Don't Cross Your Heart, Katie Krieg

By Virginia M Scott

Sophomore Katie Krieg finds a note in her backpack written with letters cut out of a magazine. The note accuses her of having a "thing" with the young, handsome lit teacher, Mr. Grayson. Who would do this? And why? Until this, her life was filled with choir practice, homework, and friends. More notes appear and tension mounts. She know

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishing-Partners
• Release date: May 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781944887230

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KATIE_KREIG_FRONT_COVER.jpg

Don’t Cross Your Heart,

Katie Krieg

A Young-Adult Novel

Virginia M. Scott

Publishing Partners

Books by Virginia M. Scott

Belonging

Palace of the Princess

Balancing Act

Finding Abby

The Carnelian Door

Don’t Cross Your Heart, Katie Krieg

Publishing Partners

Port Townsend, WA 98368

Copyright 2017 © H William Brelje

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.

LCCN: 2017938676

ISBN: 978-1-944887-21-6

eISBN: 978-1-944887-23-0

Cover Design: Marcia Breece

Book Design: Marcia Breece

Dedication

For Amy

Day 1 - Tuesday

W hat’s this? my friend Rachel asked as she riffled through my notebook after school. Her question sort of started it all.

Did you find the assignment sheet? I was ninety-nine percent sure that Mr. Breen’s assignment on constitutional amendments was due on Monday, but Rachel thought he’d meant tomorrow. The sheet would settle it. Across my room, I pulled an old sweatshirt over my head.

Katie, would you come over here?

Sure. What’s the rush?

This. she said as she held out a typewriter-sized sheet of paper by one corner. It might have been smelly laundry from her look.

Ick. Due tomorrow? I walked closer. She just kept staring at the paper with this really spacey look. Rachel?

Here. You’d better look at this. I didn’t mean to read it, but the words jumped right out at me.

Words?

That’s okay, I assured her.

Then I looked at the words and did a double take.

What is this? It looks like somebody hacked letters out of a magazine and pasted them on, I said in amazement. They were crooked, different-sized alphabet letters, and the page was sort of puckered from the glue holding them on.

Yeah, that’s why I was staring. It’s . . . I don’t know . . . creepy.

You can say that again.

It got a whole lot creepier when I read the message:

I KNOW YOU’RE HAVING A THING WITH GRAYSON

What! I exploded. Then I felt a dizzying rush as the blood drained from my head. Was I going to pass out?

Katie? Katie, are you all right?

All right? No, I’m not all right. Rachel, this is terrible. Grayson? Grayson as in Mr. Timothy Grayson?

Do you know any other Graysons?

No.

Then it must be him.

I looked at her in astonishment. But he’s our teacher. This is so embarrassing. I mean, a ‘thing’ with him. Does that mean what I think it does?

Yeah, I’d say so.

Mr. Grayson’s blond, twenty-something image flitted through my mind, and I could feel my face growing hot. A thing?

I just can’t believe this, I said. I crushed the paper and tossed it into the wastebasket. It’s total garbage.

I know. Hey, maybe you got the note by mistake.

Yeah, that must be it. But the moment of feeling better burst like a bubble.

What if I didn’t?

One way or another, it’s just a stupid prank.

Not a very funny one. Then a horrible thought seized me. What’ll I do if people hear about this?

I don’t know why they should, not if we don’t tell anybody.

Promise you won’t.

All right, but I wonder if Grayson ought to know that trash like this is being circulated.

Are you kidding? Tell him? Rachel, I’d die. Grayson and me? I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

So, what are you going to do? Rachel asked.

If I knew who or why, I’d do something, but I don’t, so I guess I’ll have to play it by ear. People get tired of pranks if there’s no reaction, don’t they?

That’s what they say.

Who, Rachel? Why?

I wish I knew. Listen, maybe we’ll notice someone who’s acting weird or, better yet, catch the note sender in the act.

Yeah. Just keep your eyes and ears open for me.

Will do, she said with a little salute. Then she looked at her watch. Say, I’m going to have to get home. I hate to leave you like this, though. Will you be all right? Will Mrs. Pemberton be here soon?

Maggie Pemberton was the neighbor staying with me part-time while my parents were on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary trip. Baby-sitting me was more like it, but I’d gone along with it so as not to spoil their special vacation.

