Wednesday morning, and the Haven Harbingers stood staring at the east entrance of the school.

They had christened themselves with this name on the bus ride that morning, after much acrimonious debate. Actually, it was Jason that had settled it. He had not wanted to get involved, as he thought it silly to come up with a name for themselves. Out of frustration to end the pointless debate, he blurted out that name, and it was accepted.

After explaining to Richie exactly what "harbinger" meant, that is. Richie had not been entirely convinced of the merits of that name (his exact words were "that sucks") but the others were tired of arguing and accepted it.

It was about that point that Jason came to a realization. It had not been his imagination that the others had been looking to him. Once they had named their group, he knew that he had just become the de-facto leader of it. He wasn't sure what he had done to deserve it, but he accepted it grudgingly.

"We've got about fifteen minutes," Jason said. "After that I'll get a lateness on my record."

"Betcha your mom will ream you for that," Richie said with a smirk.

"No, she won't. I'd be more concerned about my dad," Jason said darkly.

Richie's smirk faded. "Oh, hey, sorry, I forgot about that ..."

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

"So did you figure out a story to tell the nurse yet?" Melinda asked.

Jason sighed. He had wracked his brains over that the night before while waiting to fall asleep. It had kept him up a good two hours before he figured out something. "Yeah, you could say that."

He reached into a pocket of his jeans and carefully extracted what looked like several facial tissues wrapped around something thin and rectangular. He carefully unfolded the tissues to reveal a straight-edge razor blade.

Melinda gasped loudly. Heather, who had been anxiously gazing towards the school, turned her attention back to the others. Her eyes widened and she stepped between Jason and the school. "Jason! They catch you with that, they'll expel you on the spot!" she hissed.

"Yeah, what the fuck, man??" Richie cried softly. "You know they're gung ho about no weapons in school. You can't even look at anyone funny without bein' called out on it!"

"They suspended a kid last year for just bringing some nail clippers into class!"

"Will you all shut up?!" Jason whisper-shouted. He glanced around to see if anyone were paying anything other than casual interest in them. "I'll just drop it on the ground before I go in. I only need it out here."

"Out here?" Melinda said, confused. "What are you going to use it for?"

Jason picked up the blade in his other hand. "Well, I have to have a good excuse for seeing the nurse, don't I?" He extended the index finger of the original hand. "Something that won't make her suspicious, right?"

"Ohmigod, Jason, you're not going to ..." Heather said, trailing off.

Jason placed one corner of the blade against the pad of his finger.

"Jason! No!" Melinda cried.

"Oh man ..." Richie muttered, staring.

Jason closed his eyes tightly and jerked his hand in a single swift movement to the sharp intake of breath of the girls. The pain was surprisingly mild, yet the effect was dramatic. As he dropped the blade to the gravel, kicking it with his foot to conceal it, several bright red drops formed along the narrow slash and fell to the ground in a continuous march.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Melinda said miserably.

Heather paled, swallowing.

Richie clapped Jason on the back. "Man, that's ... that's fuckin' brave of ya."

Jason rolled his eyes and quickly wrapped the tissues tightly around his injured finger. His hands shook, his heart racing, his stomach trying to lurch and heave as of only now realizing what he had just done to himself. He tasted bile in his mouth briefly. "Nothing brave about it," he muttered. "Just meant I couldn't come up with anything better."

"Oh, eww, it's already soaking through the tissues," Melinda said, wrinkling her nose.

"You better get that looked at, Jason," Heather said, her voice quavering. She shook her head slowly. "I have to admit, that's a crazy idea."

"Yeah, Jason! I wouldn't have let you do it if you had told me about it."

Jason smirked. "Why do you think I didn't tell you?"

Melinda gave him an indignant look.

Blood formed a single drop on the now soaked tissues. He shook it off in annoyance and raced towards the school entrance.

"I don't believe he did that!" Melinda cried shrilly. "He ... he cut his own finger! God!"

"What the hell was he thinking?" Heather chimed in.

