Will You Be My Friend? (6 page)

Beth tossed and turned in bed that night. She was still up when she heard Joan go to bed in the guest room that doubled as Joan's room on the nights she babysat. Beth was worrying about just how she'd get into the student records room at Glenside Middle School the next day. She knew that tomorrow would be her one and only shot at trying to discover a clue to break open the mystery of just who she was.

The school would probably be empty since it would be Saturday, and that might mean it could also be locked. Slipping into a school she didn't belong to on a day when no students were there was one thing. Breaking and entering was a whole other thing, and something she wanted no part of.

Maybe someone will be there,
Beth thought.
Maybe someone will be there cleaning the school, or the teachers have a meeting or something. Maybe a door will be unlocked.

Finally, still without a clear plan in mind, she dozed off to sleep.

“Beth!”

A faint voice pierced Beth's sleep.

“Beth!” someone called again, louder this time.

Beth stirred in her bed.
Mom,
she thought.
What did she forget to tell me? That I'm supposed to breathe and eat and—

“BETH!” someone screamed from downstairs.

Beth bolted upright in her bed. That wasn't her mom's voice or Joan's. She threw on a sweatshirt and walked quickly to the top of the stairs.

“Hello!” she called down.

No reply.

“Who's there?” she shouted.

Still silence.

“I guess the voice was in a dream,” she mumbled, then she turned to head back to bed.

“Beth!” She heard the voice again.

“All right,” she said, slowly turning back. “I'm definitely not asleep now.”

Beth climbed down the stairs, her mind racing.
Who could be in the house? And why am I going downstairs alone?

Despite not having answers to these questions, she continued. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Beth flipped on the hall light.

She saw no one.

“Beth,” someone said, now in a mere whisper.

“Who's there?” Beth called out. “Who's in my house?”

No reply.

Beth moved slowly down the hall in the direction of the voice.

“Where are you?” she called out. “Who are you?”

“Beth,” came a faint cry from the living room.

Beth turned the corner at the far end of the hall and stepped into the living room. What she saw there startled and confused her.

Every wall in the room was covered with a full-length mirror. Mirrors also hung suspended from the ceiling and lined the floors.

This is all wrong,
Beth thought.
There are no mirrors in my living room.

What disturbed Beth more than the sudden appearance of all these mirrors was the image contained in each one.

Staring out from each silvered surface was Beth herself.

Or was it Lizzie?

Even stranger was the fact that each girl Beth saw in each mirror was dressed differently and doing something different. One combed her hair. One read a book. One kicked a soccer ball. None of them were actually a reflection of Beth. They were more like windows than mirrors—Beth was looking into windows showing other people, other lives.

And then the strangest thing yet happened. As Beth stared at each image, she suddenly found herself remembering doing the things she saw in the mirrors. She had a vivid flash of memory in which she scored the winning goal in a soccer game. A rush of pride and exhilaration flooded through her as if the event had just happened.

I remember that! But how? I have no memories other than the past year, and I've never played soccer. Yet I can recall every tiny detail of that goal!

Turning her head to glance into another mirror, Beth spotted one of the girls blowing out candles at a birthday party. She stood at a table crowded with kids and leaned over to reach the cake.

My birthday party!
she thought.
I remember that cake. I remember that purple dress I was wearing. I loved that dress. I remember feeling so loved, so happy that everyone was there for me.

Beth watched herself blow out the candles. Curls of black smoke rose from the charred wicks. She got an instant sense memory and could smell the smoke right then, right there in her living room, in the middle of the night.

How can this be?

Looking down into a mirror on the floor, Beth stared wide-eyed as she saw herself step out of the main entrance to a hospital. She grasped someone's hand, but she couldn't see enough of the person to clearly make out whose it was.

I remember leaving the hospital, but I don't remember being sick. Is that my mom holding my hand. Could this be right after my accident?

Beth shook her head and rubbed her eyes.

How can I remember these things? I have no memories before this year, yet I am recalling all these things perfectly. I actually remember experiencing them, and not just vague memories, but feelings, smells, and sounds. This is impossible!

As if reacting to her thoughts, the images in the mirrors decided to take impossible to the next level. One by one the girls in the mirrors stepped out of the glass, like two-dimensional paper dolls come to life.

Beth backed away. Every nerve in her body told her to run, yet something kept her from bolting. A strange curiosity mingled with her fear, coupled with the overwhelming desire for answers, as if somehow these walking mirror people might be the key to unlocking her hidden past.

The girls stepped clumsily toward Beth. Several popped up from the mirrors on the floor, breaking free from the surface of their glass prisons, like swimmers stepping from silver ponds.

“Who are you?” Beth screamed. “What is happening?”

Moving as if they were connected as one being, the mirror girls each raised a hand and pointed at Beth.

“Me?” she asked. “You are all me?”

The girls drew their arms back toward their bodies, and each girl embraced herself in a hug. Then suddenly every mirror girl in the room toppled over, smashing to the floor, exploding in a shower of glass slivers.

Beth stared down in horror at the pile of broken glass in the center of her living room.

Beth opened her eyes. She was in her bed, in her room.

Another strange dream.

