CHAPTER TWO
Alpine High School was a fairly unremarkable, large, two-story brick building with a decently sized football field, though the baseball and soccer field didn’t even have bleachers next to them. I wasn’t sure if it was because sports just weren’t that big here, or if football was more important to these people than any other sport. The parking lot was fairly large and had filled most of the way, which told me that most of the students came from rich families.
Since my parents had already stopped by the high school and junior high the day before to sign all the paperwork required to enroll Arvin and myself, all we had to do was see the councilor about what classes we could sign up for and we’d be set. Unfortunately once I found the councilors office I realized I was going to be there for a while. Though I had arrived twenty minutes before the first class began, the school district started the school year later here than the one in San Francisco and Alpine High had only been having classes for a week, so the cutoff date for dropping and signing up for classes hadn’t passed yet. The office was filled with students waiting to make their case as to why they need to drop from algebra honors to regular algebra, or how their physical education class should be waived this year due to some club or sport they were in last year or other nonsense like that.
The bell rang and the secretary announced to everyone in the waiting area that they had to go to class. I got up off the chair I was waiting in and stood at the counter, trying to catch the secretary’s attention. She shot me an annoyed look and said, “Everyone needs to go to class. No exceptions, no excuses. You can come in during lunch to try and change your classes.”
Wow. Touchy, much? “Sorry, it’s just that I don’t have a class to go to. My family just moved here and I need to sign up for classes.”
She looked at me suspiciously. “Do you have a parent with you? I need a parent or guardian signature for some of the paperwork before we can get you enrolled.”
“They already came in yesterday and took care of all that. I just need to sign up for classes.”
“And your parents don’t care what classes you take? They’re just going to let you sign up for whatever?”
“They believe in self-reliance. Responsibility. All that stuff. If I sign up for classes I don’t like or that are too hard or too easy, it’s my problem to take care of.”
She gave an approving nod and asked for my name to look up what had already been filed. Since my parents had done this so many times, they hadn’t missed anything. She let the councilor I needed to meet with know I was there and within a few minutes I was sitting in his office. It took a little bit of time to figure out how to fit all the classes I wanted together, but in the end I only had one class I was a little dissatisfied with, and even then it was only a semester-long class.
The bell alerting the end of first period rang as I was signing some papers back at the secretary’s desk while she printed off my official schedule and got a map of the school for me. I signed the last paper and my gaze wandered over to the hallway. The front walls to the offices were mostly panes of thick glass, leaving an unobstructed view of the students shuffling from one class to the next. I wasn’t looking for anyone, not really, but when someone walks by with grey and white streaks against black hair it’s kind of hard to miss.
I couldn’t believe it. Not only was he – the guy I had seen the night before - real, but he was in high school. My high school. He was dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans and carried a navy blue backpack. He looked completely normal, hairstyle aside. I never would have guessed that he was fighting monsters the night before had I not seen it myself.
He had noticed me staring at him, by the way. It was odd – it was as though he could feel me looking at him as he walked by, because he stopped walking abruptly and looked straight at me. The look on his face went from shock, to concern, to anger. He narrowed his eyes at me, much like he did the night before, then turned around and disappeared into the crowd of teens.
“Here’s your map and class list, if you hurry up you’ll be to class on time. It’s on the second level, halfway down the first hallway on the right.” The secretary shooed me out of the offices and I wandered to my second period class. I took my time getting there, hoping to catch a glimpse of the boy again. I wasn’t sure as to what end I was working toward… if I had a chance to talk to him, what would I say? If I couldn't think of anything to say, should I just pretend that he didn’t exist? No, that would drive me crazy, not getting answers about what I had seen. So how do I start that particular conversation? “Hey, so I was just wondering – what were those monsters you killed and how’d you learn to fight them? You know, for future reference. In case I run into whatever those were, seeing as how they apparently visit my back yard.”
I got to my class just barely on time. I found my way easily enough, but I took the extra minute I had to wander the hall to find the black and white-haired boy. I got a lot of stares as I rushed through the hallways and peered into classrooms – I was pretty hard to miss to begin with, with my long, dark auburn hair that flared bright red when the light hit it at a certain angle, but I’m sure I looked downright crazy with my almost-running through the halls and sticking my head into each classroom as I went. It was the same deal with my next two classes; I came in right before the starting bell rang and chose a seat next to the door so I could leave as soon as the dismissal bell rang. Sure, it seemed like a bad idea since the first day is ‘key’ to forging new friendships in a new school, especially since I caught more than one curious glance as I sat down, but I found that the people who stuck with you were the ones that waited a few days to introduce themselves. Not the shy people, just the people that liked to get a feel for the kind of person you are first before jumping in and trying to force a friendship that may not work out. I did the same thing with everyone else. After the sixth move my family made after I started school I had figured that out for myself and stopped with the self-pitying attitude of ‘I need as many friends at possible to validate myself as a human being of worth’.
