The limo passed over the Orchard Street bridge with a rumble of tires on old wood and rivets. Cassie Kendall's eyes were like the water that passed beneath; deeply blue-gray in color and placid in temperament.

She had not moved from that position since the car came off the mesa. She continued to stare with subdued gaze out the window of the back seat of the limo. When the car thumped off the ancient span and back to blacktop, the trees of the greenbelt that ran along the Haven River closed in.

For a moment, the dimness allowed her own countenance to reflect back at her.

The fifteen-year-old considered her face. Oval-shaped, with high cheekbones and dimpled cheeks, framed with wavy bangs of perfectly coiffed sandy-brown hair. Pretty, not beautiful.

She turned away, taking a quick, deep breath, even as the car cleared the trees and morning sunlight returned.

She looked down at herself. A plain white blouse and dark blue skirt adorned her body. Her legs were clad in stockings, her feet in low-heeled shoes. Cute, but not sexy.

She drew in her breath in a deep sigh.

"Is everything all right, Miss Kendall?"

Cassie looked up, as if startled to find that there was actually someone else in the car with her. "No, Harry, I'm fine, thank you."

"Looking forward to the new school semester are you?"

Cassie wanted to tell him the truth. She wanted to tell him how much she was dreading it. But she knew this would be useless. He would just offer some banal platitude and return to ignoring her. Several times in the past Cassie had tried to engage the man in conversation, but he never gave anything more than polite, proper answers in reply.

She could not even get him to call her by her first name.

"Yes, I suppose so," she said in a flat voice.

"We shall be there shortly. Please let me know if you need anything else, Miss Kendall."

Cassie leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. There was nothing that the driver could possibly give her that would make her feel any better.

She didn't fit in at Haven High. Her parents were rich. Old money, handed down from a century and a half worth of Kendall wealth and power. They could afford anything she wanted. They would give her anything she wanted.

They could have also put her in a private school, or hired a private tutor. Yet they thought she should have the opportunity to "socialize" with people her own age.

The other students either thought of her as the little rich-bitch wannabe (even though she never lorded her family's position over anyone, unless they got her angry), or they pretended to be friends with her to get at some of that money.

There were a very few people that tried to get to know her better. Then it only got worse. Then she dared to trust that they would not think her strange when she shared her thoughts with them, when she told them of the journal she liked to keep about the strange feelings and imagery that flitted through her head at odd times during the day, or filled her very vivid and very real dreams at night.

"Some socializing this is," Cassie mumbled to herself.

"Excuse me, Miss Kendall?"

Cassie sighed and shook her head. "Nothing, Harry, never mind."

"If there is anything Miss Kendall requires ..."

"Miss Kendall requires a new life. Can you get that for me, Harry?"

Harry remained silent for a moment. In that time, Cassie held out a small bit of hope that he might actually start talking to her as if she were a real person rather than "the Kendall daughter."

Her hopes were quickly dashed the next second. "I would suggest you take that up with your parents, Miss Kendall," he said politely. "In the meantime, perhaps you would like me to play some music you like on the ..."

"No, Harry," Cassie snapped. "Just pretend I'm not here."

"As you wish, Miss Kendall."

As you wish, Miss Kendall, Cassie repeated mockingly in her head. She sighed again and looked out the window, her eyes shimmering.

She thought she may have found someone different. Someone that didn't mind her oddness. Someone that could see beyond it. That hope, too, had been dashed just the week before. He had ignored her as if he had never known her, only to lavish attention on the buxom blonde nearby.

Cassie wanted to hate him for it, but even that would not have stopped her dreams about him.

Her body gave a tiny shudder. She drew in a deep breath and let it go. She could not let herself think about that now. She was sure she would do something stupid if she did. She knew she would go and do what she had intended to at the end of the last semester, before she knew that her parents were going to take her abroad for the summer.

Cassie shook her head. Yes, her parents had money and power, and by association, she had it as well. Yet she doubted that kind of power could get her what she really wanted.

All the money in the world could not buy her a boyfriend.

Melinda watched the students streaming in from the parking lot towards the high school building, entering the building proper through the east wing entrance. Slowly she relaxed, her heart pounding a little less hard in her chest. Among the sea of students that moved like a slow tide around her, she saw not a single black aura.

