Status: Active.

Andy

New Favorite Person.

“Don't take a breath, just twist your faces into fists
And start throwing punches and or taking hits
I don't wanna grow up.”
- Throwing Punches and Taking Hits - Elizabeth Grace


Lunch came and went easily, and with no sign of my favorite ghostly denizens. I searched the cafeteria seven times over with no luck, and finally retired into the ongoing conversations around the lunch table, trying to lose myself in their words.

Mark told us stories from his trip to Minnesota, and I told them about swimming in the ocean at midnight in California - leaving out major details such as who I was with, why, and how it felt to breathe water like oxygen, and feeling the fish from deep below the moonlight illuminated waters brush up against your legs, and the thick tangled reeds of seaweed and algae catching in your hair, decorating it like a mermaid crown.

“So what were you doing in California?” Elizabeth asks with a preoccupied expression as she pries open a bottle of water, wrentching her fingers around it for a solid seven seconds before Mark grabs it from her and pops the top of with ease. She frowns at the bottle when he slides it back across the table to her.

“Uh...” I hesitate, realizing that I have not told anyone here yet that I’d be leaving Pendant in a matter of weeks, that is, if my Dad does not get his job back.

“We were looking into a job for my Dad.” I admit, keeping the details vauge.

“Job?” She echoes in confusion, the meaning of my words have not set in yet. “Why in California? Why... Are you moving?”

I huff a frustrated sigh, “Maybe.” I murmur, “As of this morning, my Dad was temporarily re-hired to help with the flood damage. He’s an honor employee of almost eighteen years, they didn’t have much choice. With any luck, it’s a permanent fix. If not... He’s got a new job lined out in Berkeley, but I’m not too keen on moving there. I mean, Eva’s there, and it’s a nice change of scenery and all... But this is home. Pendant will always be my home.”

Mark and Elizabeth look at me, and frown a bit. "When are you due to leave, then?"

"Honestly? I'd guess by the end of May by the latest. Emergency funds only go so far, and if we have to set aside money for an apartment or something until the house sells, which takes a nice, low-blow cut out of things."

She doesn't know what to say, her face contorts a little in concentration, and she purses her lips as though she is about to speak, but then rethinks it over again and again until she falls silent.

"Do you have to go?" She finally asks.

"Yeah, I do."

"No, I mean, do you have to go?" She repeats her question with emphasis. "Couldn't you stay here, if you wanted to? You could move in with me and my parents, and you could finish up high school in a comfortable environment. High school and graduation are stressful enough without adding a whole new school and group of people to the mix in a whole new town with new surroundings."

"I know... It's taken me years to fit in here, I don't know if I'm ready to do that again." I smirk a little, then it falls away, and I poke at the artificial looking macaroni and cheese on my tray, swimming in a neon yellow sauce that looks closer to colored water than cheese. I occupy my attention on that briefly while I contemplate a reasonable response to her question.

"I don't know if my parents would be okay with that. My Dad's already giddy with all the schools and colleges California has to offered, and I'm sure my Mom is already ahead of the game and has already secretly enrolled me in some girls boarding school to keep me out of trouble."

"Does she really think violence has a gender?" Mark jokes, nudging Elizabeth's elbow, making her roll her eyes.

"And anyways, I don't know if I could personally be away from them for the rest of my school year. It's like you said, it's stressful. I need them more now than ever, but I am grateful for the offer, and I'll keep it in mind until I figure out where my eggs lie here."

I purse my lips thoughtfully, trying to actually name a few positive things about moving to California besides the change of scenery. You can get that anywhere you go. I need legitimate facts to sell me on moving to the state where nothing ever stands still and dreams go to die.

The bell rings before we can breach the topic any further, and we get up, clear our table, and walk to our next class. Elizabeth shares literature with me, so we navigate the busy halls together to the class room.

"Man," She breathes, "I can't believe you might be moving. Feels like it was mere months ago I rolled up in front of your house after moving here from Minnesota."

I laugh, I haven't thought of that memory in a long time. "I remember," I recall with a smile, "you pulled into my driveway with what remains the girliest bike I have ever seen in my life. Tassles, straw basket on the handlebars complete with ribbons and rainbows. Plus, the training wheels were a cute touch."

"You're one to talk, you rode that purple Bratz scooter around until you were fourteen."

