The Path in the Woods

Chapter One

I hate dressing up for school projects. I yank my skirt down as I walk up the stairs to the second floor. I'm always so paranoid that someone can see up it whenever I go upstairs. Luckily there is no one behind me today.

I greet everyone I see as I walk down the hall. It's my habit I guess. I'm by no means a popular girl, but I do know most everyone in my grade. A few of them tell me they are coming to see my play this weekend. I'm starring in "The Phantom of the Opera" as Christine (my dream role). I tell everyone to come and take a picture with me.

I catch up with Marge a few feet from my class. She isn't wearing her presentation clothes which leads me to ask her, "Did you forget?"
"Did I forget about what?" She asks.
"The presentation today."
She smacks her head. "Shoot. Do you have any extra clothes?"
"I don't think so. You can run down to my car and take a look though," I reply, offering my keys.
"It's fine. I don't care enough," she sighs.
"Your grade," I respond.
She just shrugs.

"Hey, Marge! Hey Lacey!" My friend, Tyler, greets us.
"Hi, Ty," we reply in unison.
"Are you stopping by my party tomorrow?" He asks us.
"Can't." I tell him as I take my seat. "I open tomorrow."
"Oh right that stupid play thing," he nods.
"It's not stupid!" I protest.
"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Lace."
"It's not," I mumble.
"That reminds me, aren't you and that weird theater kid dating?" He probes.
"Gotta be more specific. There is a lot of weird theater kids."
"The main guy," he says as if that was all the clarification I needed.
"There are two, Ty. Are you talking about Jeff or Holland?"
"Holland," he answers.
"Holland and I are just friends."
"Oh, okay. That's why you're smiling?"

It was true. I did have a wide smile on my face. The truth was, I did have a crush on Holland but we weren't dating yet. He plays Ralph. Fortunately, the teacher comes and starts class before Tyler could further interrogate me.

•••

Finally, the end of the day comes. I get ready for dress rehearsals in the theater room. The girls all were gossiping about a multitude of things I had little interest in. Some even questioned me about Holland which I could successfully evade until mic check.

"Hey," Holland greets me. "Need help?" He gestures to my mic pack.
"Do you really want to stick your hands down my shirts in order to clip it to my bra?" I ask.
"What-no! I- didn't mean it like that! I swear," he stammers as a red rash colors his ears.
"It's fine," I laugh. "I don't mind if you don't. Just don't get handsy!" I warn.
He quickly clips the pack to my bra strap, being very gently not to accidentally touch the skin of my back.
"Thanks," I tell him.
"No problem."

I caught a couple of people in the cast whispering to each other, no doubt about us. But I didn't care. I pity them if their lives are so boring they have to make up one for me. That means they are even more boring than me, and believe me, I'm as remarkable as a beige wall.

The director tells us places, so we all go set up behind the curtain.
"Are you nervous?" Jeff breaths in my ear as we head to our spots.
"No." I say, slinking away from him. He was always good at making me uncomfortable. I couldn't tell if it was his normal personality or if he was going method for his part as Phantom.
"Are you going to sing for me my sweet angel?" He asks.
"Jeff, don't you have someone else to annoy?"
"Nope. I'm all yours."
"Yippee," I grumble.

Since it's a musical, techs run later than normal plays. It gives me ample time to spend with Holland. But also Jeff. Me and Holland come up with inside jokes, while Jeff just stands there and watches us.
"This is the best chemistry I have seen between you all yet!" The director, Mr. Delaney, shouts praise towards the end of rehearsal. I contribute it to the backstage antics.
After rehearsals, Holland asks if I want to grab dinner with him.
"I dunno, it's kinda late," I tell him.
"But you haven't eaten since lunch," he says.
"Breakfast, actually," I correct him.
"Even more of a reason to come get dinner with me!" He argues.
"Fine. Where?" I cave.
"Waffle House?"
"Ew, no."
"Fine. Wendy's?"
"Yum," I smirk.
"You driving?"
"I can't see at night," I say.
"Then how do you plan on getting home?" He asks indignantly.
"I live half a mile from here. I think I can manage a few feet."
"Then why do you even drive to school?"
"Because I can't walk home alone at night! I'm a female. Bad things happen to females who do anything alone," I defend.
"Not here though. We live in a safe community."
"Everywhere is safe until it isn't," I tell him.
"You watch too much Criminal Minds," He says. "Fine, I'll drive too. You're so high maintenance, you know that?"
"Well I'm an actress," I say theatrically.
He rolls his eyes. "You better be paying."
"You're the one who invited me out!" I teasingly protest.
"God, you're not just high maintenance. You're a full on diva," he mocks.
"Yeah," I murmur. "But you still like me."
"I shouldn't though," he says.
"But you do."
"Come on before it gets even later."

After dinner he drops me off at my car (he did pay for me in case you're wondering).
"That was nice," I say.
"Yeah. It was," Holland agrees.
"Well, goodnight," I bade him.
"Aren't you supposed to kiss me goodbye?" He jokingly asks.
I respond by giving him a peck on the cheek. "Happy?" I giggle.
"You have just made my week, Lacey Kingsley."
"Well I'm happy to hear it."
"Night. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Not unless something happens to me."
"Like what? You get in a car wreck because you can't drive at night and yet here we are?"
"Or crime," I reminded him.
He rolls his eyes again. "Yeah, okay, Wacko."
"Hey, it's a Wacko that made your week."
He shakes his head. "Yeah," he snorts. "Goodbye." He sings as he drives off.

It takes me a whole two minutes to drive home. As I pull in my driveway, I swear I could see a figure standing in my parking spot. It quickly darts out the way of my headlights and runs off before I could make out who it was. I quickly park my car, making sure to lock it (something I rarely do), and run inside.

You're just being paranoid, I tell myself as I lock my bedroom door. Maybe Holland is right. Maybe I should stop watching so much Criminal Minds. He was right about it being a pretty safe community, after all. Not once in my seventeen years of living here has anything remotely criminal happened.

I brush off the incident and prepare for bed. Perhaps it will just be a forgotten memory in the morning. Perhaps it was just my eyes playing tricks on me since it was late.