When my Mom was alive, she made breakfast a grand affair of bacon, eggs, and made from scratch pancakes for the first day of school. She always called it my “good luck” breakfast. I tried not to miss it.
“Ready for your big day?” Dad asked with a sappy grin.
“You bet.” I replied with a forced smile. I took a set at the oversized kitchen table. “Can’t wait.”
Dad sat down across from me and sighed, “Just try to give it a chance. I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think.”
In an instant the rush of guilt flowed over me. He was trying so hard and I was acting like a spoiled brat. My Mom would be so disappointed in me.
“I’m sure it will be great.” I countered, really trying to sound cheerful. The effect sounded almost comical to my critical ears.
He smiled as if he believed my ruse, “That’s my girl.”
I choked down my breakfast while he leaned against an ancient white stove watching me. Shoving the last spoonful of my mushy feast into my mouth, I smiled as I stretched past him to put my bowl in the sink. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s nothing.” He replied in a tight voice. “I was just thinking of how much you look like your mother now.”
I didn’t mean to, but I flinched. I sensed her absence acutely and resented being reminded of it.
A suffocating silence fell between us until I stretched my face into a smile like I knew she would have wanted me to and gathered my things.
“Wish me luck.” I said as I walked toward the door, not waiting to see if he actually would.
The bright stillness of the morning met me when I stepped out on the porch. I walked down the drive to the sidewalk and looked around. The entire town seemed to still be sleeping; even the scant traffic was quiet as it passed.
It didn’t even seem real. Towns like this belonged in movies, the cheap dollar matinee kind featuring white faced zombies chasing buxom blondes. I didn’t know to be charmed or frightened.
I didn’t hurry. I just sort of walked along, looking at the old houses and trying to guess what the owners of them looked like or what they did for a living. For some reason I couldn’t get past the idea of a lot of duck hunting males married to a bunch of garden party ladies.
By the time I reached the corner I began to see a few kids near my age leaving their homes with books in hand. Even if Dad hadn’t gone over it a dozen times and put the map on my phone too, I didn’t have to worry about finding the school anymore.
I stayed about a block behind all of them though, just so they wouldn’t think I was following them, no point in calling attention to myself. I already hated being the new kid and not knowing where I was supposed to be or what I was supposed to be doing.
Corydon Central High School looked like a scaled down version of my old high school in Indianapolis. It had the same generic exterior that tried to look cheerful and welcoming, but came off the exact opposite, looking very institutional. There was more green here, with more shrubs and larger trees, but other than that they were very much alike.
Inside it was not much different either, the same overly bright lights, the same medicine-like school smell and the same ugly tile. Did all schools in America look and smell somewhat the same? I wondered if they bought paint and tile in bulk and then just shipped it to schools all across the country.
I glanced down at my class schedule; the blurry dot matrix print read that I should be in room one thirty-two for Science. While I searched for room numbers above doors, everyone else pushed past me, already knowing where they were going.
I felt flushed; the first fluttering of panic in my chest was trying to rise to the surface. I wanted it to already be evening and then this day would be nothing more than a story of mishaps I would be recounting to Dad over dinner.
The science room was easy enough to find, but I still stood in the hall and let the other students file in past me. They were all chattering about what they did over the summer.
I saw the seats in the back of the class filling up quickly, so I went on in and claimed one of the lab tables in the second to last row. It was easier not to draw attention to myself towards the back of the room. I just sort of blended in as the rest of the class wandered in and took seats.
Science was never my favorite subject, I knew within minutes my opinion wasn’t going to change. Geometry was next and it promised to be just as boring as it was in Indianapolis. At least no one seemed to notice me. I wasn’t sure if everyone was still half asleep or if I really was that insignificant, but I knew my luck was bound to run out soon.
Another bell, another class. This time English and I felt somewhat better as I took a seat again near the back, pretty sure I would just get lost in the mix again.
That feeling of comfort disappeared when a lanky brown haired girl took the desk in front of me and turned in the seat as soon as she sat down. “I don’t know you.”
It wasn’t a question, more of just an announcement of a fact.
“Hi,” I said with a nervous smile. “I’m Becca McAllister.”
“I’m Ally Lentz,” she said without a smile. “And I don’t know you.”
Now I was really unsure how to respond, but she sat there staring at me as if she expected an answer of some sort.
“I just moved here.” I volunteered.
I didn’t have to say anything else. Ally began telling me all about Corydon Central. I couldn’t even begin to keep up with everything that she was saying; something about concerts downtown, a park somewhere, and football games. I was actually grateful when the bell rang and the teacher began the class.
