her to suggest to Chloe that someone else could fix the lights on the stage if she was afraid of heights?
I am starting to shake, but I manage to fold my hand around the pass and remember to keep on breathing.
“Jessa?” she asks, still smiling that overly concerned smile. “Are you all right?”
“I—I really have to go,” I stammer, keeping my eyes on her the whole time, just waiting for her to spring. She remains as she is, with her smile firmly in place.
“I hope you feel better,” she says. “If you need to go to the nurse, stop back and I’ll escort you there.”
“Thank you. I will.” I edge toward the door, still not entirely sure I’m going to make it.
She smiles placidly, and I say nothing else to tip her off. She’s holding all the cards, or at least the only card I care about: Finn. I suddenly want to hit her right in the face. No wonder she was late to class. She spent her advisory period kidnapping Finn and torturing me.
I give her a nod, hoping she can’t read the wild panic in my eyes. Then I walk calmly out to the hallway. I swear, I can feel her eyes on me, but I’m not going to turn around and betray what I know.
I pass my locker, and I keep on going, with my eyes locked on the door at the end of the hall. I’m not even going to the restroom. I’ll deal with the repercussions later. I have to get out of here.
“St. Clair!”
I turn panicked eyes to Ben, and then my head swivels to look back. Eversor is watching me, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Is she going to kill me? She can’t do that—not here. Not in front of everyone. Can she?
I don’t want Ben in her line of fire, so I deliberately ignore him and keep going.
I get a few more steps before he trots up next to me.
“What’s going on?” He’s looking at me like he’s actually concerned, so I guess my poker face isn’t as good as I thought it was.
“Why are you out in the hall?” I say, forcing a smile and hoping I look something close to normal. I don’t want to glance toward Eversor again.
“I’m going to the library to do some research,” he says.
“I have to go,” I tell him. He reaches out, putting his hand on my arm.
“You’re shaking,” he says, surprised. “What’s the matter?”
“Just walk with me,” I say under my breath. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
I look back over my shoulder again, trying to make it look casual. “She’s not watching anymore. Good.”
“Who?”
“Ms. Eversor.”
“Why would she be?”
“It’s a long story. Keep walking.”
He looks back now, too. “What is going on?”
He’s seriously confused and I don’t blame him, but I don’t have time to talk.
“I have to get out of here. Finn is in danger.”
“Wait—what? Danger?” He stops again and I make an exasperated sound.
“Look, just trust me, all right? Walk.” I give him a push from behind. “Walk fast. Let’s get outside and I’ll explain.”
Of course, I have no idea how I’ll explain this. We’re out the doors, and I pull him to the side, up against the building.
“Do you have your truck here?”
He looks at me blankly. “Yeah. Why? What’s going on, St. Clair? What do you mean, ‘Finn is in danger’?”
“Not just Finn,” I say, gesturing wildly. “But Danny. And Mom. Please, Ben—I know you’re still mad at me but … can you help me?” I’m pleading, but I don’t care. I need his help.
He puts his hands up. “Slow down. Just start at the beginning and—”
“I don’t have time for that!” I explode. “We have to get out of here! Ben, please!”