Page 6 of The Intruder

It’s a challenge to flip off Anton Peterson without the principal’s secretary seeing it, but I manage to do it. I’ve got experience. Anton, who has just as much experience, returns the gesture.

I’ve got only two minutes before my next period begins, which means I’ve got to get a move on if I don’t want to be late. I hate to arrive in the middle of class, and then everybody knows I’ve been at the principal’s office. Not that everyone isn’t already gossiping. I don’t know what is so interesting about a stupid peanut butter and jelly sandwich that I didn’t even end up eating before Mrs. Kahill grabbed it out of my hands.

On my way out, I almost ran smack into someone that I almost never see inside the principal’s office. Brittany Carter.

If I could trade lives with anyone in the school, it would be Brittany Carter. She has tons of friends, she is super beautiful, and all the teachers love her. Oh, and she gets straight A’s without being a big nerd. Brittany is basically perfect.

“Hi,” I say to Brittany.

Brittany flips a lock of glossy black hair over her shoulder. Her dark hair contrasts sharply with her clear blue eyes, very pale skin, and her lips are always perfectly red even when she’s not wearing lip gloss. Brittany is basically Snow White come to life. “Hey, Ella.”

Even though Brittany and I have been in the same class since kindergarten, I’m always surprised when she knows who I am. It’s kind of like a celebrity knowing my name. She doesn’t usually say hello to me. Brittany might be popular, but she’s not mean like Anton is. Well, except for that time when she invited the whole class to her fourth-grade birthday party and didn’t invite me. That one stung.

“So what are you here for?” I ask her. I’m dying to know what Little Miss Perfect could possibly have done to get sent to the principal’s office. “I can’t believe you got sent to the principal.”

“I didn’t,” Brittany sniffs. “My mom is picking me up early to go to the dentist.”

Oh. I guess that makes sense. After all, why would a teacher send Brittany to the principal? They all love her.

I look up and discover Anton has been watching our interaction. For a split second, our eyes meet, but then he rubs at his sore right cheekbone and looks away. At least I’m not the only one here who’s a troublemaker.

5

NOW

CASEY

I scream.

Of course I do. Who wouldn’t? I let out what sounds like quite a bloodcurdling scream if I do say so myself. I back up several steps, practically tripping over my bed. The candle slips from my fingers and immediately starts rolling. I glance over at the dresser where I keep my gun, and then when I look back up…

The face is gone.

I rush over to the window, my heart pounding. I stare out into the darkening woods, searching for the person who was looking into my bedroom. But I don’t see anybody. No faces—not even a flicker of movement.

Nothing.

I stay by the window, searching the trees in the distance. The woods look so foreboding at night—I don’t wander out there after dark, even though it’s most likely safe. After all, aside from a single neighbor about five minutes away, I’m the only one who lives out here. It’s far off the beaten path.

So who was staring into my window?

Could it have been Rudy? That’s my first thought of course. Not only did I injure his shoulder, but I humiliated him by making him eat dirt. As satisfying as that was for me, it was a mistake. Rudy is the sort of guy who would hold a grudge.

But then again, Rudy isn’t stupid. Even if he hates me, he wouldn’t risk his life in a dangerous storm just to torment me.

Would he?

No, I doubt it. If I had to bet, Rudy is back at home, his socks propped up on his coffee table, his big toe poking through a large hole in the fabric. (I have no proof, but I suspect every single one of his socks has at least one hole.) There’s one other person it could be, but I doubt he’d be lurking around behind my cabin.

Maybe I imagined it.

It definitely seemed real as I was staring out my window, but admittedly, my attention was focused on the candle. And it’s getting very dark out—it’s hard to see much. The rain hasn’t started in earnest yet, but there’s a strong drizzle going on. Could that have given the illusion of a white face staring out at me?

I take a shaky breath. The more I think about it, the more certain I feel that I imagined it. I live in the middle of nowhere, and there’s a storm brewing. Why would a stranger be lurking outside my cabin tonight of all nights? There wouldn’t be. It’s much more likely that the light from the moon hit the window in a funny way, giving the momentary appearance of a face, even though nobody was actually there. That’s why they call it the man in the moon, right?

This damn storm is making me hallucinate.

I get down on the floor to try to fish the candle out from under my bed. After feeling around for a couple of minutes, my fingers wrap around a cylindrical object. I pull out my candle as well as quite a few dust bunnies. I do my best to blow off the dust, then I set up the candle on my windowsill.