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Chapter 10: Queasy

I don't understand.

My life went from rom com to horror in five seconds flat.

It started as a romantic afternoon with Luke. We were kissing and reminiscing about our childhoods and Al the ice cream truck driver. Now the only ice cream I see in my future is when I-scream.

OK, this is not the time for jokes Millie, I scolded myself.

I may be going crazy. Or I may already be crazy... That would explain so much.

I squeezed my eyes shut, counted to three, and opened them again.

Bloody jersey still there.

So I'm not hallucinating.

Damn.

I was frozen in the hallway. My bag had slipped from my shoulders and landed with a thud next to my feet. This was a real situation. I'm not dreaming, I'm not hallucinating. This is real.

My eyes zoned in on the jersey. It was scrunched up and hanging over my brass doorknob. Blood dripped from the shirt to the carpet like teardrops.

I could recognize the basketball jersey as one from our school team – I've seen Luke in it enough times to recognize it.

"Breathe," I told myself, speaking out loud now.

Now that reality was the only option, I realized just how long it takes me to react. I mean, my reflexes have never been my strong suit.

I forced out all the scary thoughts. The whose blood is this? Is someone hurt? Is someone about to hurt me?

I need to move. I need to do something. Time has been rolling and I have not moved an inch. Instead, I'm having the longest conversation with myself in my head.

"Help," I squeaked.

Maybe a pigeon would've heard me. They have really good hearing, right?

Not the point.

I took three steps back and my legs felt like lead. Ooh boy, was I in trouble.

With shaky hands, I knelt to the ground and unzipped my bag. I rummaged for my phone while my eyes stayed fixed on the jersey and ultimately pulled it out. There was only one person I could think to call.

I just hoped he'd pick up.

The phone rang.

On the fourth ring, he picked up.

His voice breezed through the phone: "Changed your mind about knocking boots?"

I...

He could sense the tension on the call. "Minnie? What's wrong?"

"There's..." I exhaled and tried again, "I..."

I don't know why the words weren't coming to me. I guess I was scared to verbalize what I was seeing. It would make it infinitely more real.

"Stay there. I'm coming over," he said and hung up.

Thank you.

I exhaled a sigh of relief. I felt better already knowing that Luke was coming over. This situation had made me scared and vulnerable and I feel like he's a source of confidence and strength.

Then I remembered something.

Flora was here.

I stood up and left the contents of my backpack sprawled across the hallway. My hands gripped the banister as I peered downstairs. Flora was sitting on our green sofa, with her laptop on her lap and the TV on in front of her. Her hair was wet and wrapped in a towel on top of her head.

She was eating Cheetos.

"Um..." I coughed to clear my throat, "Flora?"

She didn't respond. Her head bobbed and I realized that she had earphones in. With the sound of the TV and the music in her earphones, there was no way she would hear me.

The front door knocked – and I knew who that was. I was about to run downstairs when he realized that our front door was unlocked and strolled in.

Seeing Luke at the hallway of our door sent the bag of Cheetos flying out of Flora's hands. Her laptop flopped off her lap and onto the couch and she whipped her hair out of the towel.

I've never seen anyone react so quickly to anything before.

Luke was taken aback. He kept his distance as he walked round the back of the couch and towards the staircase.

"Luke Dawson!" she exclaimed, following him around the back of the couch, "You're in our house! Do you want to stay for dinner? We can invite some of your-"

"Minnie," Luke exhaled, seeing me staring down at them from the second floor.

"Oh, wrong house," Flora sighed sadly, "No Minnie here."

We both ignored her as Luke bolted up the stairs, two steps at a time. He wrapped his strong arms around me, and I buried my head into his chest, wishing, wishing that I never had to look up.

Being with Luke was like a dream. Why did reality have to be this way?

"Millie? Luke? What are you up to?" Flora asked, running up the stairs after him.

Her music was playing in the background, so was the TV and whatever else she was doing. There was so much noise.

"Luke," I whispered, and slowly raised my finger. I pointed at my door. My bedroom door, the room where I slept every night... was violated.

Luke was staring intently at me, trying to understand what had made me this way. Just ten minutes ago, we had been laughing and kissing in the front seat of his car. Now...

He looked down at my finger and then followed where it was pointing to.

The. Blood. On. My. Doorknob.

"AHHHHHH!" A high-pitched scream startled us.

We both spun around, and Luke's arm gripped me tighter. Who the-

Flora was staring at my bedroom door, screaming an octave higher than eagle's screech.

So she didn't know then.

The jersey dripped blood. How much blood does this thing have? Will it ever stop dripping?! Each drop terrified me because it was one more drop out of someone's body...

"Please tell me that's ketchup," Flora leaned against me, feeling very faint.

Oh yeah, she gets queasy around blood and needles.

Luke let go of me and went towards it, "What the f-"

The door slammed against my bedroom wall as Luke kicked it open. Both my sister and I jumped.

Luke walked into the room without any fear. If anything, he looked p*ssed.

"Be careful," I warned, running forwards to help him.

There could be an axe-wielding murderer in my bedroom! Or a psychotic criminal hiding behind my stuffed animals. And he just strolls in-

"Millie!" my sister screamed.

Honestly, her screams are worse than a key scraping against a car.

I realized why she was screaming. I had just stepped into the pool of blood.

Oh! No, no! I hopped around, trying to shake my shoe off me without touching the blood. My sister looked even more queasy now and hurried towards the nearest window. She shoved it open and stuck her head out to breathe fresh air.

