Daddy Death

Chapter 11

“She left us dad!”

“She was scared. She witnessed two deaths.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little coincidental? Maybe she did kill them.”

“Michael!”

I’m not one to be discreet, so I don’t pretend not to have heard as I wander into the kitchen. Mike has the grace to look guilty, but I’m oddly proud that he suspects me. Yeah, I don’t know why either.

“Water?” I ask. Mike hands me a glass that was on the table. I smile and take a glug, softening my throat.

“Hailey.” I look up, unused to the name. “I’ve enrolled you in school. You’ll start on Monday.” I choke on the water.

“You’re kidding right?” I have horrible visions of people in armor attacking me during biology, of battling evil in algebra.  

“You did go to school while you were missing.” He looks a little unsure. I nod, not wanting to expand on the truancy issue.

            I point at my midsection. “I was stabbed. Do you think I want to go to Calculus? Besides, everyone will act strangely around me.”

            “And whose fault is that?” I’m sorry Hailey, but you’re going to school and that’s final.

            I cross my arms. “You can’t make me.”

            I sit glowering out the window as we pull up in front of the school. Clearwater High is printed in large blue letters over the entrance. I would have been punishing George for this, but the coward got someone else to drive me to school.

            Next-door neighbor, crush’s older brother, diner boy, and the brother of the boy I killed. Also known as Caleb.

            “Why are you driving me again?” I ask, feeling like a child being carpooled around.

            “Because you can’t drive, your dad is busy, and you can’t take the bus.” He deadpans. “It’s just school. You won’t die.”

            “Wanna bet?” I mutter.

            “What?”

            “Nothing, you don’t have to come in, I know the way.” I force a smile and a thank you before climbing out of the car in borrowed clothes (although they’ll do) and a black backpack.

            Kids stream in the front entrance. It’s chilly, so only a few smokers are loitering outside. The rebels, they probably think they’re so hardcore. Smelling bad and dying of cancer is so in these days. Thankfully no one notices me as I slip in with them and make my way to the office.

            “Hi. Hello. EXCUSE ME!” I finally yell at the secretary. She’s middle aged with winged glasses.

            “Oh, hello honey. What’s your name?” She has a pencil tucked behind one ear and a picture of children on her desk. I decide that I like her.

            “Hailey Reid.” She looks surprised and does a double take.

            “My, haven’t you grown up.” She takes in my nose ring and short black hair with minimal distaste. “Here’s your schedule. I expect you know your way around, but you can always ask someone if you forget.” I nod and smile and say thank you. Then the schedule is in my bag and I’m making my way to the back parking lot.

            I only make it ten yards when I’m intercepted.

            “I can’t let you leave cuz, sorry.” It’s Morpheus.