41.

It was nearly dawn and it looked it looked like rain again. Freya could look forward to either a cold and wet bicycle ride to school, or another insufferable cab ride. Neither was appealing, but staying home was no better. She would just dwell on everything that was worrying her and slowly go insane.

Freya kept drifting off as she got dressed. She found herself sitting on the edge of her bed with one sock on and the other balled up in her hand. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting that way, she was spent and couldn’t find the energy to go on.

Her eyes fell on her guitar case, she’d gotten home so late last night there hadn’t been time to practice. Just one more thing to feel guilty about.

If you’re not going to bother practicing, I’m not going to bother coming.

Freya would never forget the way Mr. Mathis had said that, it was like a hornet caught in her head that stung her again and again. She took the Ovation out of its case, running her fingers along the edge of the fretboard, lingering on the pearl leaves. She plucked each string and listened, the G string was slightly out of tune. She turned the peg until it sounded right, then she loaded the tuner app on her phone and checked each string. They were all spot on. She didn’t really need the tuner but Mr. Mathis had insisted she was to use one every time she picked up a guitar. It was like Randall advising her to chalk her cue before every shot; consistency was everything.

Mr. Mathis had perfect pitch as well, but he’d warned her a head cold or “feeling low down” could mess her up, that she might wind up playing an entire show flat if she was careless. He didn’t trust her phone, he had a battered old Korg WT-12A Chromatic Tuner in his case that was older than she was.

Freya spent a few minutes working on the standard chord and note warmup routine she did every practice. Her fingers were stiff after all the action earlier, but she worked it out of them. Then she noodled a bit on a song she’d been trying to compose, but she could tell she wasn’t in the right place to find the next part of it.

Next, Freya tried playing something relaxing, picking through Greensleeves but she couldn’t feel the music, she was just going through the motions. Again and again she found herself drifting off, thinking about the torrid dream and messing up the notes.

It was six AM and the dawn began. Sunbeams spilled through her curtains and onto Yggdrasil’s leaves, scattering throughout the room. She walked over and parted the curtains, feeling the dawn on her skin. What did she really want to play?

On impulse, started to play Wild Horses, one of her favorite songs. She’d wanted to buy a twelve-string so she could do the Nasheville tuning for the Mick Taylor part, but Mr. Mathis had told her not to get ahead of herself. He said she should learn six string first, then nylon, then electric before bothering with a twelve-string. She couldn’t get the same sound on the Ovation of course, but she was enjoying it anyway.

As the sun rose Freya could feel the ball of tension in her chest begin to unknot. She thought about breakfast at the diner, summoning her courage to talk with the manager. She could see Dan, standing tensed with his fists raised at Malcolm. The river flowing past them as they sat on the bench spilling themselves out to each other. Most of all she thought about the long embrace at the end of the night. The chords were just flowing out of the guitar, she didn’t have to think, she didn’t have to try.

The feeling went on for the whole song, and when it was done she sat there for a while looking out the window, watching motes of dust dancing in the sunbeams. All her sorrows fled. Nothing could cling to her in this place.

Freya wiped her fingerprints off the ovation with the special cloth and set it back in its case. Then she picked up the Starball and held it up to the light, the sunlight flared around it like a violet corona. The orb was warm beneath her fingertips. She felt at peace for the first time she could remember. That was all that mattered.

* * *

Freya finally accepted it was late fall and picked out warmer gloves and a thick sweatshirt to wear under her windbreaker. Now when she shot down the hill on River Road the wind couldn’t touch her. All the soreness in her legs from yesterday was gone and she felt strong. She was planning to run again tonight after guitar practice. She hoped the dreams might not be so vivid if she ran the excess energy out of herself.

Fog was rolling up the Sillas River as she crossed the Thoreau Bridge, it smelled of salt. For a moment Freya was thrust back into the dream of the impossible causeway, the rising water that had swallowed everything. She pedaled faster, trying to get ahead of the feeling and she was sweating as she made it the parking lot that had sloughed off beneath her feet and avalanched into the dream sea. It felt solid enough this morning but she was still glad to get past it.

There were three long bike racks at the side entrance, as Freya locked up she wondered if she would be the only one who rode to school today. Inside Grayson the halls were nearly empty, not many people had arrived yet. The few teachers who saw Freya only nodded at her and sipped their coffee. They hadn’t summoned the energy to speak yet.

Freya could relate. She hadn’t slept nearly enough. Fragments of dream kept digging into her, tendrils writhing in the river, black water cascading down the auditorium steps. Nothing faded anymore. She tried to put the frantic morning behind her but it was impossible to forget, she was still a little tender with every step she took. She’d never felt so inflamed before.

