This is a Gift

When Liadan got home that evening, all she wanted to do was collapse on her bed and have a good cry. Crying wasn’t something she particularly liked doing, but on the way home, way after the interviews with the police, way after the EMT had checked on her, way after the hugs from random students she didn’t know, her head had begun to ache again. Or maybe she’d just remembered her headache. She’d started to forget about it with the adrenaline rush, but it came back in full force. She’d never texted her family to tell them she loved them, or anything about what was happening. In fact, she hadn’t even pulled her phone out.

Her mother was standing in the doorway when she walked in, crying. She immediately grabbed Liadan and clung to her.

“My baby, I love you so much, my baby.” She kissed Liadan repeatedly on the side of her face, the one spot her mother could reach without letting go. “I saw it on the news and you wouldn’t answer your phone.”

Liadan started crying, too, releasing all of the stress from the last few weeks in one wet rush. Her brother came in from his room at the noise and joined the hug. Her father walked in the door and then he was crying and hugging all three of them. It seemed to last forever, the repeated “I love yous” and the crying. Eventually it was decided that they would go for dinner, to a local pizza place. Liadan felt like she was on autopilot; word hit social media and people with whom she couldn’t even remember the last time she had spoken were messaging her and asking if she was okay. She tried her best to field all of the questions, but she wasn’t sure she was processing through it at all. The scene replayed in her mind anytime someone asked her what happened, but worse were the images that had been in her mind before anything anyone else saw. How was she supposed to deal with something when no one knew?

The pizza place had the news on, and Liadan looked up to see the local news anchors, with a headline that said “Shooting at Local Community College.”

“And now we head over to Amanda Adams, who’s on the scene at North Horizon College. Amanda?”

The image of her school appeared on the television screen before flashed to a smiling redhead. It was dark now, most of the students that had been there for the evening class were long since gone.

“Well, Scott, this evening, in the middle of one of the college’s History classes, Nathan Bourguignon pulled a gun.” The camera began to pan through the halls, passed the library and then up the stairs to Liadan’s Thursday class room. “Authorities are unsure as to his reasoning, but witnesses believe that he intended to end his own life.”

The next image on the screen was none other than Madison Flores. It was a scene shot earlier, while there were still traces of sunlight left, and she could only remember Madison being one of the few to take this opportunity to try and get their fifteen minutes of fame. Liadan could tell that Madison had tried to make herself look more presentable before going on air; there weren’t any makeup streaked tears and Madison was now wearing a big navy blue hoodie to hide her full figure. “It was so strange,” Madison said, and shook her head. “He just all of a sudden pulled the gun and then threw it aside. The girl next to me caught it.”

Liadan felt her heart jolt, feeling strangely as if Madison was about to give up the secret identity she didn’t actually have, but then they cut back to the reporter. It was the pitch blackness with the college as a backdrop.

“After the car accident last week and now a student bringing a gun to the school, the events have a lot of students on edge.” The reporter concluded, and then the news moved on. “I’m not real cool with you attending that school anymore, Liadan.” Liadan’s mother spoke up, and Liadan just bit her lip, not saying a word.

When Liadan managed to get to her room, her phone buzzed with a text message.

Hey, cute outfit today. It said. Liadan tried to laugh. It was from a number she didn’t recognize, and she was getting more of those than she wanted. Still, this one didn’t seem threatening the way the others had. Maybe this one wasn’t someone being creepy, and someone from school. She figured (or told herself) whomever it was would identify themselves.

Hey, thanks. She replied, and added a smiley face. When no response came, she tried to shrug it off.

This one isn’t scary, Ryan. Not everyone is out to get out. She needed to get it together. Too many other things to figure out besides text messages for someone who probably had a wrong number. She turned off her light and forced herself to think about her homework. Soon, she was asleep.

--

A couple weeks later, when students were allowed to resume classes if they chose – and Liadan chose, because she needed the distraction – she was walking into the school breathing sighs of relief. As unsettling as it had been to see someone pull a gun in class and point it at someone only two feet away from her, routine made her feel better. The two weeks she hadn’t been at school ate at her and she became a recluse; only emerging for her afterschool job and then staying home. Her parents had begun to suspect that she was dealing heavily with what happened at her school, and even suggested she see a therapist.

“It’s normal to not be okay after things like this, Lia.” Her mother had told her that morning.

