First Impression (A Shadow Maven Paranormal) (11 page)

He’s perfect and beautiful. And he doesn’t need to lower himself to my level. He could go downstairs right now and hang out with the best of them. If he’d open himself up to them, he’d be popular. Matt and Hailey Benson’s cousin? How could he not fit right in with the crowd?

But instead he’s on the roof, feeding an owl. Would anyone ever accept that bit of weirdness? Would the teeny boppers I stood in line behind find that cool? Probably not. And his eyes.
Pools of dancing black oil?
They were a bit unusual, yeah, but worth freaking out about? Not really. Then there’s the whole monk thing…and how he knows so much about things like ghosts and demons. I shiver at the thought. I blurt, “I’ll go with you.”

His eyes finally meet mine. In them is a tiny spark of hope. “What?”

I clear my throat. “I’ll go with you tomorrow to the Old Schoolhouse.”

The flash in them becomes serious, and his face sets in a determined expression. “Good. What made you change your mind?”

I shake my head and turn to look at Steve, who is perched closer to me on the fence now, his amber eyes watching my every move. “We need to do something. Tasha is in a coma. Donnie is dead. And Jacob…”

Ben steps closer, his voice quiet but with a hard edge. “What about Jacob?”

My gaze lifts to his. Those faux brown eyes are determined and curious. I like it. The serious Ben has returned. I stand up straight. “I was just in the cafeteria. He looked distraught, unshaven, disheveled—nothing like he usually does. And he had a fit downstairs, slammed his hand on the table and shouted something about how what happened to Donnie is happening to him, too, and he just can’t take it anymore.”

Ben’s intense eyes become distant as he looks over my shoulder, and his jaw works in and out on the side of his face. “Maybe we shouldn’t wait until tomorrow. Maybe we should go break into the Old Schoolhouse tonight.”

My jaw drops, and my breath catches.

His gaze returns to me and flickers between my eyes and my lips. He’s so close that, for a moment, my heart skips a beat. Will he kiss me? But the moment passes in an instant as he turns away and takes a step back.

My breath returns. “We can’t do that. We can’t break in. They’ve started night watch at the building now. I remember Mr. Scott saying something about it at the Police Station.”

Ben winces, and his eyes dart back and forth like he’s trying to come up with another plan. Finally, his shoulders droop a bit. “It can’t be helped I suppose. We’ll have to try the custodian after school tomorrow.”

I nod and finger the brownie in my pocket. My stomach growls.

“Have you eaten?” he asks me with an accusing tone.

I quirk an eyebrow and pull the milk and brownie from my pockets. “The lunch of champions.”

He laughs and shakes his head when I snag my first bite.

With my mouth full, I ask, “What about you? Have you eaten?”

“A bologna sandwich and a coffee. According to my uncle it’s the lunch of detectives.”

I wash down the brownie with my milk and smile. “That’s good because we’ll need you to be one if we’re going to settle this whole thing.”

I miss Tasha the most
in 6
th
period Gym class. It’s here that I have to deal with the brunt of my shunning, without the buffer that is my best friend. Instead, I deal with pointing, stares, and being chosen last for any team sport. Which irks me the most, since I can play circles around the majority of the girls in the class due to my innate size and build. And volleyball? I totally rock this game.

“You can take the Amazonian woman,” Kaitlyn says, snickering and rolling one of her blonde curls with her finger.

Stacy shrugs and waves me over. I try to keep my face as neutral as possible. It was down to me and the smallest, weakest freshman, and I still got last pick.

We set up on both sides of the net. Gym is one of those classes where students from every level work together, from seventh graders to seniors. Whether puberty has gotten hold of them or not. I take my spot against the net as opposite because I’ve got a good jump on me and can spike it anytime someone sets me up. And boy, am I ready to spike it with some power today. If I was male, I’d be oozing testosterone… Just as Kaitlyn’s serve passes over the net, the whistle blows. Stacy catches the ball to stop the play, and we all look over at Mrs. Norris who blew the whistle. The vice principal stands next to her, and he looks sterner than ever. “Stacy Brine, Mr. Collins would like to see you for a moment. The rest of you, run four laps around the gym to stay warm.”

I groan along with the rest of the girls, but we do as we’re told. The jog around the perimeter of the gym is slowed because we are all craning our necks to see what’s going on with Stacy. When she sobs and collapses into the principal’s arms, I slam into the body in front of me. Kaitlyn has stopped. She turns toward me and snaps, “Watch it, dyke.” And then she dashes over to Stacy.

No one in the group is running anymore. We all stop and stare like sheep watching one of their own being slaughtered. When Kaitlyn gets over there, she’s talking to the principal, and Stacy crashes into her friend’s arms.

“What?” Kaitlyn yells, and then she’s crying, too.