Mrs. Temple, a chunky woman with chalk smudges across her skirt hips, went on and on about the great American writers. She never mentioned any of them by name, but promised we would learn all about them by the end of the year.
I was saved when the bell rang. I barely had time to glance at my schedule before Ally was blocking my path, peering down at my schedule, and trying to read it upside-down.
“What do you have next?” She asked, squinting to decipher the blurry type.
“Lunch.”
“Oh, so do I.” She said with a big smile. “Come on, I’ll show you where the cafeteria and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
The way she said “everyone” made me think she meant just that. Her energy was a little overwhelming, but I was happy she was there. I had been dreading lunch all day. Nothing could be worse than sitting at an empty table alone while everyone stared.
It was obvious Ally did mean everyone. As we walked to the cafeteria, she said hello to every person that passed and made super quick introductions. She didn’t slow her pace; she waved to them, pointed to me, and said what she had to say and went on.
“Hey, this is Becca, she just moved here.” She’d call out even if people only then stepping into earshot. “Becca, this is John, Caitlyn, and Shelby.”
It seemed everyone liked her. It also seemed there were no cliques at Corydon Central. I said as much to Ally which really made her laugh.
“No,” she replied with a chuckle. “We don’t really have cliques here. Everyone knows everybody else. It’s hard to act superior when we’ve all seen each other eating mud pies and peeing in our pants back in preschool.”
Stepping into the cafeteria, Ally waved to a blonde girl sitting at one end of a full table. The girl motioned us over with a welcoming smile. Was everybody here so friendly?
“You must be Becca.” She said as soon as I sat down. “I’m Billie.”
I was shocked she knew me and a little intimidated by how pretty she was in a girl-next-door-model-without-make-up sort of way. “Have we had a class together?”
“No, but everyone is talking about you.” She said with another flash over white teeth.
“Oh.” I blushed; suddenly very aware of how loud my paper lunch bag sounded as I opened it. I glanced around the cafeteria to see if everyone was staring or if it just felt like they were.
The
tables were noisy with kids calling out to each other and laughing loudly. A few would look in my direction and smile, but no one was really staring
Everyone seemed friendly enough, smiling when they met my eyes. All the kids except a small group across the room at a small table in the corner. My previous experience in my old school told me that they were probably the cheerleaders and the jocks since I had yet to hear of a school where those two groups didn’t cling together away from everyone else.
“I see you noticed the cheerleading sheep.” Billie said with a toss of her head toward the girls. “That’s Ashley Richardson and her minions.”
I had no doubt which one was Ashley. The blond in the center of the group was obviously the leader, all of the other girls at that table looked up at her with an idolizing expression.
I turned to Ally, confused. “I thought you said there weren’t really cliques here.”
Ally took a bite of a banana and chewed before answering. “There isn’t. Ashley acts like she’s better than all of us, but we just ignore her, the only people that really worship her are the other cheerleaders. You know how that is.”
I nodded. “We had a group like that at my old school.”
“Where is your old school?” Billie asked as she took a bite of a rectangle slice of pizza.
“Indianapolis.”
Ally narrowed her eyes, “What did you do to end up here?”
“My Dad grew up here.” I explained, repeating the exact things I practiced the night before for this very moment. “After my Mom died, he moved us back here.”
Billie stopped chewing, “Sorry about your mom. How’d she die?”
“Car accident two years ago.” I said, keeping it as brief as possible.
“I’m sorry.” Ally said and then as if she sensed my reluctance to talk about it, changed the subject. “So, do you like the house?”
I shrugged, “It’s different.”
“A lot of people live in old houses around here.” Ally offered.
“This town is full to the rim with historical locations and ghost stories.” Billie said with a smirk.
Ally clapped her hands together, “That’s a perfect idea!”
“What?”
“We should have a séance at your house.” Ally explained. “Those old houses on Capitol Avenue are always fun to do it in.”
Séances were a sleepover tradition back in Indianapolis, but it was one I never really got the opportunity to be a part of. I wasn’t sure I even bought into all that supernatural stuff.
“Do those ever really work?” I asked.
“You never know.” Billie answered with a shrug and a giggle. “But it beats doing nothing.”
They both seemed excited about the idea and Billie had a good point, what else was there to do?
“Do you want to try it tonight?” I asked.
Both girls smiled and agreed to meet me after school. I didn’t realize it was happening, but it seemed I was already falling into my own little group. All I had to do was take part in a silly little séance which might at most result in some squeaking floorboards and a good laugh.
