Chapter 12. Haley
Haley
Good morning, Chicago. This is Hidden Tracks on WJPK, and I’m Haley Chapman. Today’s show is all about those moments when you think you’ve got things all figured out and then bam! life throws you a curveball.
Maybe you’re ready to bundle up against the cold, only to have the temperature shoot up like it did this morning, and you’re ditching your sweaters and pulling out your tees.
Or maybe you think you know someone and they do something that makes you see them in a whole new light.
That’s our vibe today. We’re diving into tunes about those “whoa, didn’t see that coming” moments, and how people and situations can flip the script on us when we least expect it.
This playlist is for those of us who’ve been blindsided by a plot twist in our own life story and are now struggling to keep our head above water.
We’re kicking off with a track about just riding those waves when you discover there’s way more to the story than you thought.
This is Alabama Shakes with “Hold On.” Stick around and remember—just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, life loves to shake things up.
Ace and I fell into a rhythm over the next two weeks after a somewhat rocky start, going from classes to work and then to all my clubs.
He tried to stay in the background, usually standing or sitting at the back of my classrooms, grabbing a table in the corner of the coffee shop, and hanging out near the door when I was at my clubs.
Only at the radio station did he seem ill at ease.
I wasn’t sure if it was the chaos and the noise, or the fact that he thought it was a security nightmare with people constantly coming and going, hanging out in the hallways or racing from room to room.
It was also impossible for him to be inconspicuous standing outside the studio while I did my show, because he was constantly in the way.
I liked seeing him outside the door. I liked knowing he was listening.
I tried to play music I thought he might enjoy, and imagined I was talking just to him.
My show vibe was funny, sassy, sarcastic, and sincere.
I tried to be the fun, smart, yet down-to-earth best friend everyone wants to connect with.
Halfway through my show well into our second week together, I opened as usual for requests and comments.
Sometimes I invited listeners to call in or text and share something personal about their lives that vibed with the theme of the day.
The station feed lit up with a message and I clicked to open it only to wish I hadn’t.
We’re coming for you
At first, I thought it was the title of a song or an album I didn’t know, but the only tracks that popped up after a quick search on Spotify were heavy metal or didn’t vibe with the theme.
I uploaded a new track to give me time to respond and clarify the request, but before I could send a reply, another message popped up on my screen.
This time you won’t get away
I felt a shiver down my spine, and I glanced over at the window to see if Ace was still outside.
I’d had some uncomfortable messages over the years, mostly sexual or suggestive, a few threatening enough that Noah, the previous station manager, had contacted the campus police.
Of course, they couldn’t do anything, because they couldn’t trace the messages, and after a few days they would close their file.
Over time, I’d become numb to the invitations and suggestive comments, but this was different.
This time meant there had been another time, which had to be the incident on Michigan Avenue.
Should I tell Ace? The obvious answer was yes.
He was there to protect me, but how could he protect me from something that couldn’t be traced?
They were just words, and maybe I was wrong and the message didn’t have to do with the kidnapping attempt.
Ace also tended to overreact, and he would likely demand that we go home right away.
He might even insist that I stay there or go to a safe house where I couldn’t see Paige and I wouldn’t be going to college at all.
My brain got stuck in that track and wouldn’t let go, muffling the logical part of my mind that said this was panic talking and I just needed to take a breath and talk to Ace.
I didn’t want to fall behind in my classes, or miss work, or let down the clubs I’d joined to meet people and keep busy on campus.
There was recycling that needed to be picked up with my environmental group.
I was going to try some new fencing techniques, and my music group was planning a big event in a few weeks, and I had to rehearse.
I didn’t want whoever was behind the messages to think they could control my life.
I’d tell Ace later, maybe when we were at home, maybe not at all if it didn’t happen again.
The show had to go on and all that jazz.
Resolved to put the messages behind me, I muted the request line, played my final tracks, and took a few deep, calming breaths before I joined Ace in the hallway. He took one look at me and scowled.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I forced a smile for Chad, who was waiting to get into the studio for his show. “Hey, Chad. What’s up?”
“You’re not looking so good,” Chad said. “You’re kind of pale, and your eyes are huge. Did you catch that bug Theo had? He’s been hogging the toilet for two days.”
“I was having issues with the mic, and it threw me off. You know what it’s like.”
Chad nodded. “I heard last week Derek had to change his mic out in the middle of the show. Dante said he was going to order new ones. I guess they haven’t arrived yet.”
“I’ll ask him about it the next time I see him.” I walked quickly down the hallway, forcing Ace to almost jog to keep up.