"I think it's going to be okay, Melinda," Heather said, the relief evident in her voice.

Jason managed a smile at Melinda and squeezed her hand. Melinda turned her eyes to him and smiled, her cheeks growing faintly pink. Jason had to admit that he loved seeing that. He would never tell her this, but he thought she looked sexy when she blushed.

As if guessing what he was thinking, Melinda giggled.

From behind them, Richie rolled his eyes and pretended to stick his finger down his throat, making silent gagging motions. Heather punched him the arm.

"You don't see it either, do you, Jason?" asked Heather.

Jason looked around and shook his head. The only problem was that he was not at all sure when his "power" worked and when it didn't. He feared that it perhaps hinged on his ability to accept it without understanding how it worked. To a geek like him, that was a very difficult thing to ask of him.

"What about you, Richie," Melinda piped as she turned to him, letting go of Jason's hand.

"Huh? What?"

Melinda rolled her eyes and stamped a foot impatiently. She spoke through clenched teeth. "Do you see it yourself?"

"See what?"

"Richie!" both Melinda and Heather called out in admonishment, advancing on him.

Richie raised his hands defensively. "Okay! Okay! Shit, stop picking on me, willya?!"

"Then stop acting like this," Heather declared.

"Acting like what?"

"Like you don't give a shit."

Richie shrugged. "Maybe I don't."

"You don't mean that," said Jason.

Richie frowned. "Like hell I don't. Look, what difference does it make? The pipsqueak here didn't see anything, and she's really into it ..."

"I'm not 'into it'!" Melinda said indignantly. "I don't want this, but I have it, so I'm going to use it. And stop calling me 'pipsqueak'! I hate that even more than when Heather used to call me 'Mel'!"

"Okay, I won't, Miss Fine-Boobs."

Melinda made as if to rush him. Jason grabbed her arm and stopped him.

Richie smirked. "C'mon, it was just a joke. Fuck, can't we all laugh a little, huh? Look, none of us see anything weird, right? So everything's cool. This school is clean and all that. So can we all stop acting like we're expecting fuckin' zombies to pop outta pods or something?!"

The others exchanged silent looks. Before anyone could think to say anything else, their attention was distracted by the sight of a black limo pulling into the parking lot. They turned towards it just in time to see it come to a stop, and for its sole passenger to emerge.

"Say, that's the same girl I saw watching one of your ballgames a week or so ago, Richie," Jason said.

Richie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's Cassie."

"Maybe she likes you," Melinda said with a smirk. Cassie turned in their direction and appeared to stare at them.

"She doesn't look so bad," Jason commented. All of them remained silent until the limo had pulled away and she was no longer being seen against its black paint. "And she's all right ... well, in other ways."

"I don't see it, either, Jason," Melinda said happily.

Richie snorted. "That's a surprise. If anyone would have it, it would be little miss weirdo."

"Oh, shut up, Richie!" Melinda smiled and waved a hand. "Cassie!"

"Gah, don't do that! She might come over here!"

"Richie, stop being such a turd, all right? She was my friend back in ... "

Melinda trailed off as Cassie abruptly dashed over to the school entrance and disappeared inside. Melinda's mouth became an indignant pout.

Richie snorted. "Yeah, some friend."

"Listen, we better get inside," Jason suggested loudly, cutting off Melinda's retort. He glanced at Richie for a moment and forced a smile. "You know, maybe he's right. Maybe we're making too much out of this, about the aura thing. I'm sure we've got time before we have to ... uh ..."

"Have to what? What the fuck were you thinkin' we'd do if we saw someone, huh? Report him to the principal? Oh, Miss Bendon! Johnny has this evil black smoke around him! I'd call an exorcist if I were you!"

"Richie, stop it," Heather said, though there was some amusement to her voice. She had to admit that the imagery that this conjured up was funny.

Melinda was not quite as mollified, but she was tired of being on edge all the time. She sighed and looked back towards the school. "Shit, I hope I can find everything," she muttered.

