Instinct by Mattie Dunman

again.”
    The tone for the
end of class sounds and Jake grabs his bag and breezes past me without a second
glance. I stand watching after him for a full minute before I get my own bag
and start shutting down the computers since Jake neglected to turn his off. My
back is to the door when I hear someone clear his throat.
    “I want to
touch you,” Shockey says. I swing around to face him. He is only inches from
me.
    “Sorry, what?”
I stammer, my stomach shifting queasily.
    “I said I
heard raised voices a bit ago. Is everything alright?”
    “Oh. Um, yeah.
Everything’s fine. Just a little…journalists’ tiff,” I answer, surreptitiously
taking a step back. I am up to here with psycho guys getting in my face today.
    Shockey’s face
twists into an awkward smile. “Glad to hear it. Are you settling in?” His voice
practically drips with fatherly concern. He stands between me and the door.
    “Yeah,
everybody’s been great.” I shift slightly to the left. He tracks me with his
eyes, a hard glint hiding behind the mask of normalcy. I repress a shudder of
revulsion.
    “Well, if you
need anything, come to me. I’ll be happy to help,” he says, lingering over the
word help as though savoring the taste on his tongue.
    I manage a
weak, insincere smile. “Thanks.” I gesture toward the door. “Well, I gotta get
going.”
    He shifts
slightly and waves for me to go. I slip past him, cringing away from his touch,
but my shoulder brushes his arm. I can’t be sure, but I think he sniffs my hair
as I pass.
    “See you
tomorrow, Derry.”
    “Yeah, see you,”
I stammer and take off down the hallway like my feet are on fire. If I go the
rest of my life without being within fifty feet of that man again, I will die
happy.
    I make it to
the loop where parents wait to pick up their kids before I realize what a
mistake I’ve made. I told Mom this morning that she didn’t need to pick me up
since Nicole was going to give me the grand tour. She is no doubt at the store
now, not waiting patiently in the line of cars.
    “Damn it!” I grumble,
stamping my foot. I dig out my phone and call her, but her voicemail comes on.
    “I probably
won’t return your call,” her recorded voice cheerfully pierces my ears and I
hit end, knowing it’s useless to keep trying. She’s got her phone turned off,
probably sitting in her purse back in the storeroom. I try the store number,
and after ten rings she picks up.
                “I’m going to
overcharge this guy,” she says brightly and I bite back a smile. Mom has the
shopkeeper’s innate ability to sense which customers will pay more than
something is worth and those who know how to spot a price hike.
    “Hey, Mom.
Nicole wasn’t at school today, so I don’t have a ride.”
    There is a
pause and I hear the cash register slam shut. “It’s a little busy here. Can you
hang out for a bit? Or maybe get a ride with someone else?”
    I sigh and
look around. Most of the cars in the student lot have cleared out, and I don’t
recognize any of the people still milling about. The sound of my mom’s voice is
muffled as she talks to a customer, her bubbly laugh suddenly grating on my
nerves.
    “You know
what? Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there in a bit.”
    “Okay, Sweetie.
Call me if you need me,” she says distractedly and hangs up. I stare down at my
phone and fight the burn of tears behind my eyes. I just want to go home. I
don’t want to have to walk to the store; it’s at least four miles into town
from the school.
    A loud
rumbling intrudes into my moment of despair and I glance up. A glossy black
motorcycle roars past me, swinging to a halt in front of the double doors to my
left, where the last students of the day are exiting to the parking lot. I
tense as Jake emerges and catches sight of the helmeted rider waiting at the
curb. He strides forward and waves his arms angrily, pointing past the school
in a clear message for the rider to go away. The guy on the