"If the wheels hadn't completely dry-rotted off the rims, I might still be sporting the thing." I shrug, getting a mental image of myself carving a path of meyham through the streets of Pendant on a Bratz scooter intended for eight year-olds, with my green hair, church dresses, and my best ghost bud riding along on the tiny foot pad.

"I know you would." She snickers. "I remember you were in your front yard with your Dad when we met, and I simply asked you if you wanted to see my Barbies."

"I'm surprised I never got abducted as a child, so easily captivated by the promise of seeing a person made of plastic dressed in cloths."

The classroom is almost full by the time we shuffle inside, squeezing past one of the football players animatedly talking about a Youtube video they had seen the previous night, promising to forward the link to his fellow football friends.

We sit across the aisle from each other and maintain our conversation even though the teacher is sending us death glances, but because class hasn't technically commenced, he can't call us on it. He's not our normal English teacher, in fact, I don't recognize him at all.

"Alright students, let's begin. My name is Mr. Campbell, I'll be your substitute teacher for the remainder of the week." His voice is a shock, too. He has a heavy British accent that one wouldn't expect from his appearance. He's a bald, middle aged man with frameless glasses and a crisp teal polo over khaki jeans. He looks more fit to by a psychologist than a high school English teacher.

There are murmurs of concern around the room and a few quest question before one noisy boy in the back calls out "What happened to Mrs. Candler?"

"She's out sick, I'm afraid. Some terrible stomach bug. Hopefully she'll be feeling better better soon."

I hear one of the boys to my left, further back in the row snickering ot his friends, whispering "Cuz she's knocked up."

More cackles of muted laughter comes from their table before Mr. Campbell lifts his eyes from his desk to keenly scan the audience for the culprits. Without skipping a beat, he points a finger at them, "Perhaps you two ought to put as much effort into your attention span as you put into your insults." He snaps at them with a heavy aura of authority surrounding him.

I peek back at the two boys, and they're hanging their heads in embarrassment, the girls in the row next to them snickering because they got yelled at. Perhaps this lesson will be entertaining.

I press my lips into a thin line to keep from laughing myself. In the five minutes I've been sitting here, I've already learned that Mr. Campbell is a hardass who won't be taking shit from nobody and I do not want to end up in his path.

He turns towards the chalkboard and Elizabeth leans across the aisle enough to nudge my arm and nod towards him with a grin on her face and I grin back. Oh yeah, finally a teacher who won't let the jocks get away with everything just because their families are prestigious figures on the school board or some stupid shit that makes them special enough to get special treatment.

"Alright, let's start with roll call. Heather?"

"Here."

"Connor."

"Here."

"Asheen."

"Here." I reply, and he calls out for two of the football boys then Elizabeth. Then something wonderful happens that makes me want to grin so much I have to press the back of my hand against my lips to shut up.

"Reece?"

No one responds immediately.

"Reece?"

Some concerned murmuring follows and Mr. Campbell searches the room over and notices the empty chair by the jock's side of the classroom. Just as he's about to ask where he's gone, the classroom door opens and Reece walks in like he's on a nice hike on a summer evening, his walk slow, his look is calm and easy going, and of course this doesn't sit well with the new teacher.

"Reece?" He addresses him with narrowed eyes and Reece groans, whipping himself around, expecting to face Mrs. Candler so he can sweet talk his way out of detention with a cute excuse like that he was busy helping an old lady cross the road and just could not make it in time.

His face falls a little at the unexpected and unfamiliar face.

"Y-Yes?"

"Have a seat, and get comfortable. I don't tolerate ditchers and ones who run late for no good reason."

"Hey," Reece tries to defend himself, "I have a very good reason as to why I wasn't here on time."

"Oh yeah? I'd love to hear it."

"Coach held me late after basket ball practice."

"Really?" Mr. Campbell puts on a good show pretending to give a shit about Reece's fib.

He does something that Reece did not plan for, and did not expect. He pulls out one of those big event calendars, and tracks down the current day, tapping on it with his index finger. "Funny, because there is no basketball practice scheduled for today. Take a seat, you have after school detention."

He jumps right back into finishing roll call and officially starts class. If it wasn't bad enough that Reece had just been embarrassed in front of his loyal following, it was worse because he caught a glimpse of me in the middle row and his face grew a darker shade of red when he realizes that I, too, witnessed him getting his ass handed to him on a silver platter by our awesome new English teacher.