As a collective, every student in the gym has become silent and huddled together. A fight or flight instinct has taken over us all, and we know instinctively that there is safety in numbers. Kaitlyn leaves with both Stacy and the vice principal. Mrs. Norris glares at our group. “Laps, girls.”

We nod and scramble to finish our drill. Murmurings begin at the group that had been nearest the action and slowly the gossip travels from ear to mouth throughout the gym. Shocked expressions interrupt game play at the other volleyball nets, and Mrs. Norris is forced to make an announcement. She blows her whistle and the murmuring stops. “Ladies! Have a seat right here in front of me.”

I’d lost count on how many laps we’d done, but my legs aren’t tired in the least. With everyone else, I sit cross-legged on the hardwood gym floor. Once everyone is seated and quiet again, Mrs. Norris speaks.

“I know how the telephone game and the gossip chain works around here. I was going to wait until the end of class to avoid the interruption of game play, but it seems you all aren’t letting that happen. I’m sorry to relay to you all some horrible news.”

The hush in the gym allows for the wails of other students down the hall to reach our ears. When we hear this uproar, it becomes that much harder to be patient for the announcement. Mrs. Norris clears her sniffles, tears welling in her eyes. “Senior class president, Jacob Sloane has been in a terrible accident.”

Cries of disbelief and general tears erupt in spurts around the crowd of girls in the gym.

Mrs. Sloan makes a motion with her hands for all of us to sit still. She continues, “This appalling tragedy follows too closely to the incident on Saturday with Donnie Price. To have two of our Jackson Hall seniors die in completely unrelated ways is a horrible blow. If anyone needs to see the guidance counselor, Mr. Collins has informed me that we’ll be doing group sessions to help the student body deal with their grief.”

What? I feel paralyzed. My joints are frozen, and my muscles refuse to move. How could this be possible? I sit in a stupor, my mind numb, while voices and crying around me becomes indistinct. Someone pats my shoulder, and I notice that everyone has stood and started heading for the locker room.

“Miss Kelly. If you need to see the grief counselor, I can write you a hall pass right now,” says Mrs. Norris.

I shake my head and scramble to my feet. “No, ma’am. That won’t be necessary.”

She nods, her eyes bloodshot and sad. “Okay, but please talk to someone about what you’re feeling. Don’t hold it all in. That’s the worst thing you can do.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mrs. Norris has a ball of tissues in her hand, and she’s wiping her nose. Some of the girls from the class have congregated just outside the locker room door, talking. I recognize one of them as Tracey James. When she sees me, she brightens. “Tell them, Chira. You would know better than me.”

I blink and raise my eyebrows. “What? What do you mean?”

She pulls me over to the group, and I scan the judgmental, doubtful, but mourning faces of the other three girls. Tracey keeps hold of my elbow as though she’s afraid I might run away as she says, “My group went upstairs, but yours went down. You were with them. Tasha, Donnie, Jacob and Stacy, right? You were with them all when you saw that ghost. And now three of you have been hurt, right? It’s got to be a curse.”

Panic claws in my chest, and I shake my head. I don’t want to talk about this right now. I try to pull from Tracey’s grasp, but she tightens her grip. “Tell them Chira. You were there. What did you see?”

I’m stronger than she is, and if I have to drag her with me, I’m still going to leave. I head for the locker room, pulling her with me for a moment before she finally lets me go. The door doesn’t swing shut before I hear her laugh behind me. “I wonder who’s next. You or Stacy?”

Skipping the last fifteen minutes
of class doesn’t seem like a problem for me. The moment I’m back in my standard uniform, I shoulder my bag and rush out the door. I march down the hallway, and when I pass a classroom, a shout stops me in my tracks.

“Wait up!”

The vibration that voice sends through my body makes it clear who it is, and I don’t bother to turn around. Ben stands beside me with his backpack slung over his shoulder. I eye him. “Were you planning on skipping the last bit of class, too?”

“Most everyone is. After that bit of news, no one can concentrate on their work anymore,” he says.

I nod and start walking again. “That’s for sure.”

“Where are you going? I told you never to go anywhere alone right now. It’s not safe.”

“How are you going to save me from this…curse that everyone’s talking about?”

He frowns. “What curse?”

“The Old Schoolhouse is not only haunted, but apparently there’s a curse now. If you’ve seen the ghost, you have an accident. Or something like that.”

Ben’s jaw tightens. “Urban legend. I don’t buy into silly superstitions.”

We reach the administrator’s hall and nearly run into Mr. Scott. His smile wanes the moment he sees us. “What are you two doing? I hope you have a hall pass?”

I swallow and shake my head, suddenly ashamed. I’ve never skipped class before, but somehow I just can’t take being here any longer.  “I don’t feel well, Mr. Scott. Since the day is almost out, and my teacher isn’t working on anything further, I asked if I could be excused. Ben offered to walk me home.”