Discouraged that he was apparently nowhere to be found, I slowly walked to the lunch room after the fourth period dismissal bell rang. I dawdled, waiting for the lunchroom to calm down to find a table that hadn’t been called for. Only one week into the school year and I knew that all the groups of friends and cliques would claim their tables and corners of the lunch room. I almost couldn't find an empty table - once the crowd had settled down there were only two empty ones, and even then one was quickly occupied by a girl who was probably saving the table for a bunch of her friends.
I sat down and started in on my lunch, when suddenly he was sitting across the table from me. I didn’t see him come over, sit down, anything. One minute I was chewing on my sandwich and zoning out and the next moment he was sitting in front of me, still inexplicably angry.
“What are you.” It wasn’t a question, not really. I wasn’t sure I heard it right, either. Did he ask who I was or did he actually say what? “You recognized me today. From last night. You shouldn’t have remembered last night. Humans wouldn’t have withstood the memory wipe. So again. What are you.” He was leaning very close to me and talking very quickly and quietly.
I swallowed and leaned close to him. I could play this game, if he wanted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a plain ol’ boring human. And if this is how our first conversation is going to go, I suppose I could ask you the same question. What are you, and what are the things you killed last night.”
He wasn’t too happy with that. “What’s your name.”
“Makenna Reyvens. I’d let you call me Kenna if I liked you. What’s your name.”
He never answered, instead standing up and looking down at me menacingly. I stared up at him with what I hoped was defiance or stubbornness.
“Watch your back. I’m not the only one that’ll take notice of what you can do.” With that,
he turned around and left. I didn’t watch him leave. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. I waited at least five minutes before even moving again. When I was sure he had to have left the lunchroom, I turned around to check for the all clear. I didn’t see him. I slumped down in my chair and started doing deep breathing exercises. I was shaking all over and needed to calm down before moving on. I had tried so hard to maintain a sense of being calm and cool while that guy was confronting me, but truth be told I was terrified of him because I knew he was capable of killing. I also managed to find room to be rather angry from how rude he was - I’m not used to people getting in my face like that, and I was already scared of him to begin with.
Lunch was already halfway over. I tried eating my sandwich quickly, suddenly starving from the little adrenaline rush I had experienced. I had just barely gotten another bite in when I noticed a couple of girls and a guy creeping towards my table. I swallowed and smiled.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I was still shaking a little, but I was able to feign cheerfulness well enough.
“Are you okay?” The shorter chick asked.
“Umm… yes… why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s just that… Jack doesn’t talk to anybody. Ever. Well, he talks to some people, but it’s very rare and mostly he talks to the Goth freaks. Well, they come to him. He never approaches anyone himself. And I’ve never seen him look so angry, either. You looked pretty freaked out once he left. We just… wanna make sure that he didn’t hurt you or anything.”
Jack, huh? I was surprised that apparently I was "privileged" enough to be approached by this guy. I smiled and shrugged.
“Whatever. I think we live in the same neighborhood or something. He was just saying hi.”
“That was a very angry looking hello.”
“Well, I can handle myself when the situation calls for it. Thanks for your concern, though.” I smiled and hoped that I still didn’t look angry about that particular exchange. Apparently it worked, since the three sat down across from me.
The shorter chick introduced herself as Jennie, and the other two who hadn’t had a chance to talk yet finally spoke up and introduced themselves as Dani and Nate. I introduced myself and we seemed to get along pretty well, though I had my doubts since I did have my one-week rule of thumb for making friends. Through talking with them I found out that Jennie and Nate had the same class I did fifth period, and that Dani had sixth period with me.
“I should let you know, though, that Jack has sixth period with us, so be on your toes when you get there, ‘kay?” Dani warned. “I don’t know what his deal is, but I’m always weirded out by guys that don’t talk to anyone. You never know when they’re just gonna go nuts.”
“I doubt he’s going to suddenly snap one day,” replied Nate. “He just showed up in the middle of the year last year and hasn’t bothered to really do anything. I mean, he’s in all the honors and AP classes, so he’s super smart and does well on tests, but I’ve tried forming a study group with him and it really doesn’t work. I think he just wants to be left alone until he graduates and then leave as soon as possible. Heck, I wanna get out of here as soon as I graduate.” Jennie playfully hit him at that. He smiled and laughed. “What? Who grows up dreaming of living in Colorado?”
The bell rang and I followed Nate and Jennie to our next class, which was Chemistry. I sat behind Jennie and watched her and Nate flirt the whole class period. I didn’t mind that they were ignoring me; I was pretty sure that they were just being nice and that they weren’t really trying to make friends, but it was still nice to feel like I wasn’t just trying to settle into any seat that was available.