She’ll be here in an hour or so. I’ll be fine, Rachel. Really.

Are you going to tell her about this note thing?

I doubt it, I replied. Mrs. Pemberton was like an aunt to Mom, and I loved her like family, but things people told her had a way of slipping out.

Rachel nodded as we walked down the stairs. I still think Paris would be more romantic than Italy.

Huh? Oh, you mean the trip. Me, too. It’s just that Mom majored in art history in college, and since Italian Renaissance paintings were her area of focus, she’s just always wanted to go to Italy. Dad’s been a Roman architecture nut for almost as long.

Well, that does sound cool. Listen, I’ll see you at school in the morning. Call me if you need to talk. It’ll all work out, Katie.

I will. Thanks for being here.

Back in my room, wanting to keep busy, I checked the assignment sheet that had started this whole thing. Monday: Breen’s assignment was due on Monday. I’d have to let Rachel know.

I did three geometry problems, but when my eyes kept straying to the wastebasket, I knew it was going to be impossible to concentrate. I finally gave up, reached into the wicker basket, smoothed out the balled-up piece of paper, and read those awful words again.

They had almost as much electricity in them as they had the first time, but now I knew I wasn’t going to pass out. No, I wanted to smash something. The nerve of this person! Me and Grayson? Why me? Why him?

Think, Katie, I told myself, but I just drew a blank. Had anybody acted strange that day? I remembered Mark Sherman hiccupping nonstop most of third period. That had been different but totally unrelated to the note. And a fire drill that afternoon had freaked out Gaby Slocum. Then there was the overall somberness during choir practice, but given the circumstances, even that had been pretty normal.

When had the person had the opportunity to sneak the message into my notebook, anyway? When it came right down to it, I realized it could have been done in a split second during almost any of my classes or the fire drill, at choir practice, or even when my papers had gone flying all over the hallway after school.

That had happened when Rachel and I were in front of my locker as I rummaged through a notebook for a biology diagram she wanted to see. Her eyes had zeroed in on a piece of paper with little hearts and my writing all over it.

Katie . . . Dumont? she quizzed.

Give me that! Come on, Rachel, I don’t want anyone to see it.

Yeah, especially not Paul Dumont, she teased. Hey, speak of the devil.

Paul? Oh no! Is he coming this way? My heart did a strange little dance whenever he was in the vicinity, and it was really cha-chaing at the moment. When she nodded, I grabbed the page out of her hand, and that’s when my books and stuff had gone flying all over.

Just act nonchalant, she said as I hid the telltale heart-decorated paper and we stooped to gather my things.

One-two-cha-cha-cha. Was he coming? Here, let me help. My heartbeat slowed.

Hi, Jason, I greeted as he bent down to help. I did a quick survey. Paul had disappeared. I sighed just as Rachel poked me in the ribs.

Um, Rachel Stamm, this is Jason Porter. Jason, Rachel just moved here from Seattle.

Nice town, he commented as he looked at her appreciatively.

Hi. Oregon’s nice, too.

They were still scoping each other out when Mr. Grayson walked up. I blushed now to even think of him, but at the time—just a couple of hours ago, I thought with amazement—seeing him hadn’t meant a thing.

He smiled as he held out my pen and a couple of papers. I think you dropped these, too.

Thanks.

And that had been it, almost. After I had given Rachel the biology diagram, we’d run into Elena.

Would you wait here just a sec, Rachel? Elena? I called. I knew she heard me by the way her body tensed. Elena! But she kept on walking, and I wondered for the hundredth time why it had to be this way between us. I considered running after her, but didn’t. Rachel caught up with me. What’s with her?

I dunno. Bad day, I guess. Say, did I see some electricity between you and Jason?

He’s pretty cool, she said as we left the building. That’s when we’d gone to my house and found the note.

Why me? I wondered again. I mean, I was so ordinary-looking. Everything about me was so . . . so average: brown hair and eyes, average height and weight. Rachel, on the other hand, was beautiful with her flowing red hair, amber eyes, and a figure to die for.

She was someone the guys really noticed. Moi? I was just the girl-next-door type. So why me and not someone drop-dead pretty?

Why and who? Who and why?

Suddenly, I just couldn’t stay cooped up in the house. I didn’t want to think about the note and, mostly, what it would be like to sit in Mr. Grayson’s class the next day, or to walk down the halls at school, wondering