Richie rolled his eyes. "Aw, c'mon, it's not like he freakin' broke his leg or something. Shit. Just a little cut."

"A little cut?" Melinda cried. "Then you pick up the blade and you do it next!"

Richie bit down a retort. He wouldn't let on to the others, but he was seriously impressed with what Jason did. He felt an obligation now not to get his girlfriend into another snit.

Fortunately, a distraction behind Melinda came to his assistance. He turned his head and nodded in that direction. "Hey, there's Cassie."

"Huh?" Melinda whirled around, her hair nearly hitting Richie on the face. She watched as Cassie quickly dashed from the limo and into the east entrance.

"Why don't you go talk to her or something?"

Melinda turned and shot Richie an angry glare.

"What I do now?! You said you were friends with her before. You've been wanting to talk to her. Go do it!"

"I should! After you were so mean to her ..."

"Fine. I was mean. I was an asshole. Satisfied? Now go talk to her. You two can say nasty things about me behind my back."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it!" Melinda whirled again and stormed off.

Heather smirked. "That was not a good idea."

"Oh, yeah?"

"By the end of the week, every girl in school will think you're an asshole."

Richie just shrugged. He was pretty sure that this is what most of the girls already thought of him. That was why the revelation about Miss Davis had been such a large blow to him. He thought he had finally met a girl with whom he had made a decent first impression before she heard any of the stories about him.

"Whatever," Richie said dismissively. He looked at Heather. "So you pickin' up any vibes or something?"

"You mean, do I still have a really bad feeling about all this? Yeah, I do. I don't like this. Maybe ... maybe more than one of us should have gone."

"Yeah, but she'd start thinking something funny was goin' on with four kids showing up with finger cuts, you know?"

Heather said nothing in response.

Richie shook his head. "Look, we'll find out soon enough. He said the Hairbringers ..."

"Harbingers," Heather corrected.

"Whatever ... should meet near the auditorium before first class." He paused and groaned. "Man, I still think that name sounds stupid. What the fuck was a harbinger again?"

"Someone that foretells something else," Heather explained. "Something that comes ahead of another. Like we come ahead of the darkness, I suppose."

Richie's expression soured. "Yeah, well ... considering what I saw on Mom yesterday, I think the darkness got a head start on us."

Jason was briefly accosted by one teacher for running in the halls. When he raised his bloody finger, however, the teacher immediately told him to report to the nurse's station. At least now his mission was "official," as a teacher had told him to do it.

He was actually dismayed when he saw the flow of blood slow. He had wondered if the sharpness of the blade would have produced too clean a cut that scabbed over too quickly. He remembered a year ago when he had been helping his father with something in the attic and had accidentally shot a staple from a staple gun into the pad of his finger. The staple had gone in and out so cleanly when it bounced off the bone that it had bled profusely for thirty seconds and then simply stopped.

It was too late to worry about any of this, for he had reached the end of the hallway in the west wing and stood before the door labeled "Nurse's Station" in large lettering. He took a deep breath and let himself in.

Jason stepped into the small reception area, paused, then closed the door behind him. He swallowed, his heart pounding. He glanced at the desk, noting how oddly empty it appeared. In fact, there was little adornment anywhere.

Jason was about to call out when his senses were jolted by the scrape of heel against tile.

"Yes? May I help you?"

Jason was too stunned to speak.

The very thing he had dreaded he would see, and it was the first thing that leapt out at him. He saw it before he saw her. Unlike Principal Bendon, it did not hug her body like a second skin, or like a cloak or other attire. Instead, it was a thick, roiling, utterly black miasma. It swirled and oozed like oil, hovering around her body like a loose-fitting cocoon.

As he stared, he saw the patterns straining to emerge from the chaos. Yet instead of making him lightheaded this time, it filled him with increasing fear. It seemed to be trying to form shapes behind her. It would not come to him easily. Sometimes it appeared to stretch and shape itself, but the next moment it would writhe and undulate and fall back upon itself. It was as if it were fighting him, his mind intent on committing it to a form, while it resisted and insisted there was no form to be found.