When the fifth period dismissal bell rang I went straight to my last class, this time anxious to beat Jack there. I’m not sure what the purpose would be; maybe I felt that if I was already there I’d have the upper hand over… whatever was going on between us.
I didn’t beat him there, but he wasn’t in a position to interact with me anyway. He did glance at me as I walked into the classroom, but there was another girl already talking to him.
She looked like a slut, and for whatever reason it made me very angry.
She had long blonde hair that she let fall in her face, and it looked pretty greasy. Groomed, but greasy, like she hadn’t washed if for days. She was wearing skinny black jeans, high heels, and a long-sleeved dark purple shirt with a corset-style bodice. The shirt was low-cut, but there was a sheer material that covered her chest up to her neck. There were rings on almost every single finger, and her nails were painted a dark purple to match her shirt. What really got to me was her makeup. It wasn’t sloppily applied, but there was so much of it. Dark eye shadow, bold lipstick, and foundation applied so thick it could probably be peeled off to make a death mask.
It looked like she was flirting with Jack, but from his posture I could tell that he was only just barely putting up with it. As I continued to glance at the scene while I was finding my seat I realized there was something off about the way she was talking to him. While I couldn’t tell what she was saying, it looked like she was flirting with him because she knew it bothered him. And he definitely didn’t do anything to dissuade her. He just looked straight ahead with his jaw clenched and let her chat away.
So what about this scene made me so upset? My parents had always told us not to judge based off of appearances. Hey, I had even left some really good friends behind in San Francisco that had a more extreme sense of style. But then again, girls don’t dress like that and attempt to maintain the “I’m so innocent and pure” personality.
As I glanced at her every few seconds I realized that it wasn’t the way she was dressed that bothered me so much as it was the way she held herself. Like she knew that she was better than everyone else and wasn’t afraid to act like it, and that she could dress the way she did and no one would bother her about the message it gave; that she could harass Jack – who originally gave me the impression that no one got the better of him – and he wouldn’t say anything to stick up for himself. Though I wasn’t fond of Jack, I was even less fond of this girl.
I sat down next to Dani and we talked until the bell rang. She was much more interested in getting to know me than Jennie and Nate were, and I was surprised to find myself interested in finding out more about her, too. She told me that there was no gymnastics team anywhere close to the town, but that she and a few other girls, most of whom had taken gymnastics as kids, had formed a modern dance club when she was a freshman and were always looking for more people to join them each year. It wasn’t competitive, but it was pretty physically demanding, so they still got that buzz from pushing themselves to their limits. It sounded interesting, even though I had a hard time envisioning myself wearing a tutu, and gave a half-hearted promise that I’d check it out.
The rest of my day was pretty uninteresting. Jack had no apparent desire to confront me again, I wanted to go straight home to catch up on the classes I was behind on so I wasn’t struggling for the rest of the school year, everyone was home on time for dinner – which was pleasant – we watched the same movie we always watched to inaugurate the new house every time we moved, and I went to my room to read until I was tired enough to fall asleep.
I couldn’t fall asleep, though. I had gone through the motions of the day, but my mind was somewhere else completely. I looked at my clock. It was midnight here, but it would be eleven p.m. in San Francisco. It was still pretty late, but I was positive that Daisy, my best friend before I left, would still be up. She was a night owl and I never knew her to even think of going to bed before midnight. She knew that once I left I would move on and make new friends, but she was really cool about it and let me know that she’d always be there for me to bother whenever I got bored. I pulled out my phone and texted her:
Hey. The city hasn’t set on fire since I left, has it?
She replied within a minute. Ha.
No. It’s gotten a lot more boring, though.
Pity. I could use some boring right now.
Ooh, that sounds ominous. What’s going on?
You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.
Try me!
I’ll tell you later, once I figure out what’s going on for myself. It’s pretty freaky, though. And I’ve only been here a couple days and someone already hates me.
You’re lying. You can be pretty abrasive sometimes, but that’s part of your charm. No one HATES you.
Well, apparently this one guy does. I’m not sure what to make of him. He freaked out at me and wouldn’t even tell me his name when I asked him.
Why’d he freak out at you?
That’s part of the weirdness that’s going on.
You really aren’t going to tell me?
Not now. Later, I promise. Sorry to bother you. I wanted to get things straightened out in my head and I can’t even talk about it.
No prob. Is there anything I CAN help you out with?
I don’t think so. Thanks anyway. ‘Night.
Okay. Well, lemme know when you get everything sorted out. ‘Night.
I lay awake for another half hour, feeling my face getting red from embarrassment. Why did I think I could talk to anyone about this? No one would believe me. Still, Daisy was cool. Even if I couldn’t talk to her about what happened, she’d probably have opinions about the subject. I got my phone out again.
