Miss Mayhem

The rest of the day dragged along. It was the same thing throughout all of my seven classes. I'm introduced to the class, whispers go around, and first impressions are made. I didn't make an effort to impress anyone, though. I did just what I needed: tell them my name, that I just moved from Hoboken, New Jersey, my favorite color is green, and that my favorite subject was art. It was the same speech, seven times that day, and then I was allowed to sit where I wanted. Some of the students made small talk, while most of them avoided me. In the middle of the school year, everyone already had their cliques and groups of friends.

I didn't mind all that much, though, I had my own problems to worry about. Terrence bit my leg all through third period, and unzipped my backpack multiple times, causing everything to fall out again. This time, there was no C.J. to help me pick up the mess.

The day finally came to an end, and I met Molly Marie halfway home. She nearly tackled me in a hug, ruffling my already frizzy hair. A laugh escapes me, and she loops an arm through mine, pulling me along so that we were moving again.

"So, did you make any friends?"

Trying not to sound too hesitant, I shrug. "Not really.''

Molly pouts childishly. "No boys? Not even one?"

My face instantly feel ten times warmer, and it must show quite vividly, because she's grinning widely.

"Did you talk to him?"

I recounted my first meeting with C.J., and had to quiet her multiple times whenever she would try to interrupt. She got quite excited, though the spark died down a good bit when I added that he didn't attend the high school. She shook her head, mumbling about how much of a shame it was, and I could only roll my eyes. It wasn't like something was going to happen in the first place.

We walked past a graveyard, one I didn't notice on the way to school, and paused, pulling Molly Marie back with me to take a look. I stood in front of the large metal gates, which were tangled with vines that spread over the brick walls on either side. The yard itself was deserted, and looked as if fog covered the place, giving it an eerie look. I took a step, but was yanked back, almost forgetting my best friend's presence.

"You need to get home," Molly reminded me seriously, then proceeding to drag me back home. I let her ramble on about whatever was on her mind, adding absentminded comments here and there. But I was thinking about how that graveyard... something seemed off about it, something I felt I should know. But nothing came to mind, it was just some spooky old place that dead people were buried. Right?

Home. These places -- the houses that I hopped to and from -- I couldn't call them that. No particular reason comes to mind, it's just that home always seemed to be meant for living in, not staying until the residents got sick of me. I stepped up the three white steps of the porch, hesitating before I pulled the door open.

It was as if there was a bell hanging around my neck, because no sooner than I stepped foot inside the house, Lauren was two inches from my face. She let out a nervous breath, suddenly stepping away with an apologetic expression. She wrung her hands together, smiling hopefully. And suddenly, I felt bad for her -- she and Seth were such a young couple. They didn't need a teenager like me getting them off to a bad start.

"Hey, how was school?"

I shrug, walking past the raven-haired woman in silence. My school bag is slung over the back of a chair in the kitchen, and I slink into the chair, laying my head on the table. Although I didn't do very much today, I feel as if I'd been running for twenty hours.

Lauren sat across from my, hesitant, and finally spoke up. "Oh, by the way," she paused to clear her throat, and with a sigh, I sat up straight, meeting her eye. "...could we try something tonight?"

I rose a brow. "Try what?"

She lowers her gaze, turning her attention to the napkin twisted between an awkward set of hands. "I have a ouija board. I wanted to see if..."

My eyes widen, and I perk up, leaning forwards with my stomach now pressed to the table. "You want to see if this is for real. I-if... me? If I'm not actually crazy?"

A smile appeared on Lauren's lips, and she looked up at me again, nodding once. "I think it's worth a shot, don't you?"

I can't describe the feeling that grips me now. No one has wanted to try and find out for themselves before, much less have I ever been housed with someone who believed in... well, apparently, whatever Lauren and quite possibly Seth believe in. Whether they believe in spirits, or demons, or ghosts, whatever -- altogether it seems rather promising. I'm speechless, but somehow I manage to sound my agreement.

However, Lauren insists that we wait for Seth to come home before any sort of action takes place. I find myself glancing out the window often as six o'clock nears.