I hope she wasn't about to throw up.

"Austin Taylor," she exclaimed at something below. "Oh my god! Austin and a really old lady! Help!"

**

"Austin?" I looked at Luke, scared for what that meant.

He stared back at me and took my hand. We both joined my sister at the window and peered out. I braced myself for what I was about to see.

Austin had been eating fries at the mall an hour ago and he wasn't wearing a jersey. This couldn't be his blood... not Austin.

"Austin," Luke called out.

His voice was firm. Mine had all but disappeared. I leaned against Luke, losing most of my energy. He held onto me.

"Hey man!" Austin waved up at us, "How's it going? We brought Millie's car back!"

Sure enough, there was my old car parked in front of our house. Gloria unbuckled herself and came out. I thought I would be happier to see them and my car.

Gloria waved up at us, clutching onto her handbag. She handed Austin the keys.

"Millie, catch!" he yelled and threw my keys at me.

Has he forgotten all he knew about me? I can't catch!

The key soared through the air towards us.

...Catching the necklace during the street fight has set expectations at a really wrong level...

I tried to catch the keys, but they flew between my flailing arms and landed perfectly in Luke's outstretched hand. He slid them into my pocket and planted a kiss on my hair.

Chad came out from under the awning. He'd apparently come with Austin but had stood under the shade during this whole interaction.

"My sunglasses are dirty," he announced, walking across the lawn to my front door, "Mind if I clean them inside?"

"NO!" the three of us yelled.

Too late. The damn door was still unlocked. We heard Chad step into our home. The three of us backed away from the window and went towards the banisters.

Please don't come upstairs.

We watched as both Chad and Austin walked into the house, oblivious to the crime that had taken place in my bedroom.

"I forgot how bare this house is," Chad muttered as he looked around, "I don't get why you don't buy art."

"He's been inside our house before?" Flora gasped.

"Yeah, you filmed it, remember?" I answered, remembering how I was passed out on my couch when they all strolled in.

"I still find it crazy that you two live on the same street," Austin exclaimed, walking into the house after Chad, "Hey! I bet you can see Luke's bedroom from yours!"

He walked towards the staircase and bounded upstairs before we could stop him. He wanted to see my view...

"You can't," I told him.

It's true. Luke's bedroom faces the other side.

I heard the sound of the sink in the kitchen as Chad poured water over his dirty sunglasses. Who wears glasses in November?

"Where's your shoe?" Austin asked me.

My sister, Luke and I were standing at the head of the staircase, blocking him from walking past us. He stared at my feet, where only one sneaker was on. My orange sock was in full view.

"What's going on?" Austin asked, suspiciously.

He stood on his tip toes and peered over us.

"WHAT IS THAT?!" Austin yelled, almost falling down the stairs.  He must've seen the jersey.

There was a crash in the kitchen. The sound of Austin shouting had freaked Chad out.

"ARMANI!" Chad cursed.

His sunglasses must have been designer. RIP.

**

We crowded around my front door. It was now wide open thanks to Luke's kick, and there was no body inside. My room looked untouched, just as messy as when I had left it this morning.

"You should really make your bed in the morning," Flora mumbled to me.

So not the time.

Chad, Austin and Luke were standing in a row, staring at the jersey.

Chad asked, "Did you accidentally kill someone?"

There was a silence.

"It's Art's jersey." Luke said.

Somehow, Luke was already a step ahead of us in solving this.  I should've called him sooner.

"What?!" I gasped, finding it hard to breathe.

I don't know who Art is, but he sounded like a human. And the thought of a human hurt-

"How do you know?" Flora was gazing up at Luke in awe.

"It's his jersey number," Luke answered.

I support Art was on the basketball team with Luke.

"But he was with us an hour ago at the mall," Chad frowned, "So someone must have gotten to him after we left."

"Who else knew we were there?" Luke asked.

"All of us," Chad said, looking around.  

"I saw Bianca in the store with her brother," I said.

"And Jake," Chad answered.

"And everyone I know," Austin said, raising his phone, "I posted the french fries onto my story... and I tagged everyone and the location."

"So we have a murder mystery on our hands," Flora decided.

"And who are you?" Chad asked.

Have they not met?

"Are we sure that's blood?" I asked, "Before we jump to conclusions..."

"GLORIA!" Austin called out the window, "We need a mop. Did you bring one by any chance?"

"Austin, she doesn't walk around with cleaning products," Luke sighed.

"But it's Gloria," Austin answered simply, "She has everything."

"No sweetie," Gloria's sweet voice answered back, "Is everything alright up there?  Should I make some hot chocolate?"

Chad tapped my shoulder and asked, "Why don't you have a shoe?"

"OK, everyone, stop." Luke told everyone off, "Let's deal with this now.  I'm calling Art."

"I hope he's OK."

We huddled around Luke's phone as he dialed his friend, and we all waited with baited breath.  I inhaled and was too scared to exhale.  I was just hoping that Art was OK. 

The phone rang.

Thank you to the amazing @Ethannnnn who sent me this incredible photo on instagram. 

And thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter.  Honestly, it cracked me up so much that I had to post this next chapter quickly.  <3 ya!  

Please vote and comment so that I'll be energized to write the next one asap!  I post on instagram (@NatalieInACorner) to let you know when I'll update.  

And as for the mystery caller...

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