Heather looked about to move in and comfort her sister, but Jason intercepted and threw an arm around Melinda's shoulders. This was a bold move for him, so much so that his heart was pounding in his chest. Melinda could feel him trembling against her, as well as hear the quaver in his voice when he spoke.

"I'll help you get around, no problem, Melinda."

Melinda thought this so endearing that she smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek. Jason blinked and then blushed beet red.

Heather uttered a weak chuckle at this, but it was a cover for another emotion that had threatened to well up in her before she could quell it: jealousy. For a brief moment, she hated Jason for taking her place at Melinda's side. It passed quickly, but the fact that it had been there at all disturbed her.

"We better get going," Jason said in a flustered voice as he pointed towards the entrance. A man with a sagging, bulldog-like face standing to the side of the door had begun gesturing towards them in annoyance.

"Hey, isn't that Mr. Seeger, the vice principal?" Heather asked.

"Yeah, that's ol' saggy-seeger all right," Richie muttered. "So?"

"Well, the previous two years it was always Principal Bendon that greeted everyone."

Richie just shrugged. He didn't care for either one of them. Miss Bendon was always handing him detention for one thing or another, and Mr. Seeger was the one that ran detention. To him, one was more or less like the other.

"Damn, I hope they didn't make him principal this year," Jason whispered as they started up the stairs.

"No, Mr. Conner, happily that is not the case."

The four of them came to a stop as the jowl-faced man glowered at them.

"Er ... I-I just meant ..." Jason stammered.

"I knew exactly what you meant, Mr. Conner," Mr. Seeger said haughtily. "And you will be happy to know that I share the sentiment. I do not wish the position. Miss Bendon is simply indisposed at the moment."

The disdain with which he said this suggested he would rather be somewhere else.

"Now, stop dawdling and get on to your homeroom classes. Except you." He pointed a meaty finger at Melinda.

Melinda just stared.

Mr. Seeger was one of those unfortunate individuals -- unfortunate to the students, that is -- that had instant recall of every face that graced the halls of the school. Thus when he saw one he did not recognize, he knew right away it was an incoming freshman. "Freshman orientation is in the auditorium. I trust Miss Sovert here can find the way for you."

He eyed Jason suspiciously at the same time he said this. He was of the belief that teenage boys were lower life forms bent on ravaging the female student body, thus he viewed the closeness between Jason and Melinda as a danger.

Heather rushed forward and placed her hands on Melinda's shoulders. "I'll be happy to show her the way, Mr. Seeger. I'm her sister."

"Yes, that would figure." He gestured for the four of them to go inside. As they passed, he turned to Richie. "Oh, and Mr. Gardner? I suggest you simply head over to detention and save yourself the trip later. I'm sure you will wind up there eventually anyway."

"I missed you too, Mr. Seeger," Richie said with a smirk. "You're such a ray of sunlight in my dark and dreary little life."

Despite her feelings towards Richie, Melinda had to clamp her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Mr. Seeger frowned. "Shut up and get to class."

Cassie had forgotten all about Melinda Sovert.

It had already been a bit of a shock to see Richie standing there almost as soon as she stepped out of the limo. At once, her thoughts began to race, and she was unsure of herself again. Maybe he didn't mind her hanging around after all? Maybe she just misinterpreted things at the park?

Then she had spotted Melinda and panicked.

Before she knew it, she was dashing past Mr. Seeger and had lost herself in the boisterous crowd in the school corridors, hugging her notebooks to her bosom like a shield.

Melinda had been her only friend in grammar school. Or at least the only one she dared to call a friend. She was the only one that never made mention of Cassie's money, either for good or bad. Melinda simply treated her as a person.

But that was before the journal. Before she started having the odd dreams. She couldn't stand the idea of going over to Melinda and her friends and feeling mortified when Melinda rejected her as being too "weird" now.

And now, to make matters worse, she shared homeroom with Richie Gardner.

Cassie had almost hoped that the memory of how he had ignored her and chatted up the blonde bombshell would let her stay upset with him to mask any other feelings she had. It had been in vain in any case.

Homeroom was only fifteen minutes long. Enough to take roll call and make announcements. Cassie cast furtive glances towards Richie, located an aisle over and forward of her seat. Fleeting images of her dreams flitted through her mind, and her sex tingled. By the time the bell rang to signal the change to the first class of the day, her pussy was damp.