Nyssa cocked her head slightly to one side in curiosity and stepped forward. Now Jason's attention was captured by her rather than the aura, and it became difficult to think.

Jason could not comprehend her beauty. Her hair, her breasts, her hips, her legs ... everything was simply perfect. And then there were the eyes ...

The moment his gaze touched hers, he felt a cold tingle shoot through his body, making him shiver. Before he could be drawn into the icy depths, he blinked and tried to avert his eyes. He was only partially successful, managing to stop looking directly into them. At the same time, he was compelled to keep them in his field of vision, where they seemed to sparkle like rime on an autumn morning.

Now Nyssa stood before him. The darkness swirled excitedly around her.

"May I help you?" Nyssa repeated in a more sultry tone of voice.

Jason took a breath, trying to ignore the effect she was having in his nether regions. "Um ... y-yes, I ... I hurt my finger on some broken glass." He paused and raised his finger.

Nyssa's lips drew into a pout and she cradled his hand in hers. Jason drew in his breath sharply as a shudder passed through his body at even just the light touch. "Oh, yes, I see ... mmm, quite nasty cut you gave yourself."

"Gave myself? No, no. Uh, I thought I saw something shiny in ... i-in the gravel in the parking lot and just bent over to pick it up, that's all."

Nyssa gave him a wry grin. She placed her other hand atop his and caressed him softly. "I'm sure it was an accident. Unless of course ... it was an excuse to see me."

Jason swallowed. His breath quickened and there was a very rigid and uncomfortable hardness in his jeans. His cock was caught in a position where it could not expand completely. He struggled not to look directly into her eyes. The miasma around her seemed to waver, occasionally fading out a bit, coming into clear perception again only when he managed to jerk his gaze slightly.

Nyssa squeezed his hand. His heart thumped.

"Oh, don't worry ... I would be most ... flattered ... if that were the case."

Jason managed a smile. As excited as he grew sexually in her presence, his fear was rising in equal measure. He kept waiting for signs that the darkness was stealing his mind, just as it had in the House, just as he was sure it had done to Richie's mom the day before. Save for his arousal and the unnatural attraction of her eyes, he felt like he was still in control of his thoughts for the time being.

"Here, let me take you inside and we'll get that fixed up for you. After all ... there's hardly any pleasure in an injury. And if there's one thing I wish for the students, it is pleasure."

The word came out as a seductive, sultry sigh, and she licked her lips. Jason felt his skin go hot, and the stiffness in his crotch grow uncomfortable almost to the point of pain.

Nyssa smiled at him. She started to turn, stopped, and dropped her eyes. Jason uttered a quick sigh of relief as eye contact was broken, but it was short lived with he felt something hook into the belt of his jeans.

He looked down. His eyes became saucers and his mouth dropped open as he spotted Nyssa's finger hooked into the waist of his jeans, just above his crotch.

Nyssa grinned wickedly, then gave the waist of his jeans a sharp tug.

Jason gasped. In his pants, his cock was jolted from its awkward position and immediately expanded to its full, pulsing length, relieving the uncomfortable pressure.

"Better?" Nyssa asked.

Jason swallowed hard and nodded.

Nyssa lifted her hand. "Come with me, Jason."

"Cassie?"

Cassie flinched at the sound of the voice, even as softly as it spoke. She cast two startled eyes in its direction.

"Sorry," Melinda said sheepishly. "Um ... you remember me? Melinda Sovert?"

Cassie started nodding halfway through her question. "I remember you," Cassie said in a low voice. She forced a small smile. "Hi."

"Uh, hi."

There was an awkward pause between the two of them. Then both tried to speak at once.

"Melinda, I didn't meant to ignore you, I ..."

"Cassie, I'm sorry Richie was such a turd towards ..."

Both fell silent again. What Melinda had started to say now registered in Cassie's mind. Cassie drew a long breath. "You don't have to apologize for him," she said in a strained voice.