“What’s going on?” Ace reached ahead to pull open the door. His arm brushed my shoulder, and that brief moment of contact soothed the anxiety that had my heart pounding in my chest.
“I told you. Nothing.” I jogged up the stairs so fast, Ace had to take them two at a time to keep up.
“Is it Chad? Did he say something? Did he hurt you? Is he harassing you?” Of course he wouldn’t let it go, and he was overreacting just as I’d suspected he would.
“No, of course not. Chad’s a good guy.”
I pushed open the door to the main floor of the student center, and Ace put a hand on my shoulder, holding me back so he could assess the area before we were fully in the open.
I took the moment to make my own sweep of the area, the students lined up for fast food, the cafeteria-style tables bustling with activity, and the small shops selling spirit wear and school supplies.
No suspicious people lurking around. My chest rose and fell with my breaths.
I was momentarily overwhelmed with the need to hold his hand for the simple comfort of his touch, but I managed to push the feeling away and follow him through the door.
Was it real? Was I truly in danger? Was there a connection between the incident on Michigan Avenue and the threats my mother had received? What would Ace do if I told him? It was too much to process, so I tried not to process at all.
We walked out into the overcast day, and I shivered as a cool breeze licked my skin. I tried to think about cozy fires and winter sweaters and my upcoming tests, and didn’t realize I’d forgotten to tell Ace about the change of classroom until he grabbed my shoulder, pulling me to a stop.
“Where are you going?”
“There was a flood in the building. The lecture was just moved to an auditorium in the arts center.”
He gave an irritated growl. “You need to give me some warning of any changes in the schedule.”
“I literally just got the message.” I held up my phone. “I’m not trying to hide anything from you or sneak away. But just to be clear, if I did want to run away, you’d never catch me. I’m skilled at subterfuge.”
He glanced over at me, amused. “Is that right?”
“You and Matt saw to that. I had a life to live that didn’t involve staying in my room playing Barbies like a good little girl. I couldn’t have the two of you interfering all the time.” I fell easily into the conversation, grateful for the distraction.
Another growl. A frown. “I don’t think I want to know what trouble you got up to.”
“And I don’t think I want to tell you.”
We made our way to the new classroom, and I went to sit beside Aditi in the middle row of seats, instead of sitting at the back like usual where Ace could hover like a mother hen. He followed me down and took a seat on my other side, putting his body between me and the aisle.
Safe.
I masked my audible sigh of relief with fake irritation. “Why aren’t you standing at the back like good bodyguards are supposed to do?”
“This auditorium has three exits. I can’t reach you fast enough if I’m at the back and someone comes in from the front.”
“It would be hard to snatch me away from a classroom,” I protested. “I don’t think a van could get through the door.” I forced a smile and my voice wavered. Instantly, Ace’s eyes narrowed, and I began to suspect he could see right through me.
“You never know where the threat is going to come from.” He stared at me with an intensity that had me squirming in my seat. “Or when.”
I stiffened and dropped my gaze. His tone said it all. He knew something was up. I couldn’t hide anything from Ace. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to a bodyguard who knew me so well.
“Is there something you aren’t tell—”
“You don’t have a laptop or a notebook,” I said, cutting him off. “People are going to wonder what you’re doing here.”
As if on cue, the girl beside Aditi leaned right over her to talk to me. “Who’s your friend?”
“Ace.” I knew exactly why she was asking and what she wanted, and my fake irritation became real.
“I’m Isabel.” She flashed Ace a smile, showing off a row of perfectly white teeth as she introduced her friends who were sitting around her. “I haven’t seen you in class before.”
“Late registration.” He smiled back, and my hand curled around the armrest, fingers tightening until my knuckles turned white.
“Don’t encourage her,” I muttered under my breath. “You’re with me. Flirting isn’t allowed.”
“I said two words,” he protested.
“You smiled.”
“Should I have frowned?” He tipped his head in query. “I have to keep myself busy since something clearly happened at the station that you’re not sharing with me, which means I can’t do my job.”
Damnit. I had hoped after so long apart he would have forgotten everything he knew about me. Clearly, I was wrong. “There are some things I can handle myself.”
“Things that scare you are my job.” His body stiffened when the door at the bottom of the auditorium opened. He relaxed again when he recognized my professor from the class earlier in the week.
“I wasn’t scared.” I opened my laptop and settled back in my seat.
“I went through a haunted house with you five times in a row,” he whispered as the professor set up at the podium. “I know when you’re afraid.”