Status: hiatus
Soul Searching
Startled
“How’s the Murder House treating you?” Marcia smirks, taking a sip of her water.
Anastacia shrugs, adjusting her white lace top. “Um… not haunting, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“I’m surprised. It’s only a matter of time, though,” she flips her bleach blonde hair. “And I better be the first one to know about it, okay? Because we’re friends now and that’s what friends do.”
The younger blonde nods, “sure.”
Marcia leans onto the table slightly, “I’m serious, Stacie. I wanna know if anything happens.”
Looking up from her paper, Anastacia sighs. “Why?”
“That shit’s cool. I’d wanna see it, now… gimme those definitions.”
Anastacia throws her hands up lightly, “I wasn’t even done.”
“Like I care,” Marcia scoffs.
“And the whole… ‘haunted house’ stuff isn’t cool, Marcia.”
The older blonde looks up from copying her teammates work and smirks, “what? Do ghosts scare you, or something?”
Anastacia shrugs, not answering.
“They do, don’t they?” Marcia drops her pen.
“I never said that,” Anastacia shakes her head.
Marcia smirks, “but you didn’t answer.”
Rolling her eyes, Anastacia runs her right hand through her hair, jumping when her shin is kicked under the table.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Marcia growls. “I gave you that spot on Varsity, and I’ll take it away.”
When the cheerleading captain goes back to copying her work, Anastacia crosses her right leg over her left and gently rubs her denim covered shin.
“Just in time for dinner.”
Anastacia looks up from wiping her feet when she hears her mother’s voice, “you’re still home.”
“I’ve gotta go to work as soon as dinner’s over, but yes,” Danielle nods, carrying a bowl of salad into the dining room, “I’m still home.”
Anastacia drops her bag by the door, following her mother into the dining room and sliding into her chair, “how late are you working today?”
“I’m supposed to get off around ten in the morning, but we’ll see,” Danielle says, serving herself some salad.
Nodding, Anastacia takes a drink of her water.
“How was school?” Danielle asks, taking a bite of her salad and watching her daughter serve herself.
Anastacia nods, “it was okay.”
“And practice went well?” She inquires, scrolling the screen of her iPhone as she takes another bite of salad.
“Yeah,” Anastacia nods, “we’re working on a new routine. So, it’s interesting.”
“That’s good. Interesting’s good.”
Anastacia nods, taking a piece of baked chicken off of a plate setting in between them. Cutting into the chicken, she puts a small bite into her mouth. “How’s work been?”
“It’s been good. Super busy.”
“I can imagine,” she nods, watching her mother type on the screen with a single finger. “Where’s Moira?”
“It’s Friday. She’s off, remember?”
Anastacia nods, “I forgot.”
“She’ll be back when you wake up in the morning,” Danielle says, taking another bite of salad. “Do you have any plans tonight?”
Shaking her head, Anastacia takes another bite of chicken. “No. I’m just gonna take a shower and maybe watch a movie.”
“Okay, that sounds good. I’m gonna have to get outta here soon, so, like, don’t answer the door or anything, okay?”
Anastacia nods, “you know I don’t, Mom.”
“I know, I’m just saying.” Danielle locks her phone screen, “I don’t think anyone will show up, but you never know.”
The young woman nods, taking the last bite of chicken.
“Alright, can you get this stuff for me? I’m running late,” Danielle says, standing up.
“Yeah, I got it.”
“You’re a good girl,” Danielle kisses her daughter’s head; “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Anastacia sits in the same spot, listening as the front door closes and locks. She listens when her mother’s Mercedes pulls out of the driveway and leaves.
Reluctantly, she collects the dishes off of the table and carries them into the kitchen. She opens the dishwasher and begins rinsing the dishes and placing them in the racks of the dishwasher where they belong. She stands up straight and turns around when hinges creak, “hello?”
A set of hands grab her waist and a voice speaks directly into her ear before she can process what is happening, “boo!”
The scream is purely instinct, as she turns around and shoves the tall figure back. “Goddamn it, Tate! Do you think that’s funny?”
He smiles, “that was funny.”
“No, it wasn’t. You knew that would scare me.”
Smiling, he nods. “It worked.”
Anastacia rolls her eyes, turning back to the sink.
“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad.”
Saying nothing, she continues to put dishes in the dishwasher.
“You’re not talking to me now?” Tate asks.
With a shrug, Anastacia closes the dishwasher. “How’d you even get in here?”
“Side door was unlocked. I locked it on my way in, though.”
Anastacia crosses her arms.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she says, exiting the kitchen.
Tate follows, “stop.”
She doesn’t listen, continuing to climb the stairs.
“Don’t be mad at me,” Tate says quickly, moving in front of Anastacia to stop her from walking any further toward the second half of the staircase. His hands find her face, forcing her to look up at him. “Please don’t be mad.”
She blinks quickly, “I-I’m not mad. I’m not mad at you, Tate.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” she whispers.