"Between you and me, Cassie, the only reason I hang out with him at all is because he's Jason's friend. I can't stand him otherwise."

Melinda admittedly felt a small twinge of guilt over saying this. She did indeed have sympathy for Richie and what he was going through with his mother. Seeing him freak out over it the day before cast Richie in a slightly more sympathetic light with her. But she valued Cassie's friendship more. She was the only familiar face outside of her own close circle. The only others she knew were some of her peers from her former grammar school, many of whom she didn't like.

Cassie managed a tiny smile, thought there was little humor to it. "Richie thinks I'm a weirdo, doesn't he?"

"You're not a weirdo, Cassie!"

"But that's what he thinks. Isn't it?"

Melinda paused a long moment. "Yes," she said in a very small voice.

Cassie sighed despondently. She felt a sob trying to rise up from her tightening chest.

"Look, Cassie, what does he know, huh? He treats anything he doesn't understand like it's weird or stupid. He's just like that. Forget about him."

"I can't," Cassie said in a barely audible voice.

"You ... what?"

"I can't forget him. I can't stop thinking about him. I can't ... I can't stop dreaming about him."

Melinda felt herself giving Cassie a funny look and stopped it at once. She simply could not comprehend how anyone could possibly have the hots for someone like Richie. "Uh ... you dream about him?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes. And now you think I'm weird, too."

"Huh? No, I don't!"

"But it is weird, Melinda! It is! Even I can say it now. Nothing is normal about me."

Melinda did not respond at first.

Cassie rushed into the silence. "I used to think other people had dreams like I did. They don't. Not as real-looking as mine. Not about so many people."

Melinda hesitated. "Well ... s-so what?"

"So what? Melinda, my dreams ... they ... they take so much out of me ... it's like living another reality every night ... I ..."

Melinda was staring at her.

Cassie sighed. "See? Exactly what I said. I'm not normal, and now you think it, too."

"But ... well ... who cares? Who's normal anyway?"

"Look in the mirror, Melinda," Cassie said gently. "Then you'll see someone normal. I wish I could be that way."

Melinda snorted. "You've got to be kidding."

Cassie looked at her oddly.

"Me, normal? Puh-lease. If I told you half the stuff that happened to me this summer, you'd think I was ready for the loony bin! You think your dreams are strange? Hah! Nothing compared to some of this!"

Cassie's look of confusion turned to one of interest. "Really? What happened to you?"

Melinda blinked. Only now did she realize what she had said. "Uh ... well ... "

"Was it really that odd? Like my dreams?"

"I-I can't tell you in the hallway here, we'll be late for homeroom."

"Can you meet me after school?" asked Cassie eagerly.

Melinda's heart sank. How much could she trust of her tale to Cassie? Anyway, she had plans. She was going to get Heather out of the house one way or another so she and Jason could ...

But then again, Jason did have his own plans the day before. Nothing said Melinda couldn't do the same thing. Maybe it would serve him right. See how he liked it if she didn't consult him about this.

She smiled at Cassie. "Yes, I can meet you after school. Where do you live?" Melinda stopped, and her smile faded. "Oh, wait ... you live at ..."

"The mansion on the mesa, yes. But I can come to your house."

"Ok, sure thing. We'll talk. You ... you can tell me about your dreams. I want to hear about them."

"Maybe after you tell me what happened to you," Cassie said with a grin. She paused a moment, looking thoughtful and slightly dreamy. "You know ... I wonder ..."

"Er ... wonder what?" Melinda asked tentatively.

"I wonder if ... if anything that happened to you matches what I dreamed about while I was overseas. It was the oddest thing, Melinda. I saw four teens and ... a strange house ... and now that I think of it ... one of them might have been you ..."

Melinda was too nonplussed to reply.

Cassie smiled. "I have to head to class. See you later, Melinda. And ... thank you."

"Thank ... for what?"

"For being a friend. That really means a lot to me right now."