Cassie couldn't stop herself. She had to talk to him.

Richie was closer to the door and made it out first. Cassie had to rush to catch up with him. Once out in the hall, however, she slowed and hung back. He was looking up and down the corridor, sweeping the students with his gaze, occasionally rising on tip-toes to gaze over the crowd. He finally stopped and uttered a frustrated sigh.

Cassie rushed up to him. "Looking for someone, Richie?"

Richie flinched in surprise. "Huh? Oh ... it's you."

Cassie sensed the disappointment in his voice. She ignored it. "Yes, it's me, Cassie. You remember me, don't you?"

"Er, yeah, I do," Richie said with a small smirk. "You were watching me play."

She smiled and nodded.

"Liked what you saw?"

She looked at him oddly. "Pardon?"

"I won almost every game."

"Won almost ... oh, the ballgames! Yes! Yes, I enjoyed watching you ... the games very much."

"Cool. Well, gotta go. See ya."

He turned and started away from her. She caught up with him. "Uh, were you looking for someone, Richie?"

Richie gave her an exasperated look. "Yeah, I guess I was."

"Anyone I know? Maybe I can help you find him."

"Her, actually."

"Oh." Cassie paused. She had to jog a bit again to catch up, as he seemed to have quickened his step suddenly. "Well, who is she? Maybe I know her."

"Nah, you don't know her, Cassie, trust me."

"Well, you never know. Describe her to me. I bet I'll know who it is."

Richie sighed and rolled his eyes. "No, you won't."

"Try me. Seriously, try me! I know just about everyone in the school."

"Uh, yeah, right, Cassie," he said with a smirk.

"I do! Look, I don't just see them here. I see their faces in my dreams. Sometimes they talk to me. They ... uh ..."

Richie gave her a funny look.

Cassie blushed. "Ok, never mind that. I just know a lot of people, that's all. Just ..."

"Cassie, look, I don't need any help, okay?"

She sighed in frustration. "Richie, this is not like you."

Richie stared at her. "Huh? What the fuck does that mean? How am I supposed to be?"

Cassie winced. She hated profanity. "I just mean you weren't like this last year, when you ..."

But by this time, Richie was no longer listening. The crowd of students had thinned, as most of them had by now found their first class of the day. He had just glimpsed a familiar blonde step into one of the classrooms. While today she was dressed more conservatively in slacks and a blouse, there was no mistaking that figure.

"There she is! Linda! Hey, Linda!"

Richie burst past Cassie, nearly bowling her over as the edge of his backpack caught her.

Cassie stumbled, righting herself in time to see Richie dash up the corridor and towards the classroom where the blonde had entered.

She had recognized the woman as well. She was faster on the uptake than Richie had been, as she already knew as Melinda did that there was a new teacher named Linda Davis at the school. She had recalled thinking that the girl that Richie had been so enamored of was rather older than perhaps he was assuming.

And she also realized that Richie had not figured this out yet.

"Oh dear!" She ran after him. "Richie! Wait! She's not what you think ... I mean, she's ..."

But by the time she had caught up with him, he had already crossed the threshold and now stood just inside a classroom filled with senior year students, all of whom were looking at him in amusement. She stopped just short of entering the room with him and hung back in the corridor instead.

"Hello, Mr. Gardner."

Richie looked towards the front of the class.

She was indeed exactly as he had remembered her. Long blonde hair, deep liquid blue eyes, fantastic figure. Even with her more conservative attire, her blouse was just tight enough to show off the nicely rounded breasts, and the slacks just snug enough to show off the flare of her hips.

She gave Richie a gentle smile.

"Er ... hi, Li ... uh ... Miss Davis," Richie stammered.

"While I'm happy to see you eager to learn history with me, you'll have to wait until your scheduled class later this morning."

Richie stared at her for a moment. He had a great deal of trouble seeing her as a teacher. All he could remember was the gorgeous blonde he had seen in the park, the one that, in his mind at least, had come on to him and practically invited him to ask her out. For that whole week before school, he had entertained vivid notions of her being just as he had described her: oh-so-fuckable. And always with him on the giving end of it.