Mr. Scott narrows his worried eyes at both of us, and then his gaze lands on me. Suddenly I’m sure that his kind eyes can see right through my lie. Instead, he says, “There were five of you in that video Donnie posted on twitter, weren’t there? And now three of you have been hurt. It’s a terrible thing that happened today with Jacob. His brakes went out, and he ran a red light. I don’t buy into this whole curse theory, but it’s better that you stay safe, okay?”

I nod.

The light shines on Mr. Scott’s bald head as he turns to look up at Ben, and there’s something wary in his gaze. “Glad you’re keeping an eye out for Chira. Keep up the good work.”

I blink and am surprised as Mr. Scott continues down the hallway away from us. With a shrug I take advantage of the opportunity and walk a little faster for the door. Ben is right beside me, but I beat him to the door and push it open myself. The overcast sky mutes the sunlight so that it feels later in the day than just before two o’clock. I decide to go home. Maybe I’ll just hole up early and snack on something in the house before I go to bed. I’m not feeling like doing the usual library and diner thing. I’m just too tired. I hop down the steps, and Ben follows me like a shadow. Not sure how I feel about that. I don’t need a babysitter, but it seems like this chivalry thing is in Ben’s nature. At least he keeps his distance from me.

Halloween comes on a sunny
Tuesday morning. Even though Ben is following me still, he barely talks to me. It’s as though he’s noticed that I want my space, and he’s determined to give it to me. For that I’m thankful. I can almost forget he’s sitting behind me—he’s so withdrawn.

By lunch time, I’ve given up on avoiding the only person who will really talk to me in the whole school without looking at me like I’m a freak and without asking me about this forsaken curse. I make no pretense when I follow him up to the roof. He even holds the door for me.

“Do you have anything to eat?” he asks.

I shrug and pull out a pouch drink and chocolate flavored toaster pastry packet.

He shakes his head and frowns. “Not much different than your lunch of champions yesterday.”

I plop down on the roof tiles and rest my back against the wall. “Guess not. Did you bring your detective’s lunch?”

He plops down beside me and opens his brown bag. Lifting a sandwich, he shows me. “Yep.”

Steve’s wings whistle as he lights upon the top of the green chain link fence right in front of us. He eyes us both intently at first but soon dozes off with his lids half shut.

We eat together in a comfortable silence. I finish one of the toaster pastries and stuff the other in its silver wrapper into the pocket of my bag. The bright sun feels good on my legs while my body remains shaded. I didn’t sleep well the night before, so I begin to feel drowsy. Unintentionally, my body leans toward Ben until my shoulder touches his. He stiffens, and I jerk away. “Sorry.”

He gulps down a bit of coffee from his thermos and sets it down. “No, it’s okay.”

With his permission, I lean against him again. So tired. My eyes close again, but a loud bang makes me jump, and my heart race. I stiffen and sit back up. Steve hops from the fence and takes flight.

Matt strolls around the corner. “I knew I’d find you both here.”

“I…uh…” I stutter, not even knowing what I had planned to say.

He sits across from us in the sunlight with his legs folded. In his lap is a brown sack lunch and green thermos identical to Ben’s. Matt pulls out a bologna sandwich and starts in.

“Why are you neglecting your usual group of friends?” Ben asks.

Matt shrugs and stares at his sandwich a moment before speaking. “Donnie and Jacob were my only real friends.”

My chest aches for him and tears burn the back of my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

He looks up at me and forces a smile. “Thank you. Sure lots of people are saying that, but somehow it feels like you really mean it. Maybe it’s because you and Tasha…”

I nod and swallow back the sob that was rising in my throat.

Matt resumes tearing bites from his sandwich. He speaks with his mouth full, “So when I looked around the cafeteria for Chira and didn’t find her…or you, I knew where you would be. You’re nothing if not predictable.”

Ben glowers. “Thanks.”

Matt washes down his sandwich with a swig from his thermos.

I lean forward as he puts it down and peer in. The dark liquid within has a little bit of steam to it. “Coffee?”

Matt’s eyes meet mine and his eyes hold some mixture of interest and wonder. “Um…yeah.”

I lean back and laugh. “Did your dad pack both your lunches?”

Ben and Matt exchange a look, and a wordless conversation passes between them. They both nod and continue to eat.

I shake my head. “Wow.”

“He just started yesterday. I think he’s gotten a bit protective since Donnie…” Matt says.

They continue to eat in quiet while I watch Steve rise and fall again with the wind. The bright blue of the sky behind him makes him look nearly as white as the clouds he intermingles with.

“Will you go to the memorial on Friday, Chira?” Matt asks.