Melinda managed a small smile as Cassie headed past her and down the hallway.

The sting of the antiseptic against the cut helped jolt Jason's mind out of the fog within which it threatened to lose itself. It did little for his heightened sense of arousal. His cock remained rock hard, now starting to ache badly. Worse, the fabric of his briefs was stretched tightly across the underside of his shaft, and the smallest movements stimulated him.

He barely felt the time pass. Soon the cut no longer stung, and Nyssa was gently cleaning the wound. She dabbed at it almost lovingly with a soft cloth, her other hand draped loosely over his forearm. Her hand did not remain still; her fingers traced gentle, sensual swirls against his skin, making him quiver in renewed desire.

And there were the eyes.

As disturbing and cool as they were, Jason was drawn to them again and again. Each time he was, it was as if the miasma around her retreated, obligingly fading so that he could gaze upon her beauty unencumbered.

Yet each time, Jason was able to shift his gaze to the side and see the darkness again. It would again cause a tendril of fear to snake up his spine and pull him back to reality.

"That's looking so much better now," Nyssa cooed softly.

Jason managed a small smile. Nyssa returned it with a sultry curl of her ruby lips. She withdrew the cloth and took his hand in hers. Her other hand slid up his arm, just brushing the light fuzz of hair rather than touching the skin.

Jason swallowed, his breath turning to a light pant. He didn't bother trying to get up from the edge of the examination table where he sat, for he was not at all sure that his legs would hold him at that moment.

Nyssa lifted his hand to her face and bestowed a slow, soft kiss upon it. The light brush of her wet lips against his skin was like a little electric shock. He shuddered, an odd ripple of pleasure passing through him, making his cock rise as if being touched directly.

The darkness. He had to focus on the darkness. She was in league with it, with whatever was coming to Haven. If it were not already here. He had to remember this and warn the others.

This was not normal. He had to repeat that to himself. Nyssa was sexy, there was no doubt about that, but no woman should be having this strong an effect on him. Not even Heather, back in the days when he had been infatuated with her, had elicited this powerful a response from him.

"Does it hurt any more, Jason?" asked in a low, sultry voice. She squeezed his hand and drew it close again. When she spoke next, he felt her breath hot against his fingers. "Shall I tend to you some more? Or perhaps you need some comforting."

Nyssa took a half-step closer to him. She slid one foot forward until her bare thigh touched the side of his leg. She kept her eyes fixed on him, bright and unyielding.

Jason's heart raced. His erection was almost painful. He forced himself to take a deep breath. "I-I'm fine," he croaked, his voice strained. "It's much better. Thank you. I should go back to ... to ..."

Nyssa's hand had risen from his arm and now cradled the side of his face.

"By the way, Jason ... has anyone ever told you what perfectly lovely eyes you have?"

Jason was so stunned by this statement that he froze. It was all Nyssa needed.

She leaned in closer to him, sliding her body between his legs, forcing him to part them wider. His briefs and jeans stretched more tightly around his cock, drawing a soft moan from him. His eyes slid over hers and could not draw off again.

Nyssa's hand stroked his cheek. "Yes ... very lovely, Jason ... I adore looking into them ..."

Her voice was all at once breathy, sultry, and sweet. Jason stared, all his senses riveted on Nyssa, his body trembling with the need for release. Her eyes filled his vision, and for the moment they became his world, a world of icy expanses and hot, aching lust.

Around her, the darkness retreated from his perception. It drew back from her and faded, becoming wispy and ethereal, more dream than reality.

"The eyes are such an interesting part of someone, Jason," Nyssa purred. "So very interesting. I find them the most attractive thing about someone. And yours, Jason, are very ... very ... sexy ..."

Jason was panting hard. As the darkness withdrew, it grew increasingly difficult to hold onto the conviction of his mission. He barely could keep his mind on what his mission was. He desperately wanted Nyssa to touch him, to send him over, to make him cum. He felt on the very ragged edge, his cock straining just short of final release.

