I was bothered by that encounter for the rest of the day. Even after dinner, it was still nagging at me. I couldn't seem to get my mind off of what had gone on with that boy. I couldn't get him off my mind, and not in a good way.

I sat on the couch in the living room of my home, a bowl of half-melted cookies and creme ice cream in my hands. My parents were in the kitchen, talking something over. The TV was on, but I was barely paying attention to whatever show was playing.

The sound of footsteps interrupted my daydreaming that I barely realized I was doing. I turned my head, watching my dad sit down next to me on the couch, putting his arm on the back of the couch behind me. He looked over at me, giving me a smile. "You okay? You've been really quiet all day."

I shrugged, stirring my melting ice cream around with the spoon. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a long day," I responded. "I'm just tired."

It wasn't really a lie, but wasn't the whole truth either. The pencil thing from earlier with that weird boy wouldn't stop bothering me. Maybe I was overthinking it.

"Well, maybe you should put your ice cream back in the freezer and get some sleep. The last thing we need is you being even crankier in the mornings," Dad said, ruffling my hair as he said it, a teasing smile on his face. I rolled my eyes, unable to help the smile that spread onto my face.

"Yeah yeah, shush. I will, it isn't too early yet." Dad gave me a nod as I stood up, going into the kitchen. I put my spoon in the sink, then stuck the bowl of ice cream in the freezer, making a mental note to eat it tomorrow. 

I walked back into the living room, giving Dad a hug, then headed upstairs. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, I almost ran into Mom, a look of shock crossing my face as I bumped into her. She looked shocked for a few seconds, before her face softened and she pulled me into a hug.

"Going to bed?"

"Yeah."

"Well goodnight then. Sleep well." Mom gave me a kiss on the head, then headed downstairs. I smiled to myself as I headed to my room, my mind temporarily at ease.

********

"Patrick Harper, please come to the main office. Again, Patrick Harper, please come to the main office."

The voice through the school intercom rang throughout the building, right in towards the end of my first class after lunch. I froze in my seat upon hearing my name called, tensing up when I saw everyone's eyes shoot towards me. I glanced at the teacher, who nodded her head, saying I should go.

I didn't bother grabbing my stuff, hoping it would just be a quick visit. Why was I being called? I hadn't done anything wrong. I hadn't gotten into any fights or behaved badly, unless I did something without realizing. The main office wasn't far from my math class, which made me walk even slower, dreading what would happen when I walked in.

I reached the office, slowly turning the handle and walking into the area. It was horribly quiet, something I hated when walking into an office like this. Especially when the school secretary's eyes immediately landed on me, like she had been impatiently waiting.

"Hi, Patrick," she said kindly. I swallowed hard, glancing at the nameplate on the desk. Ms. Johnson. 

"H-Hi, Ms. Johnson. W-What was I called for?" I asked slowly, standing in front of the desk and forcing myself to meet her eyes. My hands were trembling slightly out of nervousness, so I shoved them in the pockets of my jeans.

Ms. Johnson looked over at her computer, her expression changing from a happy one to a confused one, her brow furrowing. "Do you know a man that fits this description? Quite tall, dark hair, sort of dark eyes, dresses kind of formally?"

I rose an eyebrow, searching through the people I knew, but no one really fit that description. At the same time, it was a pretty general description. My mind went to the boy that gave me the pencil yesterday, but I didn't technically know him.

"N-No, I don't."

"Are you sure?"

"Y-Yeah? At least, I'm pretty sure," I said slowly. Ms. Johnson sighed, glancing back at her computer. I frowned, feeling worry pool in the bottom of my stomach. Something was going on, and I didn't like it.

"Around lunch time, a man fitting that description came into the school and walked up to the front desk, asking for you. He wouldn't give us his name though or a phone number, so we had to make him leave. I'm not sure if he needed to pick you up for something or just needed to talk to you for some reason, but he seemed around your age, so I doubt it was anyone listed in your contacts," she explained. 

It took me a few seconds to process that. Someone came into the school, looking for me? For no reason? Panic was rising in my chest as I stared at the secretary, suddenly terrified. I didn't say a thing, making Ms. Johnson frown.

"How about you come around and look at this security footage? See if you recognize him?" she suggested. I nodded carefully, slowly making my way around the desk to stand behind Ms. Johnson while she pulled up the footage of the cameras by the front desk.

Once it was pulled up, she hit play, and I watched the computer closely as the front door opened, and the man walked in. It was hard for me to get a look at him, until he walked up to the front desk. Once he was up there, his face in clear view of the camera, I felt sick.

I took a step back, and Ms. Johnson paused the footage, turning to face me with a concerned expression. "Patrick? Do you know him?"

"H-He . . . I saw him yesterday. I-I was outside eating lunch a-and he approached me with this pencil s-saying I had dropped it and i-it was mine but a-after he left I-I checked my backpack a-and I didn't drop my pencil because i-it was still in there, s-so he just gave me some random pencil." I rushed the words out, unable to stop myself from trembling out of fear. What did this boy want with me?

Ms. Johnson's frown deepened, glancing at the footage again before turning back to me. "We can confirm he isn't a student here. And you're absolutely sure you don't know him? At all? Except that encounter?"

I nodded shakily, watching as she stood up and grabbed a chair, gesturing for me to sit down. I sat down, pulling the sleeves of my sweater over my hands as I looked up at Ms. Johnson with a panicked expression. She frowned at me, tucking a strand of her black hair behind her ear.

"Let me get you some water, then I'm going to go talk to the principal about what to do about this, okay? Unless you want me to get the nurse? You're looking a little pale." I frantically shook my head. The last thing I wanted was to talk to the nurse just because I was freaking out.

"W-Water is fine," I responded shakily. Ms. Johnson nodded, walking away from the desk and returning a few seconds later with a plastic cup full of water.

She handed it to me, giving me a concerned look once again. I took the water, taking a small sip, then set it on the desk, afraid of dropping it from how bad my hands were shaking.

"I'll be right back, okay?" she said softly, before walking away. I stayed put in the chair, rubbing my hands on my jeans and messing with my hair, doing fidgety stuff to try to keep myself calm. 

The bell rang not long after Ms. Johnson left, and it made me remember my abandoned things back in my math classroom. I wasn't too worried about it, turning my attention back to the computer monitor, staring at the face of the boy on the screen. Why was he after me? The reasons that flooded my brain made me scared out of my mind.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the office door opening. I snapped my head towards it, seeing a classmate of mine walk in with my backpack and jacket in his hands. I mentally sighed in relief as he walked over, handing me my things over the desk.

"Here's your things, Patrick," he said simply, not saying anything else as he turned his back to me and walked out. I mumbled a quiet thank you as I hugged my backpack to my chest in a small way of comforting myself.

Maybe this was nothing. Maybe this was a huge misunderstanding. Maybe this boy was someone my parents knew that I hadn't been told about. Or maybe I did know him, and I just couldn't think straight.

I looked over at his face again on the computer, swallowing hard as I stared at it. He did look about my age, but that didn't make me feel any better.

What did this guy want with me?