Blood of the Devil

Chapter 4 - The Ghost in the Grass

As Letha passed the bush, she fished her books out of it. Several teenagers gave her weird looks, so she smiled back, laughing when they grimaced and turned away. She stepped into the garden bed, squeezing behind the bush. The prickly leaves grabbed at her jeans, but she managed to sit, hidden from view by the flora. Pulling her iPod from her pocket, she buried the buds in her ears.

After a few minutes, a figure blocked out the sun. Squinting up, Letha was greeted by Mickey.

“Hello,” he said, “Letha.”

He seemed extremely proud that he knew her name.

“I had to ask around for someone willing enough to talk to me about you.”

Letha shut her eyes, drifting back into her music, “Good work Sherlock.”

Mickey sunk to his knees, cringing at the dirt, he bit into his sandwich. When the inside of her eyelids brightened, Letha peeked out and was outraged to find him still there. She pulled her earphones out angrily.

“What do you want?” she exclaimed, glaring at him.

He chewed slowly, swallowing, and then grinned, “Why’d you give me the finger when we met?”

“We didn’t meet,” Letha corrected in a growl, “You stared.”

Mickey laughed, “You started it.”

Neither of them spoke.

“I’m waiting,” Mickey cocked his head, still smiling.

“Keep waiting,” Letha snapped, closing her eyes again.

“Are you always this…” Mickey took another bite of his sandwich, “aggressive?”

Letha ignored him, replacing the buds. He tugged on the cord, pulling them out.

“What?”

He shrugged, “What’s your problem?”

Scowling, Letha cocked her head, “How long do you have?”

“Ok,” he smiled again, “what’s your problem with me?”

Letha cackled slightly, trailing off into a sigh, “You know, the world learned too little from Salem.”

Mickey’s mouth fell open, “Did you just make a reference to the Salem Witch trials?”

Letha added the bushes to 'places that had been ruined by this jerk'. She clambered to her feet, stepping over him to leave. As she left, Mickey jumped up, following her out. Their peers stared at them , whispering to each other. A boy grabbed his arm.

“Mickey,” he said, jerking his thumb at Letha, “She’s not the type of person you hang out with.”

“Who is ‘you’?” Mickey asked.

Letha had stopped, crossing her arms and smiling in satisfaction at the pair.

“Everyone, dude,” the boy was frowning, obviously confused, “I mean, she’s a bitch. I heard she pulverised a kid at her last school.”

Mickey shook his head, “If everybody knows not to hang out with her, then how does someone know what happened at her last school?”

Letha took a step forward, “Don’t worry,” she smiled, “it’s true.”

“You,” Mickey said, pointing to her face, “need to do that more often. Though perhaps for a different reason.”

Throwing her hands in the air, she stormed off. Letha navigated the crowds, though everyone parted before her, so the only thing she had to do was stomp. Mickey thanked the boy, but clattered down the corridors in her wake. She turned into the science section of the school, sweeping past the labs.