“No one will think differently if you need to talk to someone,” her father had told her the night before when she got home from work.

It was all very comforting, but Liadan didn’t know how to tell them that that wasn’t what was on her mind. Or maybe it was. At this point, she wasn’t even sure what was affecting her emotionally and what wasn’t.

There was a cluster of students gathered in the lobby, crowded around something Liadan couldn’t quite see and making the breath of relief choke with claustrophobia from the sheer amount of people. She wasn’t really sure why she was clustering around to see what everyone else seemed so interested in, maybe it was curiosity, but it was more likely the voice speaking loudly for the room to hear. It was a feminine voice, a pleasant lilt flowing through the power in the words.

“We need gun control, now!”

A flyer was pressed into Liadan’s hand: Gun Control Now, it said in big bold letters. Underneath the words the page had an outline of meetings. Statistics for gun violence were featured, indicating the reason the group was started and why they were necessary.

“A third of deaths by a gun are homicides and what happened here two weeks ago could have been just another number. Hundreds of Americans are killed each year.”

She pushed through the crowd to see who the speaker was, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of thoughts beginning to push their way into her mind. She tried to focus on what was being said, forcing out the cruel words being sent towards this woman. She had long, white blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Her features were pointed, her nose angled down like a beak. She wasn’t holding any microphones or signs, her words just being sent into the world with abandon while she gestured to the crowd, her eyes pleading for them to understand the weight they carried.

“If there hadn’t been one brave student in that class to grab the gun before anything happened, we wouldn’t be able to resume classes a mere two weeks later.”

Liadan hesitated. The woman wasn’t anyone she recognized and she definitely wasn’t in her History class that afternoon. She wondered how word had gotten around about what happened and what those stories were, or if this woman was just misspeaking to gain sympathy from the crowd. Her eyes swept those gathered and landed on Liadan and locked. Instantly Liadan wanted to melt away into the mob of people and blend in with all of the words people were shouting in their heads.

“You were in there, weren’t you? You’re the one who took the gun away from him. Would you speak?” Her tone had shifted from being strong and loud to tender and soft and she took a step towards Liadan.

Liadan vigorously shook her head no and stepped back.

“My name is Ivy.” She hated the way the woman introduced herself; as if Liadan was a frightened child Ivy was trying to coax out of a hiding spot. The eyes of a hundred people were draining and the urge to break down into sobs was excruciating. The quickness of breath and the feeling of wanting to crawl out of her own skin came creeping back. First up her spine like a cold chill, and then her entire body broke out in sweat. She shook her head again, half to drive home the point that she did NOT want to speak, half to hide the shiver that went through her. The white knit cap on her head slid slightly, and she could feel the dangling star earrings get caught in her hair.

The woman pressed her lips together and gave a quick nod. She turned on her heel and began speaking again.“

She must have some insane PTSD.”

“I can’t tell if she’s brave or crazy for coming back here.”

“I hope she’s seen a counselor.”

Ivy’s voice was clear and loud, but Liadan couldn’t focus on it; all of the thoughts from her fellow students were flying through her mind, distracting her. As quickly and as stealthily as she could, she dodged around the crowd, her bookbag hitting multiple people on the way out, slowing her progress and making her shoulder ache from being tugged so many times.

Around the corner, in the hallway that led back to the computer labs, she finally found some momentary solitude. She pressed her back up against a wall, letting her book bag slide off her shoulder and hit the ground. Her body trembled as she kept balance with her hands on her knees, but eventually she just gave up. No one was around to witness her breakdown, save for some possible security cameras. The way her year had been going, those cameras had likely gotten quite the show, anyway. She slid down the wall and landed on the ground, covering her eyes with the palms of her hands.

“Get it together, Ryan,” she said out loud to herself.

Later, after Liadan finally calmed herself enough to attend class, she sat in her Government course not hearing a single word. She felt someone’s eyes on her. Was she being paranoid? Was this backlash from today? As surreptitiously as she could, she glanced around the class and noticed a blonde guy sitting towards the back of the room – the same blonde guy who had been watching her in the bookshop and whose hands had disappeared in the hallway. She turned back around, acting as if she hadn’t noticed, but she could feel him watching her throughout the class. She didn’t pursue him when class got out this time. If one more weird thing happened to her she was sure she wouldn’t be able to control the mental breakdown she was already teetering on the edge of. Instead, she waited until the rest of the class left to slowly follow them out. Most students gave her a wide berth now, as the girl who caught the gun. Ironic, that for all her fears of being treated differently she actually was, but not because of her own freakdom. She seated herself at a table in the commons area sullenly, pulling her hoodie up to protect herself from seeing anyone staring at her. That’s when a text message popped up on her phone.