She propped herself up on one elbow and turned toward her dresser. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she gasped. The image in the mirror did exactly the same thing.

That's a real mirror in the real world,
she thought, trying to calm down,
not a crazy mirror from the crazy world in your dreams.

Dreams. Now that her dream had ended, Beth could not summon a single memory from her past, not even those that were so vivid in the dreams. She recalled the weirdness with the mirrors and had a vague sensation of having remembered specifics from her life, but now they were gone. As if they only existed in her dreams.

She glanced at her alarm clock.

Saturday morning, 7:33 a.m.
She might as well get up. She only had one shot to get into the Glenside Middle School records, and she still didn't really have a plan. All she knew was that she had to get into that school.

Beth showered, got dressed, and made herself some breakfast. At eight thirty Joan left. Before she did, she made Beth repeat what she'd promised to her mom as well: She wouldn't go anywhere. She wouldn't even open the door. Not for any reason.

As Beth munched on a piece of toast, she considered her options.

I'm twelve years old, just like all the other seventh graders who attend the school. I could be going there on a Saturday because I left an important book there, or because I have a special meeting with a teacher, or because a club that I was a member of had a weekend meeting. I should be able to walk into Glenside just like I belong there. But then again, nobody will know me.

Beth sighed. What other choice did she have? She had to go for it.

She loaded her camera, phone, laptop, directions on how to walk to Glenside from her house, and a printout of the photo of Lizzie into her backpack. Then she slipped out the front door and headed down her block. She was grateful that it was a warm, sunny day. It was at least a two-hour walk to Glenside, and Beth was happy she wouldn't have to do it in the rain or cold.

It didn't take her long to realize that she really had never been out in the world on her own before. Any trips she made to town were with her mom or in a car with her mom driving, so she never really had to pay attention to where she was going.

The farther from home Beth got the more lost she became. Soon nothing looked familiar—no streets, no houses, no stores. She believed that she was heading in the direction of Glenside Middle School, but she grew anxious.

What if I get lost and I'm not home before Mom?
Beth worried.
Don't be ridiculous. Mom won't be home until tonight.

She tried to calm herself down, but she was not doing a very good job.

Beth kept walking. At each intersection she debated with herself which way to turn. Confused, she considered turning around, going home, and just giving up her quest. But something drove her to keep moving forward.

Might as well keep going,
she thought.

She continued. And continued to have no idea where she was.

After about a half hour, the feeling started—the feeling that someone was following her.

Beth stopped and glanced over her shoulder but saw no one. She turned back and continued.

Beth took a few steps forward and turned back again. Still no one there.

Walking faster now, she heard a voice call out.

“Bess! Hey, Bess!” the voice shouted from behind her.

Beth turned around and saw a girl a few years older than she. The girl smiled and waved at her.

“Bess, how are you?” the girl asked.

Beth felt legitimately frightened now. She realized just how foreign it felt to be away from home. And it didn't help that she was lost. And now a total stranger thought she was someone else, for the second time this month!

She turned back and walked away even more quickly than before, not sure where she was going, but certain that she just wanted to be away from this girl.

“Snob!” the girl yelled after her. “You're too good for me now? I haven't seen you in years and you can't even say hello?”

Beth kept walking. She felt bad that the girl thought she was being snobby, but she had bigger things on her mind, and the last thing she needed was another mystery to solve related to her past.

At least I know that I'm not going crazy,
she thought.
Someone really was following me
.

But even after Beth had lost the girl who called her Bess, she still felt like she was being followed. She caught the sound of footsteps scraping on pavement, but when she spun around to confront whoever might be there, she saw no one.

Beth picked up her pace, hoping both to get to the school sooner and to put some distance between her and whoever might be after her.

The feeling of being watched gripped her like a pair of hands. Again she spun around. This time she caught a glimpse of something or someone disappearing behind a nearby row of bushes.

“Who's there?” she called out, surprising herself with her boldness. “Why are you following me?”

But she only received silence in response.

On Beth walked, feeling more uneasy with every step.

What am I doing?
she chastised herself.
I don't know where I'm going. I don't know what I'm going to do when I get there . . . if I get there. And someone is still following me. I just know it.

BRRIIIIIIIIINGG!!

Beth's phone rang suddenly, startling her. She let out a short shriek, then fished around in her backpack and pulled out her phone. The caller ID read
MOM
.

Beth answered the call. She was grateful that it was quiet on this street so that her mom wouldn't suspect she wasn't at home.

“Hi, Mom. How's it going there?” she said as cheerily as she could.

“Great. Work is done and I'm about to start my meeting,” said Mom. “How are things at home?”

“Fine. I had my breakfast, and I'm just starting to continue reading about the history of the Cherokee Nation.”

At that moment a big truck rumbled down the street right past Beth.

“What's that noise?” Mom asked.

“Oh, a truck just went by,” Beth replied. “I have the window open.”

“Well, don't leave the window open all day,” her mom warned. “I heard that it might rain later.”

“Okay, Mom,” said Beth, trying to rush off the phone. “Don't worry about me. Go have a nice meeting!”

“Okay, I'll check in with you later. Don't forget to eat lunch.”