"Do you need me to help direct you to your classroom, Mr. Gardner?"

Some of the students sniggered. One whispered a comment to another, ending in more snickering. Richie heard part of it. "Shut the fuck up," he snarled.

"That's quite enough." Miss Davis strode across the room towards Richie, a hard expression on her face. "Please get to your class, Mr. Gardner. You're going to be late as it is. I would appreciate you not disrupting my class as well. Or using such profanity for that matter."

Richie made a face. "Yes, Miss Davis," he spat through clenched teeth. He turned and stomped out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him.

He stood in the hall for a moment, seething.

"I'm sorry," Cassie said helplessly. "If I knew that you were looking for her, I ..."

Richie glared at her. "What? Laughed at me?!"

"Huh? No! Never! I ..."

Richie sneered and stormed off.

Cassie watched him go. When he was safely out of sight around a corner, she allowed herself a small smile.

She could not help it. It was amusing. He actually had no idea that she was a teacher! If it had been anyone other than Richie, she indeed would have laughed.

She was also smiling for another reason. She simply did not know it at the time, or have the ability to fathom what the reason was even if she did know.

"Hey, man, I'm really sorry about my friend Richie. He's not usually like that, really."

Frank Darrens turned his bespectacled face towards Jason as the two of them walked to their next class and just shrugged, his brown eyes subdued. "I'm used to it," he commented glumly. "The littlest kid always gets the short end of it, you know?"

Jason chose not to comment on this. He had been rather surprised to see the kid whose seat on the bus Richie had usurped in his homeroom class. As it turned out, he was not a freshman at all, but a sophomore like Jason. He was even the same age.

Frank didn't quite look it, though. He stood nearly a head shorter than Jason, with a smooth, round face that suggested someone from the latter years of grammar school rather than second year of high school.

Jason saw the boy's eyes regard him appraisingly from behind the wide-lensed glasses that subsumed half his face. Even some of his dark brown bangs draped over the top of them. Jason thought with some amusement that the boy looked a little like his impression of a young Bill Gates.

"I have to admit, I don't remember you from last year," Jason said cautiously.

"That's because I wasn't here last year," Frank replied, a slight edge to his voice. "Moved here from Denver over the summer. Pfft. Like I had any say in it."

Jason sensed the frustration in his words. He gave the kid a sympathetic smile. "Don't like it in Haven, huh?"

"I hate it. Gotta problem with that?" Frank said defiantly.

"From me? No way. My Dad moved us here a few years ago. No idea why. I can't stand it either."

"What the hell is there to do around this town, huh?" Frank cried, lifting his arms briefly and letting them fall to his sides in his exasperation. "The library here is still in the twentieth century! The museum is a freakin' joke! And just because I'm on the north side of Vaughn instead of the south, I can't get DSL. Goddamn."

Jason's smile widened. "Man, I hear you. Though I do have broadband. Cable."

"Pfft. My cheapskate step mom won't pay for shit. DSL's just in her price range, but we're considered to be too far out in the boonies to get it."

"Step mom?"

Jason realized asking that was probably personal, but Frank answered anyway, as if giving many pent up frustrations vent at once. "My Dad remarried last year. Then he's always away on business trips so I get stuck with the wicked witch of Haven and her bimbo daughter." He sighed and shook his head. "Shit, I never wanted a sister. Not one like her."

"Sorry, man," Jason said softly. He admitted to being more curious about Frank's home life, but decided not to pry.

Frank just waved a hand of dismissal. "You don't wanna hear about me."

"Yeah, I do. Hey, you want to come over to my house sometime?"

Frank raised his eyebrows. "Your house? Wait, did you say you had cable internet?"

Jason smirked. "Yep."

"Awesome!" He paused a minute as they came up on the next class that they shared. "Hey, uh, sorry I kinda vented all over you back there."

Jason shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

"I just didn't want you to think I was trying to make you feel bad or something. I'm just pissed off at my family right now."

"If I feel bad, it's because of Richie earlier on the bus. I'm just sorry you caught him on a bad day."

Frank snorted. "Does he ever have a good day?"