Tsk tsk. Not paying attention in class? Checks and balances are important things to know! Liadan read the message, slightly unnerved by it. Instead of letting it show, she decided to take the offensive and texted back: Seems like someone wasn’t paying attention, either. Best turn that attitude around if you want to pass the test! As soon as she sent the text, her phone started to ring, causing her to jump. It was only Ana, so Liadan answered it. “Hey, girl, hey.” She said cheerfully, relieved to hear a friendly voice.

“Hola, mi Amiga.” Ana replied. “So, before I feel bad about telling you this story…how many hot guys are in your classes?”

“Oh, twenty,” Liadan replied, without missing a beat. “And they’re all in love with me.” Liadan opened a bag of chips and listened to Ana laugh on the other line. She knew that Ana was only asking about her love life as a courtesy: Liadan had been chronically single all through high school for no real reason, while Analise might as well have been a jar of honey left out for the flies. She often regaled Liadan with her sexcapades, which truthfully made Liadan feel very very single. Still, the conversation made her feel instantly better. Ana knew about the gun, but not the details leading up to the event. Ana believed the best way for Liadan to move past it was not to think about it, so every day she called with a different story or a guy to tell her about.

“Whoo, mamacita. Your first semester and already breaking hearts?” Ana’s ethnicity was white and Native American, but she often said she needed to put all of her years of Spanish in high school to good use. “That makes me feel better about what I’m about to tell you. So, you know that guy Ethan I was telling you about?”

Liadan smiled, preparing herself for a recap of flirting she was sure to be privy to, when she noticed the same young blonde man from before watching her. He was across the commons now, sitting at a table surrounded by friends, but she could tell his attention was on Liadan and what she was doing by the way he would occasionally glance her way. She watched him a bit herself; he was laughing intermittently at what his friends were saying. He obviously had a girlfriend; the girl sitting next to him had an unmoving hand on his thigh. He had a serious face, and when he smiled, she could see the dimples in each cheek. He seemed like a regular, maybe even nice, guy yet somehow every time he came around Liadan felt uncomfortable. It was strange to think he had a girlfriend when he spent so much time paying attention to Liadan. The whole time she was watching him, he didn’t glance her way. Weird how that didn’t calm her feelings on the matter. “Lia? You still with me?” Ana’s voice chimed through the cell phone and snapped Liadan out of staring back at her proposed stalker.

“Oh, huh? Yeah. And hey, I can’t help it if I’m drop dead gorgeous.” Liadan said, managing to spill her bag of chips all over her lap as she tried to act normal and not pull a stalker act of her own. “Oh.” She muttered the single syllable word as she knocked over her can of soda in the process.

Ana’s confused voice chimed in her ear. “What? What does that have to do with Ethan?”

Liadan, at this point, completely stopped listening. Her attention was on the stain beginning to seep into her white pants and the small scene she was creating in the middle of the commons. She stared at the can of soda as she dabbed napkins on her legs as if it were the very reason it was falling instead of her. It laid there on its side, the small pool on the table causing drops to fall to the ground. She wished there was some way she could reverse the entire incident. Just like the piece of paper earlier, it did. She stared at it, shocked to see the soda can rise just enough to hang in midair - just before the tipping point - a few drops of the sweet liquid hanging just below it. She slowly turned and looked around the commons, keeping care to make sure her hoodie stayed on her head, but no one else seemed to notice it. No one else, that is, except for the same young blonde man. Liadan looked at him, and for a moment they made eye contact; and then he looked away. She held her gaze on him a little longer, and then looked back at the soda can. Brown liquid began cascading to the floor again. She scrambled to grab it before all of her soda was lost.

“Liadan? Hello?” Ana said, a note of irritation entering her tone. Instead of replying, Liadan just lowered the phone, absently ending the call. She watched as the brown liquid spread from the can unto the floor, her mind running a mile a minute. Her phone chimed a text message. She shook her head and looked at her phone.

