Too bizarre.
I gently stroke his fur, almost fooling myself into thinking I can feel it. It's probably just my mind telling me what I should be feeling. I sniff my fingers, but only smell pine and dirt.
Too, too weird.
Jester does that shaky-shiver thing dogs do when they're stretching, then lays his head, literally, in my lap.
I glance over at Dale. He is stirring with a soft groan. Opening his eyes, he looks at his clock. He slowly sits up and rubs his face then musses his curls. A big yawn stretches his mouth wide before he goes still and looks around the room. "Nicole?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
He smiles and turns in the direction of my voice.
"Good morning." He almost looks awkward that I'm sitting on the bed next to him, but not in a bad way, like a happy, blushy type awkward.
My eyebrows bunch together.
"Hey."
He throws back the covers and gets out of bed. Grabbing a band off his nightstand, he pulls his hair back into a ponytail. It looks really good that way. I mean, sure you can see his scar pretty well, but with that ponytail... he kind of looks hot.
I bite my tongue and frown. This accident is so screwing with my brain. I must have hit my head pretty damn hard.
In spite of my scolding, I still can't help watching him move around the room.
"Are you okay?" His head pops through a fresh t-shirt. "You seem really quiet."
"Yeah, I just... it took it me a long time to get here. I guess I'm just tired."
"Weren't you at home?"
Dale pulls his jeans out of the closet and slips them over his Ironman boxer shorts.
"I was, but then I went back to my body. I was there most of the night and..."
My shoulders go taut as I remember my nighttime visitor.
"And what?"
Tears rush up from nowhere, making my voice wobble.
"I heard footsteps."
Dale whips around to face me, hope lighting his eyes.
"Did you call out to them?"
"I couldn't."
"Why not?"
I do three short sniffs and let the tears come.
"Because my Dad went and saw the sheriff and he was talking about someone trying to hurt me intentionally and it freaked me out. What if that person who was there last night just came to finish the job? What if they really want me dead?"
"Okay, shhhh, it's okay." Dale sits down next to me on the bed. I sense if he could see me, that he'd be wrapping me in a hug right now. I ignore how badly I want that to happen. "Nicole, you're talking a little crazy. I'm sure the car that hit you was accidental. Didn't you say they seemed drunk?"
I mumble a quiet yes.
"Look at me."
"I am."
"In the eyes."
I do as I'm told. His deep brown gaze is intoxicating. "Promise me that if you hear footsteps again, you’ll scream your lungs out."
"Okay."
"Promise?"
"Yes."
"Alright." Dale looks away from me, breaking contact and shattering my little magical moment.
I clear my throat and stand up.
"I think the person got a call."
"Yeah?"
"It was a really unusual ringtone, almost like someone whistling. I don't know, maybe we can keep an ear out for it or something."
"Good idea." Dale throws his things into his bag and grabs the map book. "Come on, let's go do some more scouting before school."
We spend an hour or so driving further along the road we tried yesterday. Dale peppers me with questions about ringtones and I finally give in and hum it to him. I think it's pointless. We'll probably never hear it again anyway.
As we drive to school, I once again complain that we've just wasted our time and Dale once again reminds me that we have crossed off another section of road.
I roll my eyes at his optimistic attitude.
"Maybe we'll have some luck at school. I might go chat to Amber and Penny, see if they can shed some more light on where you might have gone."
"They're not going to tell you anything."
"Would you stop being so negative please, you're messing with my morning vibe."
I groan.
"Uch! You're a happy morning person, aren't you?"
"And let me guess, you're a night owl."
"Maybe." I try to squash my smile.
He pulls into the parking lot and finds a spot near the concrete stairs. Getting out of the car, he leaves his door wide open while hitching his bag onto his shoulder.
"I'm out."
He slams the door and we start walking up the stairs together.
I turn to survey the crowd, looking for my friends, instead I spot Adam Hutton getting off the bus. He's looking frazzled, his blond locks scruffier than usual.
"Adam's catching the bus."
"Huh?" Dale looks over his shoulder. "His mom must have his car again today."
"But don't you think that's weird?"
"Why would it be weird?" Dale mumbles out the side of his mouth.
"Well, how long does a car take to get fixed?"
Dale frowns then veers left, opening a side door and leading me into an empty classroom. "What are you saying?"
"I don't know, I was just wondering..."
"Don't. If her car is waiting for a part, it takes time to come in."
"Yeah, I just have a feeling."
"Don't have a feeling, it's not him."
"How do you know?"
"He's my friend, Nicole. I know he wouldn't drive drunk. I know if he did hit you he would 'fess up straight away. He's a good guy."
Dale's face has taken on a granite quality. His eyes swirl dark brown and I swear his scar is pulsing. I look down at my nails and remind myself that he's helping me and that Adam is possibly his only friend at this school.
I clear my throat and shrug.
"You're right. I guess I'm just feeling on edge after last night."
He steps towards me.
"I'm gonna find you. I won't give up, okay?"
I smile at his sweet expression.
"Just stop coming up with wild hunches about my friends."
"Okay, fine."
I nod and follow him out of the room.
On the way to his locker, we spot Amber and Penny heading towards the dance studios. Dale veers right and follows them. He waits until they are dumping their bags by the floor before approaching them.
Amber scrunches up her nose.
"What do you want?"
"Hey girls."
He smiles at Penny and her politeness forces her to fire one back at him.
"I was just wondering if you'd heard from Nicole."
Penny steps forward with a sympathetic look.
"I'm really sorry, buddy, but she's kind of with Trent. I don't think she's into you."
Dale frowns.
"I'm not into her."
Ouch! Why does that sting?
"I'm just asking where she is."
"We don't know." Amber shrugs.
"But you’re her best friends. Hasn't she called you?"
"No, Mr. Busybody, she hasn't."
"Why aren't you guys more worried?"
"Look, Nicole is an independent girl. She flits off whenever she wants to and she never thinks about anybody but herself. I don't know where she is right now and frankly, I don't really care."
I feel like Amber's just punched me in the gut. I gaze at her with an open mouth, unable to put words to the anger and hurt bubbling in my system.