I was sitting with my new friends, enjoying this quick acceptance, when I saw him. He was beautiful, tall, blonde, and muscular all at the same time. His face was tanned and handsome in the teenage heart throb sort of way, the sort of perfect that shouldn’t exist in high school.
“Who is that?” I asked my new friends.
Billie followed my eyes and then smiled when she saw who was the object of my attention. “That’s Jonah Ericson.”
“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Ally asked.
“Every girl in school is after him.” Billie added. “Even her Royal Highness Ashley.”
“But he doesn’t pay her a bit of attention.” Ally added with a giggle.
I watched him move through the cafeteria, waving to almost everyone. He seemed completely unaware of how amazingly good looking he was. How was that even possible?
“All of us have had a crush on him at one time or another.” Billie confessed with a knowing smile.
Blushing, I turned away from his perfection and refused to meet her eyes. I was grateful when the bell rang and I could escape. I promised to meet them after school and gathered my books and schedule, feeling a little more confident even though neither was in my next class.
History was my next class and it was at the other end of the building. Now that I was getting used to how the room numbers ran, I found the class easily enough and slipped into another desk in the second to the last row. I was feeling pretty convinced that I could survive the day.
Desks around me filled up as students came in. I kept my eyes down and pretended to be intent on lining up the edges of my History book and my notebook perfectly. I looked up as someone took the seat in front of me. My breath caught when I recognized Jonah Ericson.
He must have heard me gasp. Turning slightly, he smiled at me with perfect white teeth. “Hey.”
I couldn’t say anything. I was too stunned by seeing his perfection up close. Was it possible he was even better looking close-up? I could only imagine what he thought of me staring at him open mouthed. It obviously made him uncomfortable because he turned back around without trying to make further conversation.
The bell rang and class began. Rather than paying attention to what historical milestones we would be learning that year, I wondered if Jonah Ericson was thinking the village of Corydon just found a new idiot.
The teacher droned on about the Civil War and other events lost in time. I spent the class staring at the tanned skin of Jonah Ericson’s neck. It looked strangely soft and vulnerable. If I leaned forward just a little, I could smell a trace of his cologne.
I tried to focus, but I kept getting distracted by his profile and the perfect way that his hair caught the afternoon sun in a golden halo. I was so very grateful when the bell rang and I could get out of there before I made a bigger fool of myself.
The rest of the day was a blur of more classes and more people that I didn’t know. I was grateful when the final bell rang and I was free.
I met Ally and Billie outside the school and moved them away from the school as quickly as possible. I was very aware of my own voice and wasn’t too sure what to do with my hands. I was ready to get away from there and relax a little.
“So,” Ally began as she bounced along the sidewalk. Her stride was some sort of cross between a skip and a walk. “We’re going to need some candles. Do you have some?”
“We have tons. My Mom was addicted to scented candles.” I bit my lip at the last part.
Billie saw my reaction and thankfully didn’t pause for sentiment. “Your Dad isn’t going to freak out over this, is he?”
I reassured her, “My Dad probably isn’t even home, or if he is, he’ll be leaving soon. He doesn’t hover.”
That seemed to please them both and Billie copied Ally’s happy prance. I had always envied girls with close female confidants. It was a luxury I had never really known even in my old school. There was just something about my personality that kept me from developing close friendships.
Because of that, I was in foreign territory as I opened my new home to my new friends. I had no idea what to say or do as we stood in the entry. Everything I was rehearsing in my mind sounded so stupid in my head I couldn’t say it.
My Mom always knew what to say and what to do. I wished she was there to help me out, or even my dad, but he left a note on the entry table about going to look at some antiques in some place called Milltown. I was all on my own and totally lost.
Billie looked around, totally unaware of my anxiety. She let out a long sigh, “Wow.”
I took a good look at the house, trying to imagine it through their eyes. The detailed moldings and spacious rooms were beautiful without being ostentatious. It was the first time I got the feeling not only was this my new home, but it was also the history I came from.
“Would you like a soda or something?” I asked, surprised by th
e confident tone in my voice.
Now it was them looking uncomfortable as they said no thank you and followed me up the staircase to my room. I tossed my books on my desk and plopped into the leather swivel chair. “Come on in.”
Ally came in and sat down cross legged on my bed and looked around. “What was your house in Indianapolis like?”
I laughed and spun in the chair, “Not like this. We lived in a townhouse.”
“This must have been a big change.” Billie stated as she stretched out on the floor.
“Not really. Our townhouse wasn’t small.”
“So are you rich or what?” Ally blurted out.
Spiritus, a Paranormal Romance (Spiritus Series, Book #1) Page 2