The way she’d felt playing guitar was new too. Was that what she’d been practicing towards for so many years? To feel effortless? She worried she might never recapture it, that she’d spent everything in a moment no one else would ever hear.

Freya stashed her coat and gloves at her locker, returning the Trigonometry and World History books she’d needed for homework over the weekend. Then she picked up the English Literature and Earth Science books she’d need for first and second period. She closed her locker and glanced around the hall, afraid someone might have snuck up on her. There was something unsettled and unspoken in the air, but she couldn’t quite place it. It was probably just lack of sleep.

Freya had The Void Captain’s Tale in her backpack. On a normal day Freya would head to a her favorite secluded corner in the library to read until first period. Today she decided to sit on the benches inside the main entrance instead. She hoped someone from the party last night would see her as they arrived and chat with her, maybe that impact would be enough to knock her out of this strange orbit. The urge to talk with others was novel, something that had been absent from Freya for a long time. Of course, she was really hoping to see him, and she couldn’t help but smile at the idea.

It won’t last.

The thought struck like an intruder kicking in a door, and she knew at once it was true. What business did she have, smiling like an idiot at nothing in a hallway? Perching on a bench, hoping to catch a glimpse of a boy who only felt sorry for her?

It hadn’t even been a year, and here she was thinking about hooking up like nothing had happened. Lusting after the exact same thing she’d thrown in Lassa’s face. Freya had been pushing her mother out of her mind for days, and now Lassa was was center stage, demanding her attention. What if she never came back? What if she’d killed herself out there in the woods? It would all be on Freya, her ugly words, her feeble apology, she would never escape the guilt.

The bottom fell out. Freya didn’t want to be on this bench or even hidden away in the library. She didn’t want to be here at all. She wished there was a button to erase herself, a delete key for her entire life. All of the weight came back at once, and it was so much worse for its absence. Her vision narrowed, everything was closing in. Freya set her book on the bench and reached into her pocket for the Starball, she needed something to hold on to.

When her fingers brushed against the sphere, the heaviness felt less crushing, the tightness relaxed. She removed her hand from her pocket and the feeling began to creep back in.

It’s doing something to me. Freya thought. It wasn’t a realization, more of an acknowledgement, something she couldn’t ignore any longer. The Starball was changing her. She took it out and held it in her palm, feeling a glimmer of worry Malcolm might pop out of nowhere and snatch it from her again.

The Starball was hot. It had to expend energy to do this. There was an unformed urge running underneath her conscious thought. Freya kept her mind blank, trying to keep it from fully emerging. The awful feeling was retreating as she held the sphere, serenity was taking hold. She knew once it did, the unformed thought would die.

Freya began performing the Broken-Breath exercise from The Fragile Phoenix. As soon as a thought sprang up she exhaled and imagined her breath breaking it apart into tiny pieces. As she inhaled, she visualized the fragments tumbling down and then reforming into another thought, and she would breathe out and shatter it.. The cycle went on and on in her mind, turning like a wheel until she felt vacant. She left her book and backpack behind and walked down the hall, feeling pangs in her stomach with every step.

As Freya turned the combination dial of her padlock a bolt of nausea struck, but she was ready for it. She got the locker open and shoved her fist inside with the Starball clutched in her palm. She tried to let go but she couldn’t release, her fingers would not unlock. With her other hand she reached in and pried her fist open. The Starball clacked against the metal shelf and rolled to the back of the locker, rattling against the wire spine of a spiral-bound notebook. Freya clapped the locker door shut and all the panic she’d been pushing back rushed in. She clasped the lock.

The Starball was trying to control her! It was inside of her head somehow. The sudden headache when she’d tried to book a flight to Paris, the nausea she’d felt outside the science lab, it was mind control. Again she thought of the bead of blood on her palm.

Had it put something inside of her?

Freya’s steps were unsteady as she moved away from the locker. She returned to the bench where she’d left her things. She fumbled with the zipper as she stuffed The Void Captain’s Tale back into her backpack. Her hands were trembling. Now she really had to tell someone about this. It was all about to get so much worse.

Freya had a keen feeling she was missing something. The Starball had occupied more than space in her pocket. How much of what had happened since the night at the river had been her, alien how much had been the alien? The word sunk in deep, ALIEN.

The Starball was an alien intelligence. There was no denying what she’d seen beneath the microscope now. She’d carried the orb in her pocket like a her favorite aggie and ignored every single warning. She’d missed a hundred chances to tell someone else.