What would you do if you found out zombies existed?
That should be a fairly straightforward question without cluing in to my situation, right? This time it took five minutes for Daisy to respond.
Did you move into a neighborhood infested with zombies? Is that the weirdness going on?
Yep! That’s exactly it! How’d you guess? I felt bad for making it sound like I was joking around, but I didn’t want her to freak out. Or sound like I was a complete nutjob.
Well, I’d have to say to make sure to keep a crowbar on you at all times. They’re great melee weapons and are good tools to boot.
Lol. Thanks. I tried to leave that pretty closed so she wouldn’t respond. She told me everything that I needed to know – mainly that she didn’t believe in monsters. That she wouldn’t take me seriously when I brought up the topic.
I got out of bed and went to my desk. I pulled out a piece of origami paper and a felt tipped pen and started drawing on the non-patterned side. Whenever I had a lot on my mind I found sketching designs helped me settle down. They were never anything specific – usually geometric shapes interlocking with each other with swirls or knotted patterned designs filling the empty spaces. I always drew on the back of origami paper so I could fold it up and string it to a line of other pieces I had done. I found comfort and balance in seeing my wild thoughts folded up in a crisp, complex design, and placed with my other wild thoughts. About once a year or so I took this string and burned it. It wasn’t to symbolically get rid of these thoughts; it was actually to bind them together. To me the flames were not destructive, but instead brought unity to all these thoughts and the figures I assigned them to. After all, everything was reduced to ash by the time the flames burned out. There was never a designated time of year to do this, either. It was always at a time of year when I felt I had overcome a particularly difficult trial, or when I felt I was moving on and growing up. While my parents were pretty new age, this was a ritual I did all on my own.
It took three hours for me to finish this particular piece; two and a half hours to do the drawing and a half hour to fold it up. I needed to be especially careful with folding this one; not only did I crave crisp, clean lines, but I felt like folding a dragon, which was a more challenging fold.
As I hung it up, it stuck out from the other origami I had finished over the last few months. Normally I did something simple and real, like a crane or boat or flower. I rarely ever did mythological creatures, and the last time I did this particular dragon was the second time my family moved when I was in fourth grade. It was a particularly difficult time for me, mostly because I could tell my parents were especially distressed about something. When you’re that age your parents still mean the world to you, so when they’re worried it feels like the world is about to end.
I finally felt sleepy and turned off my desk lamp. I made the mistake of glancing out my window as I crossed my room to go to bed.
This time there were ghosts in the graveyard.
No, really – there were about half a dozen figures in the middle of the cemetery that were faintly glowing, were definitely not solid, but were definitely human looking. I crouched down so that only the top of my head would be visible, not wanting to get noticed again by more freaky beings.
They just… stood and talked. For about fifteen minutes I watched as they chatted and gesticulated at each other. From what I could make out, they weren’t arguing, but they were definitely talking about something they were passionate about. They finished their conversation, smiled and shook hands with each other (a couple of them hugged), and disappeared. There was no trace of them being there, and as I waited, there was no sign of them coming back. I crawled in to bed, now completely mentally exhausted. I had just finished putting all my thoughts in order, come to terms with what I had witnessed the night before, and now this had to happen. I fell asleep quickly, giving up on trying to figure it out until I got more sleep.
The next morning unfolded much like the day before had. I hit my snooze button a couple of times, was late for breakfast, Dad and Terra made a big deal about it, and I was left alone with Mom and Dad again.
“Do you guys believe in ghosts?” I asked suddenly. This time they definitely gave each other a worried look.
“Have you been able to fall asleep, Kenna? Does the time change bother you?” Dad asked. “It could be that you’ll need to take some melatonin before going to bed for a while.”
“It’s only an hour difference, dad. I was just wondering what your personal feelings were concerning ghosts. Do you believe in them, or do you believe it’s a bunch of crap?”
He waved his hand, as though to make my question unimportant. “I believe that humans have souls, but what they want to do with them is their prerogative. Anyway, we’ll get your lunch ready for you if you want so you can get to school on time. It looks like you only ate half of what you packed yesterday anyway, so it’s no big deal.”
I made it to school on time, though just barely. To my pleasant surprise, Dani was in my first period class, so I had someone to sit with, which was comforting. I didn’t see Jack except for a glimpse of him at lunch and then during sixth period. He frequently shot me these bizarre, menacing glances during class, but disappeared as soon as the bell rang.
I had to admit, Stevens Ridge was definitely leaving its impression on me. Zombies, ghosts, and some maniac monster fighter that hated my guts for no apparent reason all in my first week.
It was a shame that this impression wasn’t a good one.
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