Zemblanity [DRAFT 1] [COMPLETED]

ONE

a/n: i feel like this'll def have to be revised lmao, im never satisfied w my first chapters.

My head swims with chatter and laughter and waves of funneling and collapsing colors from the diazepam, the hallway noises creating a muffled blanket around me and my drooping eyelids and twitching hands, one clutching the strap of my bookbag, the other a deadweight that threatens to throw me off-balance and stumbling against the wall.

The fluorescent science lab lights spill out of the poster-covered door in front of me. The people leaning against walls or huddled in groups come into focus but appear far away, detached from the pocket of space surrounding me, almost ghost-like. The floor seems a million miles down.

I spot April standing with Sadie and two girls I don't recognize, both talking while looking at their phones. April notices me and throws a knowing look in my direction.

Yeah, yeah. You're a lifesaver and all that. I already know she expects me to do her dishes for the next week for the free diazepam.

Sadie follows April's gaze and waves.

I raise my arm halfway to wave back, then turn and almost slam into a girl that I didn't see approaching, head tilted, chewing her lip impatiently.

"Dani. Can we talk?"

My mouth is desert dry and a slight throbbing has blossomed in my temple, so nod, trying to blink myself into the moment.

She glances around, giving me time to place a name on the face. High cheekbones, eyes the color of a worn dollar bill, and a birthmark on her chin that could also be an old scar. Francesca Something. Hendrix. Henley, maybe.

"I think we should go somewhere else."

I turn and read the wall clock behind us. "I have class in two minutes. What do you need?"

"It's about Madeline." She scans the hallway again, like we're doing something we're not supposed to be, and shifts her weight from foot to foot.

"Just tell me." I throw the clock another glance, and notice April's eyes glued to me, ignoring the blue-haired girl on her right talking inches from her ear. I shrug at her, then turn to Francesca. What would she know about Madeline?

"I haven't talked to anyone else yet. The police wouldn't believe me- okay, I don't know who would believe me, but I know you've been following your own leads and I felt like you should know-"

"Get to the point." I massage my temple with two fingers.

"Madeline's dead," she blurts. "I think someone killed her-"

I take a step back. "What? Are you high? They haven't found a body yet."

"She's dead, Dani, she wanted you to know that, so you could stop..." she makes a vague gesture, like all the metaphorical red-string connected leads are plastered to my hoodie.

"How the hell would you know that? Did one of the detectives tell you they found something?"

"Madeline told me," she insists. "It was brief, and she was talking fast-"

People have begun to stare, failing to be subtle with their eavesdropping, now that Francesca is talking louder. Madeline's name is a curiosity magnet. Some of them start to laugh. At her, right? This isn't the first time she's claimed to be able to communicate with the dead if that rumor is true.

It's a prank. She's messing with me. Payback for something Madeline said to her, or about her, or God knows what, since Madeline loved trespassing into the underground of lives that weren't hers.