Manifest by Artist Arthur Page A

curiosity, I don’t have much of a choice. Why can’t she just go away? She makes me too uncomfortable. Actually, both of them being so close and talking to me as if we’ve known each other forever is uncomfortable.
    “Sure,” I say in the hopes that he’ll go on to class and take Sasha with him.
    “Cool. See ya, Sasha,” he says as he turns and walks away.
    “Bye, Franklin.”
    I turn to go into my class but know that isn’t going to work. Sasha’s hand on my shoulder stops me.
    “I need you to come with me,” she says.
    “What? No. It’s time for class.”
    “This is more important than class.”
    “You’re crazy. I’m not cutting with you.”
    “Krystal, you don’t understand. This is important.”
    I’m shaking my head, still refusing to get caught up in what she’s saying. By now the hallway is practically empty because the second bell is about to ring. That’s the one that tells you you’re late and you’d better get your butt in gear before you’re caught out of class.
    “Get off me, I’m going,” I say and pull away from her.
    But something keeps me from moving; something keeps me from turning away. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s there.
    “Fine,” Sasha says, then takes a couple steps back from me. I see her look around real quick and I do the same. When I return my attention to her, she’s gone.
     
    She didn’t disappear.
    I know she didn’t because that’s impossible.
    Human beings that are about five feet three inches tall and maybe a hundred or so pounds do not simply disappear into thin air.
    Maybe she ran away. Really fast. Faster than the speed of light? That isn’t possible either. Sasha is not Supergirl.
    Today’s biology lesson picks up where we left off on Friday with diffusion, osmosis and cell membranes. I have no idea what Mr. Lyle is saying, since my mind is totally not on work.
    One minute Sasha was there, asking me to come with her, and the next she was gone. Vanished.
    No. Not possible.
    Okay, just calm down and be rational. Try to keep this in perspective. She was there and then she was gone. She was going to be late for class, both of us were. So it’s logical that she did simply run away. What’s not logical is the fact that I saw no trace of her in the long hallway that stretched toward the next turn that would take her to other classes. Now, I don’t know what her first-period class is, let alone where it is in the building. But unless it is the very next classto mine, there’s no way she could have run down that hall so fast that I didn’t even see her back as she retreated.
    My stomach churns, not like hunger churning and not like the nervous jittering I feel when Ricky is around. But like a sort of dread, like I know something is about to happen. Something important.
    Are you going to sit here all morning trying to figure out what happened or are you going to finally get a backbone and go see for yourself?
    I nearly jump out of my chair at the sound of his voice. My textbook and pen fall to the floor, causing everyone to turn and look at me.
    Isabella Jackson is absent today so the chair beside me was empty when I’d come into class. Now, it isn’t.
    Ricky is sitting there, his elbow propped on the desk, his head resting on his hand as he stares at me. He has bushy eyebrows and right now they are lifted in conjunction with the question he’d just asked.
    I open my mouth, about to answer him, when it dawns on me that nobody else sees him sitting there or hears him speaking to me. Clamping my mouth shut, I lean over and scoop up my book and pen.
    Mr. Lyle had stopped talking at the noise I’d caused. Now he simply turns, lifts his arm and begins writing something on the blackboard again.
    She’s downstairs waiting for you. Her and that boy from the tracks.
    I take my pen in hand and position myself to begin taking notes. We’d have a quiz at the end of the week and I’d no doubt fail since I’m not paying attention.
    I think they have