I wince. Both the Prices and the Sloanes had decided to hold a joint memorial session for their sons, and most of the students will be attending right after school lets out.

“I’ve only ever been to one funeral,” I say, staring at the small stones in the asphalt on the roof. “And it was my dad’s.”

Both boys are quiet for a moment. Matt scoots over to me so that he’s sitting on the other side of me from Ben. He puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me against him. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there for you. You can cry on my shoulder if you want.”

Ben grinds his teeth audibly and jumps to his feet. He marches about ten feet away from us and whistles. Steve falters in the air and glides back down for the roof, lighting upon the chain link. It rattles in response.

I shrug off Matt’s arm and stand, too, brushing the gravel from my brown skirt. “I’m a pretty resilient girl. I haven’t had to rely on a man in my life since that funeral, in case you haven’t heard.”

Matt joins us both on our feet. “Not that again, Chira. I know you’re not gay.”

My gaze darts toward Ben, but he blinks at me innocently. I glower at Matt. “What do you mean?”

“Jacob and Donnie started that rumor back when you and Tasha were freshmen. Don’t you remember? Donnie asked you out, and you crushed him by saying something about how you’d rather go out with Tasha than him. He got pissed and called you a dyke. Everyone picked up on it and kept it going. But you’re not gay, are you? Never have been, I bet.”

Blood rushes to my cheeks. Donnie started this…and Jacob? I couldn’t remember that, and I only vaguely remember when Donnie asked me out. And now they are both gone. Dead. Their funeral is on Friday.

“So you all knew…all this time?” I croaked.

Matt’s voice softens and he steps closer. “Hey, I’m sorry that you’ve been picked on because of it. Those two were my best friends, and were both good guys, but they made mistakes, too.”

Tears well in my eyes, and I swipe them away. I focus on my breathing so I won’t hyperventilate. I need to get out of here. I step toward the door, but Matt darts in front of me.

“Hey, no hard feelings, right?” His eyes are sincere, but I just don’t care right now.

I shake my head, nod, and say, “Fine, whatever.” And push his arm so I can get past.

The first bell rings the moment I open the door to the stairwell. Five minutes. That’s how much time I have to get to the ladies room, get hold of myself, and get to class. I can do that.

Classes go on as usual
, and at the end of the day, I sit on the bench in the locker room, slowly packing my things. This allows everyone to get out before I do. In movie theaters, it seems as if everyone jumps up to leave before the credits even really get started, because they want to be the first to the parking lot. But patience had taught me to wait until the idiots leave the theatre and avoid the crowd as much as possible.

Once the sufficient amount of time has passed, I shoulder my bag and push open the locker room door. Outside the gym, Ben waits for me across the hall, with Matt standing next to him. I groan and tap Ben on the chest with the back of my hand. “What’s he doing here?”

Ben watches my hand and smiles at me. “He wanted to come with us to the Old Schoolhouse.”

I wince and my stomach drops. I’d forgotten completely about that. “Uh…I’ve got a lot of homework to do. Why don’t you two go on without me?”

Matt steps up, his green eyes pleading. “You’re not mad at me are you?”

I turn away and start down the hall. “No.”

He skips to catch up to me. “You sound mad.”

I roll my eyes. “So.”

“So if you don’t want to go to the Old Schoolhouse because of me—”

I stop, and my stomach flutters. “It has nothing to do with you. Like I said, I have a lot of homework.”

Ben steps up from behind Matt. “If you’re going somewhere else, I need to come with you. I guess investigating this further will have to wait until next Tuesday.”

My stomach sinks and guilt bristles along my shoulders. But I grit my teeth and take a defensive posture. “Why do we have to do this at all? Can’t Matt just tell his dad about all this and have him investigate it without us?”

“We tried already.” Matt laughs and his voice deepens. “The police department doesn’t take ghost sightings seriously, and curses are not considered a modus operandi worth investigation.”

Ben’s eyes meet mine, and his expression softens. “We need to do this. But if you don’t feel up to it today, we could try—”

“Fine! I’ll go.” I fold my arms across my chest. I guess this is entirely up to me. I need to see for myself if what we saw before was real or just my imagination. Is it possible that there really is a curse, or maybe this whole thing is a case of possession, like Ben explained? And if it is possession, would that require a priest or something to do an exorcism?

Matt smiles and offers up a hand for his cousin to give him a high five. When Ben only glowers at him, Matt offers me the hand. When I leave him hanging with a glare, he lowers it and offers me his fist. “Bump it. At least you can do that.”

Just so he’ll leave me alone, I bump his fist.

He beams and stands a little taller. Ben pushes past and leads us to the back doors of the building. He holds the door open for me, and Matt follows, patting him on the shoulder as he passes. I stifle a laugh.