"Well, yeah. Kind of. Really, he's not all that bad. He's bummed about something, too."

"It sucks because I actually like school, you know?"

Jason grinned. "Yep, I do." He paused. "Hey, I got an idea."

"What?"

"I just remembered that I have an old wireless bridge at home. You want it? I'll bet you anything that someone in your neighborhood's got an unprotected wireless network you can latch on to."

Frank's gaped at him. "You serious?!"

"Oh, yeah. This is Haven, dude. They roll up the sidewalks at night. No one thinks about securing their ..."

"No, I don't mean that! You'd give that to me? Free?"

"Sure, why not? I'm not using it."

Frank eyed Jason for a moment. He hated having this attack of suspicion again, since it was obvious that Jason was just trying to be nice to him. Yet he had had far too much turmoil in his life recently to want to take any chances.

It was bad enough that he had a step mom that was always critical of him. He also had to deal with a stepsister that was bossy in the extreme. It didn't help matters much that she had decided to attend the community college in Haven, so she was still living at home.

"No strings attached?" Frank asked warily. "Don't have to do you some favor later for it?"

"No, man. Hell, you can just have it. I don't really need it. It'll make up for Richie acting so shitty towards you."

Frank finally broke into a wide smile. He clasped Jason's hand firmly and shook it. "Shit, man, thanks. First time anyone's given me a break since I moved here. Maybe it won't be so bad after all."

Jason smirked. "Geeks gotta stick together, you know."

Frank blinked and then laughed as the two of them walked into the classroom together.

Richie had considered skipping Miss Davis' class. It would not have been the first time that he had skipped a class in his school career just because he felt like it. All it did was earn him some detention. He preferred detention to some of the teachers he had to deal with.

That was until his eyes scanned down the printout and saw the policy change, the one which stated that truancy was an automatic suspension and possible expulsion.

He sighed, though he smirked slightly to himself. He would not have been surprised if it had been his own truancy that had prompted the policy change. He remembered overhearing some of the principal's staff mentioning that he broke the record with regard to most unexplained absences from class or school.

"My fifteen minutes of fame," he remarked to himself as he put the schedule away.

Richie attended the class. He refused to give the instructor a single glance when he walked in, and he chose a seat as far in the back as possible. He saw her trying to catch his eye before the start of class, but he ignored it.

Paying attention in that class was hard. He still could not see Miss Davis as anything but the fuckable sexy young thing with the long legs and big boobs. While her current attire perhaps muted the "fuckable" part (though not by much), it did nothing to hide the legs or tits. The former still moved with slim grace under her slacks, and the latter still jiggled enticingly in her blouse when she strode back and forth in front of the class.

If anything, Richie resented the way she constantly walked about. It was as if she were strutting for them, teasing them with something that they simply could not have.

When the bell rang to end the class, Richie slammed his book shut, shoved it into his backpack, and sprinted for the door.

"Mr. Gardner, I'd like to see you for a moment."

Richie stopped and cursed under his breath. He turned and trod heavily over to Miss Davis' desk, casting a sullen look at her. "You wanted to see me, Miss Davis?" he said in a slightly mocking tone of voice.

Miss Davis waited another moment for the last of the students to leave.

"I won't keep you long, since you all have the assembly in the auditorium next, and I have heard that Principal Bendon is a stickler for punctuality," she said in a softer tone of voice than she had been using during class. "I wanted to apologize to you, Richie."

His eyebrows rose when she used his first name. "Huh?"

Miss Davis sighed. "It was a mistake for me to do what I did a week ago."

Richie just shrugged. "Just a stupid ballgame," he muttered.

"I don't mean that. I mean about what happened afterward."

"Nothing happened afterward," Richie said. The bitterness in his voice suggested that he wished it had been otherwise. In a softer voice he added, "We just talked, that's all."

"Yes, but I think I led you on. I made you think I was something I wasn't."

Richie said nothing.

Miss Davis sighed and smiled gently. "I do like you, Richie," she said, reaching out and touching him lightly on his shoulder. "Just so you know. But ... not in that way."

Richie drew in a deep breath at her touch. He felt a stirring in his pants. "Yeah, I'm just a stupid kid, right?"

