The Hidden

that.

I was thinking about it at school on my way to fourth period, when I ran into Cyn. She was coming down the opposite hall, and I turned to go the other way.

Cyn hurried to catch up as soon as she caught sight of me.

“Abbey, wait!” she called.

I was tempted to ignore her. I couldn’t stop thinking about that dream, and it felt like dark clouds were hanging over me with every step I took. I really wasn’t in the mood to talk about what had happened with her and Kristen. But I stopped anyway.

“What is it, Cyn?” I said slowly.

She looked around us and pulled me over to a section of empty lockers. “I wanted to talk to you about last night. Are you pissed at me?”

I shifted my books. “No. It’s not you. I’m just in a bad mood.”

“Is it because you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“It’s stupid.”

“What is it?” I demanded. “What’s stupid?”

She glanced down at the floor. “God, I could use a cigarette.” Then she glanced up at me. “Trying to quit.”

She was wearing some type of bangle bracelets, and they all clanked back and forth as she fidgeted. It was an explosion of sound that felt like nails on a chalkboard.

I wanted to shake her as she stalled. “Just tell me, Cyn,” I finally said.

“It’s douche bag Mark. He told a couple of people about what happened at the seance.”

What do they know? What did they hear? “Told people what?”

“About the lights going out. He said that you got scared and bailed. I told him he was an asshole, and then I keyed the side of his car to make sure he got the point.”

“Thanks?”

I tried to look serious, but I couldn’t help but laugh. He was spreading rumors about me being afraid of the dark, and Cyn thought that would upset me? It was like that game we used to play in elementary school, telephone. God only knew what the rumor had morphed into now. Talk about funny.

“Why are you laughing?” she asked.

I choked back another giggle. “Because,” I said. “That’s pretty much the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Compared to the things they were saying about me when Kristen died …” I shook my head. “It would take a lot more than that to upset me.”

“Yeah, okay. Glad you find it funny,” Cyn said.

“I do find it funny. But thanks for sticking up for me. I really appreciate that.”

She gazed at me with a mix of humor and disbelief on her face. Then her expression turned serious. “Abbey, did I say anything to you at the seance? About being careful?”

Now it was my turn to fidget. I ground the heel of my shoe into the wooden floors and stubbed my toe against the bottom of the locker doors. “I don’t remember. Maybe. Why?”

“It’s just this feeling I have. Sometimes I get these … I don’t know how to word it. They’re just … feelings. But this one’s telling me you should be careful. I know you warned me to watch out, but I’m thinking maybe you should too. Okay?”

The second bell rang. Now I was technically late for class.

“Yeah, I will,” I said nonchalantly, turning away from her.

“We cool?” she asked.

“Absolutely. Catch you later.”

I peeked back at her only once as I walked away. She was still standing by the lockers, frowning, playing absentmindedly with the bracelets on her arm. I didn’t know what was going on with her, or what it meant, but somehow, or some way, Cyn had channeled Kristen.

Now I just wondered how long it would take for her to realize it.

I didn’t wait for Caspian to come pick me up after school, but started home right away.

When I got there, I found a note from Mom saying that she would be out for the evening taking real estate classes with Sophie.

“Not a problem,” I said out loud to the note. I just wanted to see Caspian.

As soon as I thought his name, I paused. Where is Caspian? Is he still up in my room?

I took the stairs two at a time, knowing, just knowing, what I was going to find. Please, don’t let him be asleep. Just let him be busy. Drawing.

My book bag fell out of my grasp and landed on the floor with a thud when I saw him. He was asleep again, but he wasn’t on the bed this time. Instead, he was slumped over in my desk chair. His pad and pencils lay on the desk in front of him.

It didn’t look comfortable, and his face … His face was the worst part. It was contorted in agony, in a grimace that must have happened right before he fell asleep, fell into that dark place. It looked like his dreams were haunting him.

I rushed over and knelt beside him, putting out a hand.

It went right though without the familiar tingle. I couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t move him, or smooth back his hair. Couldn’t wake him up and tell him it was all going to get better.

My fingers fumbled in my pocket, and I found my phone. I dialed Sophie and Kame’s number, but it went straight to voice mail. I hung up and tried again, but it happened again. Finally I decided to call the only other Revenant number that was listed on my phone.

Cacey’s.

She didn’t even have her voice mail set up, just an automated voice that repeated the number I had dialed and told me to leave my message. Growling in frustration, I waited for the beep, then said, “Guys! I’ve been trying to call you. These little things called cell phones don’t work if you don’t pick up on the other end, you know. Caspian is asleep again. And … he doesn’t look good. Can one of you come over and help me move him? Call me, okay? Bye.”

Stepping over to the bed, I sat down on the edge, determined to keep a vigil until someone called me back.

But the call never came. Two hours and six more tries later, I threw the phone across the room and began to pace. This has to mean something. The seance, the warning from Kristen, the look of pain on Caspian’s face. Something is happening.

My head was pounding, probably because I needed to eat dinner, but I wasn’t hungry. After a long look at Caspian behind me, I wandered downstairs and settled on some tea and crackers. It was bland, but it made my head stop aching, at least.

Getting up to throw away the empty cracker box, I stopped when I saw the nearby container of recyclables. There were two empty tin cans sitting on top (sliced cranberries), and a strange thought crossed my mind. Of a game we used to play in elementary school. Telephone …

What the hell. I needed something to keep me occupied.

I grabbed the cans and rinsed them out, patting them thoroughly dry with a paper towel. Then I peeled off the labels and threw them away. I found the string in the junk drawer and pulled a sharp knife off the counter. Positioning the knife on top of the tin, I hammered down with my fist, and the blade poked a jagged hole through. I repeated the motion with the other can. Then I pulled out a long piece of string, threaded one end through the hole, and tied it into a large knot. I left plenty of slack and tied the other end into a knot in the hole of the other can.

Tucking the tins under my arm, I went back upstairs. I felt a little silly when I got there, glancing down at my homemade tin can telephones, and it took a couple of minutes to actually work up the courage to use them.

Wedging one of the tin cans in between two books to hold it still, I propped the books up by Caspian’s ear. Then I pulled the string until it was taut, and carried the other tin can into my closet. I was able to close the door