Just a single touch with her finger. Just a single caress against the bulge in his crotch. Just a little closer, until her body snuggled against his. He would explode into such pleasure that he knew would be more intense and more blissful than anything he had ever experienced in his life.

Nyssa held his eyes, his mind feeling as if on the precipice of a glacial crevasse, yet never taking the final plunge into the icy, dark depths. He remained hovering just outside, as if purposely being held at arm's length. He was both relieved and frustrated.

"I do hope I have made a good impression on you, Jason," Nyssa said, her voice growing less husky. "After all ... first impressions are often lasting ones. I am sure that is what you were thinking when you were ... forced to come see me."

Very slowly, Nyssa drew back from him. The chill that suffused him eased. He blinked a few times, though keeping his gaze unwaveringly on hers. His breathing slowed. The massive hardness in his crotch eased.

"And if it helps, Jason ... you made a most wonderful impression on me."

Jason automatically smiled at this, and when Nyssa drew back another step, his mind snapped completely back to reality.

He blinked rapidly and drew in a tiny gasp. He managed to shift his eyes from hers, his body feeling drained and weak. His gaze darted quickly, and then confusingly, over Nyssa's outline.

Nyssa grinned. "Is something the matter, Jason?"

Jason opened his mouth, and then closed it again without uttering a sound.

He didn't understand it. He was sure he had seen it! A thick, black cloud surrounding her, trying to form shapes. Yet now ... now there was nothing. She was simply Nyssa Neris, the school nurse.

"Are you still in pain?"

"Huh? Pain? I ... uh ... " He looked down at his finger. Where the cut had been was now a thin, crusted line. He barely felt it. He looked up again and stared for a few long moments before finally speaking again. "No, uh, it's fine. Um ... thank you."

Nyssa smiled and took his hand again, helping him from the examination table. Jason felt a small tingle at her touch, but not as powerfully as before. Now he was increasingly mystified as to what had happened.

He looked at her again. Once again, there was no aura.

Nyssa turned from him. "Here, you'll need this ..." She reached into a pocket on her uniform and withdrew a small yellow slip. "An excuse form to explain your lateness to homeroom."

"Oh, um, sure. Thanks." He took the form from her. "Er ... I guess I better get going to class then."

Nyssa smiled. "I'm sure I'll see you again, when it's your turn to be examined."

"Examined? Oh, yeah. Well, see you later."

Jason wandered out.

Nyssa watched him go. When she heard him exit the reception area in the next room, her smile widened and she let go a small sigh of relief.

She considered herself very fortunate. She had found the Sensitive right away. If he had not come to her now, she may never have known, and he would have possibly caught on to what she was doing. They were so rare. Barely one out of a million were born with the ability.

Yet one was enough to unravel her plans. Thus she knew the signs. She had spotted it in Jason the moment she had laid eyes upon him.

Nyssa was quite pleased with herself. Dealing with a Sensitive was tricky. She could not push him too hard. She could not invade his thoughts as she did Laura's, or as Laura had done to Sandra. And most of all, she could not touch him sexually. Any of those things would have slaved some part of him to her, and he would gain the taint of Darkness himself. The next time he looked at himself in the mirror, he would know what had happened.

So she used her passive abilities instead, and took advantage of the one weakness of the Sensitive. Direct eye contact nullified the perception of Darkness. Prolonged eye contact made the effect linger.

It would not last forever. Nyssa would have to renew it now and then. But that was all right. It would last long enough for her to get to a point where she would be unstoppable.

And ... she was truly fascinated with this boy. There was something about him that excited her.

Nyssa would leave this boy for last. Jason would be the very last person she would "examine." Yet when that time came, she had something else in mind for him. She was sure it would be okay. Surely her benefactor would not begrudge her one small trinket when she left this place.

Surely it would allow her to take just one as her own slave.

"Nothing? Nothing at all?" demanded Heather incredulously.

"Nothing," Jason replied tonelessly. "I saw nothing."

"Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?"