Anastacia shrugs, adjusting her white lace top. “Um… not haunting, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“I’m surprised. It’s only a matter of time, though,” she flips her bleach blonde hair. “And I better be the first one to know about it, okay? Because we’re friends now and that’s what friends do.”
The younger blonde nods, “sure.”
Marcia leans onto the table slightly, “I’m serious, Stacie. I wanna know if anything happens.”
Looking up from her paper, Anastacia sighs. “Why?”
“That shit’s cool. I’d wanna see it, now… gimme those definitions.”
Anastacia throws her hands up lightly, “I wasn’t even done.”
“Like I care,” Marcia scoffs.
“And the whole… ‘haunted house’ stuff isn’t cool, Marcia.”
The older blonde looks up from copying her teammates work and smirks, “what? Do ghosts scare you, or something?”
Anastacia shrugs, not answering.
“They do, don’t they?” Marcia drops her pen.
“I never said that,” Anastacia shakes her head.
Marcia smirks, “but you didn’t answer.”
Rolling her eyes, Anastacia runs her right hand through her hair, jumping when her shin is kicked under the table.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Marcia growls. “I gave you that spot on Varsity, and I’ll take it away.”
When the cheerleading captain goes back to copying her work, Anastacia crosses her right leg over her left and gently rubs her denim covered shin.
“Just in time for dinner.”
Anastacia looks up from wiping her feet when she hears her mother’s voice, “you’re still home.”
“I’ve gotta go to work as soon as dinner’s over, but yes,” Danielle nods, carrying a bowl of salad into the dining room, “I’m still home.”
Anastacia drops her bag by the door, following her mother into the dining room and sliding into her chair, “how late are you working today?”
“I’m supposed to get off around ten in the morning, but we’ll see,” Danielle says, serving herself some salad.
Nodding, Anastacia takes a drink of her water.
“How was school?” Danielle asks, taking a bite of her salad and watching her daughter serve herself.
Anastacia nods, “it was okay.”
“And practice went well?” She inquires, scrolling the screen of her iPhone as she takes another bite of salad.
“Yeah,” Anastacia nods, “we’re working on a new routine. So, it’s interesting.”
“That’s good. Interesting’s good.”
Anastacia nods, taking a piece of baked chicken off of a plate setting in between them. Cutting into the chicken, she puts a small bite into her mouth. “How’s work been?”
“It’s been good. Super busy.”
“I can imagine,” she nods, watching her mother type on the screen with a single finger. “Where’s Moira?”
“It’s Friday. She’s off, remember?”
Anastacia nods, “I forgot.”
“She’ll be back when you wake up in the morning,” Danielle says, taking another bite of salad. “Do you have any plans tonight?”
Shaking her head, Anastacia takes another bite of chicken. “No. I’m just gonna take a shower and maybe watch a movie.”
“Okay, that sounds good. I’m gonna have to get outta here soon, so, like, don’t answer the door or anything, okay?”
Anastacia nods, “you know I don’t, Mom.”
“I know, I’m just saying.” Danielle locks her phone screen, “I don’t think anyone will show up, but you never know.”
The young woman nods, taking the last bite of chicken.
“Alright, can you get this stuff for me? I’m running late,” Danielle says, standing up.
“Yeah, I got it.”
“You’re a good girl,” Danielle kisses her daughter’s head; “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Anastacia sits in the same spot, listening as the front door closes and locks. She listens when her mother’s Mercedes pulls out of the driveway and leaves.
Reluctantly, she collects the dishes off of the table and carries them into the kitchen. She opens the dishwasher and begins rinsing the dishes and placing them in the racks of the dishwasher where they belong. She stands up straight and turns around when hinges creak, “hello?”
A set of hands grab her waist and a voice speaks directly into her ear before she can process what is happening, “boo!”
The scream is purely instinct, as she turns around and shoves the tall figure back. “Goddamn it, Tate! Do you think that’s funny?”
He smiles, “that was funny.”
“No, it wasn’t. You knew that would scare me.”
Smiling, he nods. “It worked.”
Anastacia rolls her eyes, turning back to the sink.
“C’mon, it wasn’t that bad.”
Saying nothing, she continues to put dishes in the dishwasher.
“You’re not talking to me now?” Tate asks.
With a shrug, Anastacia closes the dishwasher. “How’d you even get in here?”
“Side door was unlocked. I locked it on my way in, though.”
Anastacia crosses her arms.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she says, exiting the kitchen.
Tate follows, “stop.”
She doesn’t listen, continuing to climb the stairs.
“Don’t be mad at me,” Tate says quickly, moving in front of Anastacia to stop her from walking any further toward the second half of the staircase. His hands find her face, forcing her to look up at him. “Please don’t be mad.”
She blinks quickly, “I-I’m not mad. I’m not mad at you, Tate.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” she whispers.
♠ ♠ ♠
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