Excerpt: Freak

Kyle was starting to get really aggravated with people. Didn’t they hear when their phones were going off? Why didn’t they answer them till they had rung for nearly a minute?! It was starting to get extremely annoying… what was even more annoying was that no one else seemed to be annoyed by it. They’d all jump after a minute or so after he started hearing it go off, and then act like everything was completely normal, answer their phones or texts, and just go on as if nothing was the matter at all.

Was everyone out to get him?

Was it a vast conspiracy at the mall? Because that’s where he was – the mall food court, sipping on a drink, staring into space, going mad bit by slow, agonizing, ring – tone – themed bit.

“Why can’t you all answer your phones!?!?!” he yelled, standing up from the table. The food court silenced slowly, people turning to stare at him. Suddenly the peace was shattered by the electronic version of ‘Ode to Joy’ from a cell phone.

Kyle screamed in frustration, grabbed his drink, and stormed out of the food court, down the stairs, and out the mall entrance. He climbed in his car, slammed the door, and started the engine, blaring Switchfoot from his stereo.

It was almost time for class, anyway. He drove down the streets of the East Side, wincing every time he heard a cell phone ringing… it was like it didn’t matter that his music was so loud, he shouldn’t be able to hear himself think. He glanced over to the car next to him when he heard a cell phone go off to his right. The girl in the driver’s seat was oblivious for about thirty seconds, then looked down, grabbed her phone, and placed it to her ear, talking animatedly.

Suddenly he heard the sounds of Tobymac’s “Slam” coming from his cell phone. He glanced down at it angrily and pulled it from the little holder on his car's center console. There was nothing. No sound, no ring, not a person calling. He threw it back into the holder.

“Great. Now I'm imagining things. I'm going mad. I know it.”

“"This is the SLAM! This is the ONE! We're gonna do it like it ain't been done before!” He jumped and grabbed at his phone. “What the heck?!” Flipping it open, he nearly shouted, “What?!”

Lerin’s quiet voice reached him from the other end of the line. “Sorry, I think I might have a wrong...”

“Oh, no, Lerin, it’s me. Sorry, what did you need?” He felt mortified for yelling.

“The professor asked me to call you. You are running late for class. Remember – we had an extra – credit assignment before class today. When you didn't show, I was starting to get worried... Prof said I should ...” her voice grew quieter, “said I should call you. Sorry. Apparently you're busy.”

“No, No, No. I'm fine. I’m sorry, stuff's been getting to me. I forgot, ok? I'll be there soon.” Shoot! How could he have forgotten that? There were thousands of other things in the world he could have done this afternoon, but he had promised her he would help her on that assignment. And now he’d let her down. He felt horrible. Just horrible.

“Are you alright?” came the quiet question that he knew would be asked.

“Well, to be brutally honest, no. Sorry. I... it’s hard to explain. I’ll have to tell you in person. See you at class, ok?”

“All right, but I really need this project completed. Could you please be on time for it tomorrow?”

“Sure. Sorry again. See you soon.”

“Bye,” she mumbled, and hung up.

He flipped the phone closed. “Stupid, stupid, Stupid! How could you forget!”

The phone in his hand buzzed and beeped... but it didn’t. How did he hear that, then? A couple seconds later, a text came in. Something was seriously wrong with this situation... and he was starting to think he knew what it was.