Better clean that up. Sticky sticky.

Liadan immediately looked over at the blonde young man, but he was gone.

--

It was an odd thing, to be scared of her own self. She constantly changed location whenever she felt the slightest bit of unease, because somehow a change of scenery made her feel better. If something bad happened in one location, it was tainted: best to move on. That’s how she found herself in the courtyard outside. She didn’t like sitting in the hallways anymore, remembering the breakdown she’d had in one. She couldn’t sit in the cafeteria, because that was the place she first realized she could “read minds” (she mentally had to put quotation marks around the words). The courtyard was still a place she felt relatively normal, and so far so good; the weather was warm, and she changed her iPod to only playing soothing, instrumental music. Flyers for the Halloween party were posted on the wall near her, and one began to flicker in the slight breeze that moved through. It was a week away.

Costume contest.

Live DJ courtesy the music department.

Free entry.

Liadan read the flyer absently, organizing her notes from the day, scattered all over the table in front of her. The sensation of being watched came over her again, and so did the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. Maybe someone had connected the dots that she couldn’t even locate and discovered she was the one at the center of all the weirdness. Soon she was going to be hauled off to a laboratory, or worse, locked in a room because she was clearly losing her mind. The all-too-familiar blonde guy was seated on some cement steps leading to a side door of the school. He was texting and seemingly paying very little attention to Liadan. Finally, enough was enough, she told herself with a confidence she was surprised to find. Somewhere her conscience told her this was displacement, but hardly anyone listened to the little voice in their head and honestly, she was completely through with voices in her head. She threw all of her notes into her bag and stood up, marching over to him. He looked up and saw her coming and began to pick up his items as well; she stomped in front of him right as he stood up.

“Why are you following me?” She demanded.

A coy smile played across his lips. “I’m not following you.” He stopped packing up; probably had quickly sized her up and realized she wasn’t exactly a threat.

“You’re always around,” she insisted. “Yeah,” he gestured towards the school. “I go here.”

Liadan knitted her eyebrows together in frustration. “You’re always around me.”

He chuckled, and that dimpled smile struck Liadan as forced. It almost made her more annoyed. He didn’t reply, but looked over her shoulder. Madison.

“Hey, Liadan, how’s it going?”

Liadan looked back at her. “Fine, do you need something? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.” She didn’t bother to hear Madison’s response, waving her hand, and turned back to the blonde haired mystery man, but he was gone.

“Yeah, I need to talk to you.” Madison’s tone was strong, and it caused Liadan to do a complete about-face. Her stomach dropped, all bravado gone and the feeling that she was about to be in an argument sinking in.

“You know what I don’t understand, Lia? How that gun flew from that kid’s hand into yours. He didn’t throw it, that much I know.”

Liadan suddenly knew that she needed to be very careful about the words she chose next.

“What are you trying to say?”

Madison crossed her arms, her eyes fixed solely on Liadan. “Why do weird things happen around you?”

This was it. Her worst fears were coming true.

“I..uh..”

“Because I was beginning to be afraid of you, but I watch the SyFy channel a lot.”

“Uh…uh huh.” Not the response she was entirely expecting, though there was a growing number of people in the scared-of-Liadan club. She waited for Madison’s next words.

“And I think that maybe you need a friend and sidekick.” She stepped around Liadan and sat where the blonde guy had been a moment before. “If you’re some kind of mutant, or maybe just one of those girls that’s psychic and doesn’t know it, you’ll need someone you can count on. To lean on when times get tough.” She patted the spot next to her so Liadan would sit down, too. Reluctantly, Liadan did. The rollercoaster drop from impending fight to cheesy network sci-fi drama had her mind spinning trying to keep up. She licked her lips and squinted; the simultaneous thoughts of how to get out of this delicately and how to make sure Madison didn’t reveal the secret identity she didn’t realize she had were running through her head.

“Madison, I don’t know what you think you saw, but he definitely threw that gun. I didn’t grab it.” Liadan spoke slowly, looking directly at her classmate.

Madison frowned. “I know you didn’t grab it, but you caught it so easily.” She shook her head and stood up. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I’ll prove I’m trustworthy. And I’ll find out who you really are, Liadan.”

She turned and walked off, both hands holding the straps of her backpack. Liadan watched her go and wished she could disappear as easily as the guy stalking her.