"I didn't mean it that way."

"Yeah, you did." He backed up from her touch.

"I'm ten years older than you, Richie. And I'm a teacher. I only realized after that day that I might have given you the wrong idea."

Richie felt flushed. "No, you didn't. I didn't get any ideas, okay?" he snapped, his voice rising. "No ideas at all."

Miss Davis looked at him intently for a few more moments. She knew he was lying. She also knew that if she called him out on it, it would only embarrass him. At the same time, not calling him out on it meant he'd be carrying around these repressed feelings about her.

She erred on the side of caution for the moment. "All right, Richie. In that case, then, I suppose there's no problem."

Richie shrugged. "Was there ever?"

Another pause. "I suppose not."

"May I go, Miss Davis?" Richie said with exaggerated politeness.

"You may go, Mr. Gardner," Miss Davis replied with overdone formality.

Richie turned and fled.

Miss Davis sighed again and shook her head in Richie's wake. She sincerely hoped that this was not going to come back and haunt her at some point.

"Jason! Wait!"

Jason abandoned his search for his new friend Frank at the sound of Melinda's voice. He had barely turned around when she was upon him, throwing her arms around him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Um, what was that for?" Jason asked, his cheeks pink.

Melinda smiled. "I didn't see anything," she said happily.

"Oh, you mean your teachers?"

"Teachers and students. They're all okay."

"I didn't see anything either. I ..."

"Heather!" Melinda suddenly shouted, looking past Jason and waving wildly. "Over here!"

Jason turned to see Heather approach the auditorium entrance along with the stream of students coming in from the west wing. She was flanked by a tall, lanky girl with long, dark hair. Heather turned at the sound of Melinda's voice and rolled her eyes. "I'll catch up with you later, Diane. Have to go sit with the runt."

Diane gave Heather a sympathetic look and let herself be herded into the auditorium with the other students. Heather dodged around them instead until she came up to her little sister.

Heather had hoped she would have made it here before her sister. Now that she had hooked up with all her old friends again, it managed to distract her from her troubled thoughts. She had hoped to just sit with some of them and forget about everything else that had happened. That morning had been the first true peace of mind she had had in several weeks.

When she saw Melinda, however, she felt obligated to sit with her. She was sure that it was just out of a sense of duty and nothing else.

"Did you see anything, Heather?"

"Huh? Oh ... no, I didn't. Not even a trace."

Melinda hopped once in her excitement. She raised her head again. "Richie! Richie, over here!"

"Yeah, fine, whatever, I ain't deef, ya know!" Richie grumbled. He had already been on his way over to them when Melinda saw him. "What I do now?"

"Nothing, Richie. I just want to know if you saw anything."

Richie smirked. "Yeah, I saw lots of things."

Melinda's eyes widened. "Y-you did?" she asked in a small voice.

Heather punched him lightly in the arm.

"Ow! What the fuck?!"

"She means, did you see anyone with the aura," Heather said.

Richie rolled his eyes. "Are we on that kick again? Shit."

"Richie, did you or didn't you see anything?" Melinda asked, giving him an indignant look and a single stamp of her foot.

"Well, I saw a student stuffing two gray-skinned alien bodies into a locker, a teacher trying to rebury Jimmy Hoffa, and the janitor was having tea and crumpets with Elvis," Richie quipped. "But no spooky black smoke, no."

"You suck, Richie."

"Love you too, Mel."

Melinda's hands balled into fists. "Fine! Just don't speak to me anymore, okay?! If you don't care about this, you can just go fuck yourself! Come on, Jason."

Before Jason could react, she grabbed his hand and stormed off into the auditorium with him in tow stumbling along beside her.

"Nice going," Heather muttered.

"Don't you start, okay?!" Richie snapped. "I don't wanna hear it! I've had enough shit dumped on me today!"

Heather gave him a puzzled look, but before she could think to say anything, he turned away and stomped off towards the auditorium.

Somehow, all four managed to sit together, though Melinda and Richie made sure to sit on opposite sides. Melinda made sure Jason sat down next to her and held his hand. Her eyes darted over the other students in the seats around them and the ones that continued to stream in from the hall.

"Still nothing?" Jason asked her softly.