The thoughts went on and on, screaming in her mind as her pulse pounded in her ears. As the drumming faded, indifferent fog was rolling in to take its place. With muted dread Freya could feel the obliviating weight, the burden that would grind her insides to powder. Everything that had happened since the river had been an illusion, now she was seeing things as they were.

Freya needed to get off this bench and away from this place. People would start to arrive soon, they might try and talk with her. She knew she would be unable to respond, she had a clawing feeling in her chest like she’d swallowed something jagged.

Get up, get up, get up!

Freya couldn’t move. All those miles she’d run and the chances she’d taken weren’t hers. The willpower she’d thought she had was on loan and the interest had come due. Locked to the bench, she shut her eyes tightly. People were beginning to filter in through the main doors, they each noticed Freya and scoured her with their gazes. They saw a loser, the crazy girl with the dead dad who had lain in the rain. She finally managed to stand, she needed to go home right away.

“OH HEYY Freya!” A familiar voice called out behind Freya and she winced when she recognized it.

It was Jane Yang. Freya had to escape her, she couldn’t possibly deal right now. She wanted to run but her legs refused, they would only plod one foot in front of the other, moving in the wrong direction.

“What’s wrong with you? Jane asked, darting around in front of Freya. She had an ugly look on her face. “Can’t even look at me huh?”

Other people were looking at them. Freya needed to tell Jane to fuck off and leave her alone, but she couldn’t make the words.

“You ruined everything for me,” Jane accused, jabbing two fingers in Freya’s face. “You knew I was into him, so you turned everyone against me. Did you at least get a pity fuck out of it?” Jane’s voice had risen to a near shout, and more people were attracted to the commotion. Freya could only shake her head and keep moving.

“Don’t walk away from me! I’m talking to you!” Jane was howling, and a whole group of people were moving along with them, anxious to see a fight.

“Look at me!”

Jane moved into Freya’s way, and when Freya tried to step around she sidestepped in front of her again. Freya stopped and stared at her, she knew there were ways to fix this, words she could say to diffuse the situation but there was no traction, everything was sinking into the mire.

Jane was working herself up, shouting more abuse but Freya couldn’t even understand the words. All she could see was the girl who’d cried and cried at The Notebook. The girl who’d once been Freya’s friend, one of the Flock. The girl who’d been so terrified to bring home a C from her first semester of 8th grade English she threw up in Lassa’s car as they gave her a ride home. Freya looked from Jane to all the faces that had gathered around them, there was no sympathy, only hunger, eagerness to see them tear each other apart. Freya just wanted to lie down again and let them trample her.

She saw a familiar face through the haze, and felt relieved. Here was someone who could understand. Radomir was on the border of the crowd, trying to figure out what was happening. When he recognized Freya he slipped through the crowd to the front. Radomir’s eyes met Freya’s and it gave her the strength to speak.

“Leave me alone,” Freya said to Jane. But the words were just empty wind, they had no force.

“I will! Everyone will! No one wants you around! Everyone just feels sorry for you! Why don’t you just get it over with? Fucking kill yourself.”

Jane stood with her hands on her hips, her nose raised. The crowd erupted with gasps. They were still oohing with delight when Radomir slapped Jane as hard as he could. The crack of his hand was impossibly loud, it silenced the crowd. It caught Jane by surprise, she fell backward, and landed flat on her ass. No one caught her.

“Idiot. Do not speak,” Radomir said, standing over her with his palm in a blade, ready to hit her again.

Everyone found their voices at once, and there was chaos. Two boys rushed forward and grabbed Radomir’s arms, in a second he was going to get beaten up. Jane was on the ground, holding her face and looking shocked. She started to cry as a teacher’s voice shouted to break it up. It was Mrs. Struthers, she was nearly seventy years old but her voice cut right through the commotion.

“What in the world is going on here?” she asked.

“He hit me!” Jane cried, and voices echoed agreement.

“I struck her. I will take the punishment,” Radomir said. The two boys were still holding him. Someone finally helped Jane up, she was sobbing now.

“Why on earth did you do that?” Mrs. Struthers asked, and a dozen voices were clamoring to answer her at once. “Pipe down! I’m not asking you!” she addressed the mob. She pointed at Radomir.

“She said stupid things that cannot be allowed. Let go of me, I will not fight.”

“Well, let’s all go to the office. What a dumb way to start the week,” Mrs. Struthers said, shaking her head. “You too Miss Jokela.” For a moment Freya didn’t understand her, she was caught in the fog. When it got through she lowered her head and followed them to Mr. Evers’ office.