The Phantom of Scranton Hill

23

Her phone rang.

"Hello?" Justine answered. The caller ID showed Charlotte's name, but they were to see each other in less than an hour.

"Justine?" Charlotte asked, a tint of anxiety in her tone as if she knew something that no one else did. Her voice remained shaky as she continued to talk lowly. "I, uh... I don't feel too good about tonight," she confessed. Justine could hear Charlotte bite the tips of her nails from nervousness. "You don't have to go, you know. We could always stay home and watch a movie or something."

"Chaz, are you okay?" Justine asked, though she immediately knew that it was the wrong question. Charlotte played the 'I'm fine' game, but Justine had more important things to worry about than a slight feeling. "I think it would be good for me to put myself out there," Justine declared what she was afraid to do during the last half year.

Charlotte knew not to argue. Justine was as stubborn as the next, but more determined than anyone. It was an obvious trait of hers. "All right. Just...Do me a favor and be careful, okay?"

"I'm sure everything will be fine." Justine had to convince herself of that last part. She was referring to the Dax situation and Charlotte was aware, but Charlotte had her own expectations for tonight.

"Alright. Say hi to Chase for me," Charlotte responded, her voice once again peppy and excited. After laughing, Justine hung up and uneasiness draped over her like a blanket.

Almost too quickly, the day of Fall Formal had arrived, or the night, rather. The minds of Justine and Charlotte had been elsewhere for the last week. They were running out of time, and a silly dance wasn't going to be first priority. They were definitely not regular teenage girls, they knew that much.

It was Friday the Twelfth of October, exactly six months from the day Daxius had died. Justine was freaking out internally. She had until six o'clock tonight to save him and she had no idea what to do. And Dax wasn't helping. In fact, he seemed to be the most apathetic regardless of his life being the one at stake.

Justine hadn't seen or talked to him in three weeks, since that night in her bedroom. And as far as she knew, he hadn't made an attempt to see Charlotte either, hadn't passed any messages. Justine was beyond the stage of worry. Today was the day he would disappear forever. But for some reason, she felt as though she was forgetting about another event. A voice ticked at the back of her brain, racking for an answer, but she couldn't remember; it couldn't be that important.

She stood in front of the mirror hinged on the closet door, spinning in her dress and testing her balance in her silver, open-toed stiletto heels. Justine's golden brown locks remained down, but as delicate curls that sat on each of her shoulders, her dark eyelashes long and thick with black mascara and lips full and red. Though her makeup was light and natural, no crater lay in sight.

"Maybe he already found his purpose," muttered Justine as she pulled the dress over her chest, tightening the elastic band in the back to make sure it wouldn't fall down halfway through the dance.

That would be a night to remember, she thought as a sly smile crept onto her lips, if my dress fell down in the center of a gym.

"I guess I was silly for hoping it had anything to do with me," she admitted, her smile flipping within seconds. "There's almost eight billion people in the world and I'm just a single soul. He could be in China for all I know," she exasperated.

Justine smiled sadly at the transformation and sat down on her bed, careful to scare away any wrinkles or dust as she slowly laid on the soft mattress, her eyes shut.

"China is a little bit of a stretch. Maybe Canada at the furthest," a familiar voice boomed through the room, the tone surprisingly playful and energetic.