3 Who Are You?

"Oh my gosh!" a voice sparked through the crash, "Are you okay?!" Stammering of footsteps slide closer to me. A hand situated itself unto my shoulder as I lifted my legs to under myself. My hand settled unto covering my nose. My vision rolled up toned bronze legs, a floral red skirt that paired with a tucked in white tank top. Piercingly stunning blue eyes coursed over me in sympathy as sexily natural curved eyebrows lowered themselves.

"I..." my voice paused upon rising in uncertainty. My feet rose themselves along with my body in an unbalanced attempt. My side scraped unto the doorway. The girl thoughtfully hung her eyes while locking unto me. To much my dismay, all my excuses flared dryly.

A held breath dissipated from my lips in a hefty sigh. "I heard you playing. I wanted to see who was behind that instrument," words streamed from my subtle breaths truthfully. The girl shifted her eyes nervously as she took a hold of her arm shyly. Relief eased my brain as I witnessed her reaction. Maybe it hadn't sounded that bad.

"Thanks," she murmured, "I'm not very good."

I scuffed at her humility. "Right," I rose an eyebrow, "And that was just amateur? I'm no musically genius, but I know what I heard."

"I.. um," the girl struggled as she released her grip that latched her arm, "I'm sorry? I just think I have more practice to do." Her eyes settled grimly into mine.

My mouth gaped in a barely seen drop. Was I too harsh? Stiffness over took my legs and arms as I attempted to wrack my brain for the correct words. This is definitely not a good start. I internally cursed myself. Discomfort latched into me as I came to terms that I often was much smoother than this.

"I liked it," I cut my tone dry, "That's all I meant. Are you new here? I haven't seen you around?" I inquired to displace my awkward comments from the conversation.

She chuckled in a pitched tone. My insides brushed into a melted mush as it engulfed my ears. I had been unable to determine a laugh better suited for her.

"No," she declared, "I've been at this school since freshman year."

A heap of embarrassment heated within me. She could have only recognized me to find such amusement. Was she in my grade? My classes? "What is your name?" I requested, remaining unaffected to her eyes, though my brain told a different tale.

"I'm Freya Scott," she smiled pleasantly, "You?"

Ah shit! My eyes reviewed her more carefully. I had never seen Freya before, so the thought that I wouldn't recognize her never occurred to me. All people mentioned about her features was her beauty; her alluring blonde hair, dazzling blue eyes... My eyes fell a drop from her. I'm an idiot. Why else did O'Conner bring me into this building if it hadn't been a plot for us to meet? A sigh fell tumbling out of my lips.

I remained my composure. "I'm Lacey Bennett," I grinned in a welcome manner. So this was the girl... And what did Jackson have planned for her...? Had he even met her? My concentration planted itself to it's previous focus; the girl in front of me. "Hey I would love to see you play more," I spoke smoothly, "Can I come back to watch you?"

Her eyes fell abroad at my suggestion. She smiled weakly as she stroked her arm with her hand. Was she always this shy? "Yeah that'd be nice," she nodded, "Sorry.. no one has ever heard me play. Or asked to listen to me. It startled me."

A lump formed heavily into my throat. Words I shouldn't speak formed into my thoughts as I glimpsed unto this girl. She seemed harmless. Was Jackson stalking her? How did he know she played here? Awkwardness overtook the two of us as I had yet to utter a word. I smiled to dissipate the stillness I created.

"I'm surprised. You should let more people listen to you," I suggested honestly, "Well, it was nice meeting you. But I have a friend waiting for me."

"Oh okay," she grinned warmly, "Thanks for the compliment."

I nodded, then shifted myself as my feet carried me out the door. My footsteps fell from mild to a surging pound. My unwanted heart beat rose within my chest. The sunlight dipped into me as I breathlessly exited the interior of the building. I hunched over to my knees as I attempted to sooth my breaths. Is it too late to back out?

Freya Scott dawdled deep within my conscious for the remaining hours. Uneasiness yet conflicting relief fell upon my mind at not having an encounter with O'Conner. I dreaded the time my eyes would fall upon him, and I'd have to deliver a report. I never withdrew from his plans before. Now happened to feel to be the worst timing to do so. If O'Conner didn't have me as his partner, he would find another willing comrade.

This scheme would be one I wanted under my watchful eyes. I had to know what Jackson was up to.

The bell sounded into my ears, startling me from my focused set mind. A nail seeped below my shoulder blade. I twisted my attention to it, catching the finger as I withdrew it. "Really Olivia?" I sighed.

Olivia frowned. "Why doesn't that ever hurt you?"

I motioned my head back and forth dismissively. Why were my friends obsessed with that? It occurred ever since our physical examines, where the nurse poked into our skin deeper and deeper until we sensed the intrusion. When I hadn't announced to any pain longer than any of them, the four fell into an unspoken agreement of me as designated guinea pig.

Samantha ventured into room along side Kayla. Kayla's expression strained roughly into what could only be concentration. Sam sighed upon approaching us, already addressing the elephant between us, "Kayla will not stop this thing," she gestured to Kayla's expression, "She makes dumb faces and I can not talk her out of it."

Laughs trailed out from Olivia and I, Olivia's laughter had overpowered mine as she clenched her side. So she was actually serious this morning? "Kayla?" I furrowed my eyebrow.

Kayla crossed her arms in a pout. She refused to lock her eyes into any of ours as she position her face further from us. "It isn't funny," she demanded, "I am tired of people tellin' what is on my mind by my face!" Sam flinched as Kayla had explained her distress. She held her breaths in as if attempting to not object.

"Kayla," she snapped, "Who cares?!" Samantha breathed in disapproval.

"I. Do." Kayla bore her chilled eyes into Samantha's, "I'm sick of it."

Samantha leaned back as an idea washed over her facial features. "I can tell even with your dumb faces," she smirked.