Jason sighed. "I've already explained this. I thought I had seen something at first, but I was nervous enough it might have been my imagination. But after that, I didn't see anything."

"Thank God," Melinda gushed in a quavering voice. "Jason ... thank you for doing this."

"I don't get it," Richie said, frowning.

The others turned to him. All four were standing near the entrance to the auditorium as students streamed past in either direction, hurrying off to first class, the start of which was only minutes away.

"What don't you get?" Jason asked patiently.

"Well, if the nurse is okay, then what's what my mom? What's with Bendon and what she did to her?"

"Maybe she didn't do anything to your mom," Melinda piped. "Maybe you just exaggerated."

"I did not!" Richie wailed. "I didn't lie about this! That crazy shit really happened!"

"The fact of the matter, Richie, is that I didn't see anything," said Jason. He paused a moment. "Well ... I didn't see an aura anyway."

Heather looked at him anxiously. "What is it?"

Jason paused again, his cheeks coloring. "Well ... the nurse ... Miss Neris is, uh, rather attractive."

Richie looked at him, his concern momentarily forgotten. "She is?"

Jason nodded.

Richie smirked. "Is she hot?"

Melinda rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly!"

Jason grinned slightly. "Actually, yeah, she is. Very."

"Jason ... she didn't do anything to you, did she?" Heather asked.

Jason looked at her. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Heather did not know how to respond. She could not put it into words.

"You're not still having some funny feeling, are you?" Melinda asked. Her tone was partially sarcastic, but there was an undertone of concern to it as well.

"Yeah, I am."

"But Jason said the nurse was okay!"

"I know. It still doesn't make the feeling go away."

"But you can't even tell us what that means."

"No, I can't. Deal with it, runt."

Melinda bit back a retort. She was desperate for someone to tell her that everything was going to be okay. Now that someone had, Heather was trying to cast doubt on it again.

"Look, all I know is what I saw," Jason said. "Or didn't see in this case."

"You said you thought you saw it at first."

"Yes, but I made a mistake. Otherwise it wouldn't have just vanished like that."

"Unless she made it vanish somehow. Or you did."

"Oh, come off it!" Richie cried. "You're just makin' this up to ...!"

"Richie, you remember me telling Melinda that I can make it go away around my mom? There is a way to do it, I just haven't figured out how yet!"

"Look, I can settle this, okay?" Jason said hotly. "I was not trying to avoid seeing it. In fact, I tried everything I could to see it. But when I left her, she was just a nurse."

"A really hot nurse," Richie said with a smirk.

Melinda rolled her eyes. "So you gonna ask her out, too, huh? Thought Miss Davis was the love of your life."

"That's it! Melinda, I'm fucking sick of ..."

"Your witty rejoinder can wait until later, Mr. Gardner."

Richie's mouth snapped shut as he turned. Mr. Seeger loomed over him.

He scowled at the four of them. "Why are none of you in class?"

The others glanced around and only noticed now that the hallway was nearly empty. The clock had already ticked one minute past the hour.

Each of the four made a sheepish noise and headed off in a different direction. Mr. Seeger caught Richie's arm and stopped him.

"Yes, Mr. Seeger, what may I do to brighten your day?" Richie said in as obsequious a voice as possible.

Mr. Seeger's face darkened. "One more word out of line, Mr. Gardner, and you will break the school record for earliest detention." He paused. "A record, I should add, that was set by you."

"It's good to be known for something, Mr. Seeger," Richie said in a voice of exaggerated politeness.

Mr. Seeger sighed. "Your attempt at polite discourse is somehow worse than your vulgarity. Get to class, Mr. Gardner, and let's not have this talk again, shall we?"

Richie flashed him an impish grin. "Anything you say, Mr. Seeger."

As he walked away, he sang "saggy-saggy-seeger" under his breath. Mr. Seeger, who caught part of it, simply sighed, shook his head sadly, and turned away. He soothed himself with thoughts of his rapidly approaching retirement.

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.