“Hermione’s gonna get eaten by the snake man. He’s gonna sneak up on her in the middle of the night and bite her arms off.”

“No he’s not!”

“Yes he is! He’s gonna find you, and he’s gonna eat half of you himself and he’s gonna feed the other half to his dragon, cuz you’re so tasty. You’re a tasty little snack for the snake man.”

“No I’m not! No I’m not!”

“Henri, stop teasing your little sister right now.”

“Aww, man now it’s raining again.”

“Of course it’s raining. Just look what you did to her. It’ll be raining for hours.”

***

I jump to my feet and back several paces in almost the same motion, my heart beating a million miles an hour.

How did I not smell anyone coming?

Oh yeah, the sensory overload. 

I can still smell the tingling tang of disinfectant and neon orange instant mac and cheese wafting through the windows of the school kitchen but all other scents have become a muddied amalgam.

Almost all scents.

I pick out the aroma of citrus and shaving cream the instant I lay eyes on Christopher George but it’s better that I pretend not to notice that one.

The last thing we want is him changing it up just to throw me off his trail.

If he really is…

My BRAIN sighs, if it’s possible to just think a sigh without actually doing it.

He looks too apologetic, his eyebrows furrowed with a mixture of confusion and worry.

I’m not supposed to care, but the second I look him in the face his gaze turns toward the sky again.

Normally it’s the same color as his eyes. Today they’re both gloomy, but his are bluer.

“I’m sorry,” he smiles sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to spook you, but I thought calling your name would scare you even more, since you’d come out here to c…”

His eyes glance over the tear streaks on my face and then go right back to admiring the clouds. I bite my lip in irritation and wipe the back of my hand across my cheek.

“I didn’t come out here for privacy. I was waiting for Amanda Ling, but she didn’t show.”

I hate the way that makes it sound like I got stood up for a date. She’s probably just taking forever fixing her hair, but Chris doesn’t know that and he nods with an expression like he’s pitying me.

Or maybe he’s just analyzing me?

What did Judith SAY about letting them know you can be weak? 

Now is the worst time for me to ruin protocol and that’s always when I start falling apart.

But I won’t fall that fast.

Out of habit I grab my lunch bag from where I left it sitting on the bleachers and hold it between Christopher George and me like a barrier.

I pretend that I don’t notice him noticing the defensiveness of my posture. 

I forgot to make my body lie too.

Judith knows how to turn a tilt of her head into an immaculate deception, but no matter how much practice my tongue has at spinning yarns, my mannerisms - an awkward smile, a motion of my eyes - they all still betray-

That I have yet to master the art of playing pretend.

I shift the motion of my backpack semi-subtly, and it transforms into a casual examination of an unzipped zipper, that I am definitely preoccupied with worrying about.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Christopher’s shoulders lower ever so slightly from their tense, elevated position, but it’s not quite enough to give me any real relief.

I still keep the backpack in between us.

I should say or - ask him something-

“We have to go home,” he says suddenly, and my mouth opens in dismay. “The teachers say there’s a thunderstorm coming.”

He raises his chin, nodding toward the dark clouds gathering above the school, as if he thinks I failed to notice them.

But since when do we get out of school because of a little rain? 

Some rain would honestly do this place good, given how bone dry it’s been for the last six weeks.

But before I can voice a doubt about anything, or ask anymore questions, Christopher has already turned back toward the school.

If this is a trick, it would be awfully strange to leave without waiting to see if I was coming with him.

Is that part of the trick?

For some reason, I ignore my confusion and turn to follow him. 

Unfortunately for me, despite my, very slightly, shorter legs, my stride is much faster than Christopher’s and I’m less than an inch away from him before he’s even reached the back door.

I try to step back, or intend to step back, but an odd shivering sensation seems to keep me from doing either, and all I can do is throw my hands up to keep from crashing into his knitted sweater.

Why am I trembling again.

I feel a wary discomfort in my neck - in my shoulders - something like a constant fight against tension and release that leaves me poker stiff.

Christopher George doesn’t seem to notice anything at all and simply holds the door open for me like a butler. Like he thinks that’s the only reason I’m not moving.

What’s going on?

Is my body going into some kind of lockdown?

I can’t remember that ever…

Pay attention!

It takes me two seconds to get my body to obey my commands again, and a subtle panic begins creeping into my chest again, that this might be some kind of new withdrawal symptom of the smelling salts.

The last time I got poisoned that badly, I started experiencing weird spasms nearly a week after the fainting spell.

What would happen if I lost all control now?

The blue eyes look at me with that same…worried…almost pitying look, and my skin turns raging hot. 

I have to move.

I can’t let…

The room is changing colors and a part of me thinks that I’m about ready to faint as I force my way past him into the narrow hallway.

But another part of me seems to turn every semblance of logic on its head.

Ask Christopher George about the snake…

Why would I think that? Why would I ask him of all people?

I mean - ask anyone? 

I mean-

There’s that humming again.

For some reason that makes me snap to attention like the beeping of a smoke alarm.

Inadvertently, I turn my head as if something darted past the edge of my peripheral, but I don’t see anything or notice anything out of the ordinary that could be making that noise.

I am losing it. Really really losing it.

Can migraines make your ears ring? Do intrusive thoughts become more like belligerent thoughts when you’re at the edges of a breakdown-?

A tangible dread begins to wash over me like slow but steady fog, but before I can go any further down my rabbit trail I’m distracted by a very loud and distinct buzzing which I’m CERTAIN is not a figment of my imagination.

Christopher George and I have just rounded the corner into the main hallway when we find ourselves swamped by a sea of students pouring out of classrooms and down the several flights of stairs in something like an aimless, giddy frenzy.

Principal Magworth’s voice is hushing and buzzing over the crackling outdated loud-speaker, “Attention students and teachers. This is an emergency announcement. Please pay careful attention.”

But nearly everyone is doing anything but that. 

On either side of Christopher George and I, our classmates nudge each other, whispering and chattering rather than listening, as if they actually ENJOY the danger of our situation and want to drag the ‘thrill’ out as long as possible.

Dear God save me from the insanity of small town boredom.

I feel like my bones are screaming at me as the crush of students grows denser around me every moment and I can’t breathe for all the smells of sweat and dirty hair that makes me gag twice as much as I inhale.

I can almost hear Mrs. Magworth sighs, and I’m sure that on whatever floor she’s doing her announcement, there’s an identical group of students whispering and laughing right outside of her door more than boisterously enough for her to hear them, joking about the oncoming storm.

“An unforeseen squall with high wind speeds has just been announced by the local news and it’s predicted to head our way.”

This time somebody shouts or screams - a combination of both as the reality of the danger finally registers en masse. But it’s not because of Mrs. Magworth’s message.

The lights on the entire floor explode and go out.

***

“Hermione, Henri, I need you to calm down. Listen to me. Whatever you do you can’t cry. It’ll break all the glass.”

It’ll knock the trees down.  

They’ll know we’re here.