Melinda nodded quickly, uttering a sigh of relief. She glanced over to the stage and the podium, where some of the faculty were gathered. "They're okay, too."

Jason nodded absently. He admitted that he was not actively trying to see any auras, but he was grateful to hear that none were to be found. He managed to relax somewhat. He looked over to Melinda and said very softly. "I'm really sorry about Richie."

"Just don't talk to me about him," Melinda replied, though not as softly. From the other side of Heather, Richie leaned forward briefly to shoot her a glare, then folded his arms and looked sullenly straight ahead.

Jason sighed. This was the second time he felt like he had to apologize for Richie. Maybe having him as a friend again was not such a good idea after all. Yet he did not want to just ignore him. The bond that was shared between the four of them because of the House was too great to ignore. No group of people could go through an experience like that and not feel some sort of connection with each other.

Jason had to hope it was just the first day back that was getting to Richie.

Between Jason and Richie, Heather was sitting still and quiet in her seat. Her eyes were not revealing anything either. She knew she should feel more relaxed at this, but something was making her tense. And it was only getting worse as the minutes ticked by.

The tide of students had abated. All of Haven High was seated in the auditorium. At the stage, a few faculty chatted idly. Some looked at their watches and glanced off to towards the entry from the side hallway impatiently.

"Something's wrong."

Jason and Melinda immediately turned to Heather. Richie did not react visibly, except to arch a single eyebrow derisively, but he was listening nonetheless.

"Did you see something, Heather?" Jason asked. He felt Melinda squeeze his hand.

Heather shook her head. "No, but ... but something's wrong."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Richie demanded, though there was an undercurrent of nervousness to it.

"I don't know, it's just a feeling." Heather swallowed. She was trembling. She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself, but it had no effect. If anything, the feeling was growing worse.

Jason furrowed his brow and looked towards the stage. "Wait, where's Principal Bendon?"

"She's not there?" Melinda asked in a hollow voice. "But I thought she was giving the talk."

"She is, but ..."

"Oh, what's the big fucking deal?" Richie called out. "She's late, that's all. Doesn't mean shit."

"Yes, it does!" Heather said, her voice quavering. "She's never late for anything. I've been at this school longer than any of you, and this is not like her. This is not normal."

Melinda swallowed. "J-jason?"

Jason blinked. Like with the House before this, he again felt that people were turning to him for all the answers. "Well, uh, Heather is right about the principal being rather punctual, but ..."

"But nothing!" Richie cried. "For fuck's sake people! Oh, let me guess. She'll show up and say, 'Hey kids! A funny thing happened on my way to the auditorium! I got possessed by the devil!'."

"Richie!" Melinda hissed.

"No, this is stupid! You're all expecting the big bad bogeyman to pop out from behind every ..."

There was a loud clanking noise as the side door to the auditorium opened, and Principal Laura Bendon strode towards the stage. Throughout the auditorium, the students slowly fell silent.

Heather's eyes widened, shimmering in mounting dread and fear, her lower lip quivering. "Oh my God ..."

Melinda gasped and went pale, staring in horror.

Jason swallowed once and blinked, as if trying to make it go away.

Richie just stared, his mouth open slightly, his eyes betraying both confusion and anxiety.

The cloak of blackness flowed out behind Principal Bendon like the long train of an ethereal gown. Unlike any other they had seen so far, this was a completely opaque, living darkness that writhed and undulated as if it had a mind of its own. It slithered after its mistress like a horrible parasite attached to its prey. When she stopped at the podium and turned towards the students, it pooled behind her briefly, then flowed up her back and sides and around her arms, forming a sort of loose-fitting dress or robe over her normal clothing. It did not stop moving, but continued to seethe and flow, as if agitated.

Or excited.

"Welcome, students," Principal Bendon said in a steady, commanding voice, "to another year at Haven High School."

Feedback

Did you like this story? Hate it? Printed it and lined the birdcage with it?

Please take a moment to send me some comments about this story. Your comments may remain anonymous if you prefer, or you can include an email address in your comments if you wish a reply.

Since this is a multi-part story, you may wait until the last chapter to send feedback about the story as a whole if you wish.