The Shooting Star Killer

chapter 1

Holly pulled on the collar of her baby blue shirt, letting the skin beneath it breathe. The sun had no mercy on the students, and Holly was no exception. Her assigned seat was in the front of the class at the end of her row, right next to the window. Most days Holly enjoyed this spot. She could look down from the second story of the school and see others, or look at the clouds when the boredom was just too much to bear. Sometimes, when the teacher opened the window, Holly would toss miscellaneous items out. On a good day, she could hear the surprised gasps of people being hit with erasers and pens.

Today, Holly really wished she hadn't texted through this class -- that was the reason the teacher moved her from the back to the front.

Mr. Archer, the teacher of this class, snapped his fingers several times, "C'mon class! It's a little toasty but logarithms won't graph themselves!" His mock cheer elicited an eye roll from Holly, who turned away from her teacher, folding her arms and resting her head. Holly closed her eyes, trying to imagine the heat away.

"Uh, yes, Walker," Mr. Archer called on Walker, who, Holly assumed, had had his hand up.

Holly didn't like Walker in the slightest. He was a kid, still in middle school, and here he was in her math class. She was 17, a junior in high school, and this 14 year-old with a backpack the size of himself was one of the best students in the class.

The idea of someone trying so hard in school made Holly cringe -- she had always managed to get by without really trying, though her grades certainly weren't worth bragging about. Unlike students like Walker, Holly valued nearly everything else above school.

"Sir, you haven't taught us how to graph logarithms yet," Walker said.

Without looking, Holly knew that Mr. Archer would be adjusting his big, wire-framed glasses, "Oh, is that so?" Mr. Archer asked.

The student next to Holly sighed loudly as Mr. Archer said, "Well then, I guess I'll just have to teach you!"

Yeah, I'm not really in the mood for that, Holly thought. Grabbing the plain black graphing spiral, Holly shoved it into her backpack. She hadn't even gotten her pencil or workbook out since class started forty minutes ago.

Running a clammy hand through her wavy blonde locks, Holly stood up. Shouldering the close to empty backpack, she sauntered out of the classroom, ignoring her teacher as he called out, "Leave, and you get detention!" He, of course, had no idea that she already had a detention for the following weekend.

One more detention and it's a suspension, Holly reminded herself. As Holly walked through the hallway, occasionally passing by a student, her shoulders slumped with boredom. Holly brought her nude hand up to her forehead and rubbed her temples. She didn't have any friends at this school, in part because of her attitude, but largely because of the rumors.

Holly knew what the other students were saying about her, and her small acts of defiance weren't helping clear her name.

Having moved from LA to the enormous town of Landrum, South Carolina, which had a grand total population of 2,625, Holly was already disliked and dubbed the 'city girl'. That she didn't deny; she missed the malls, the constant hustle energy, the city lights. She looked the part too: from ripped jean shorts to Nike and Adiada everything, Holly was the definition of a city girl.

If that was the only rumor, Holly could have easily replaced her wardrobe. No, the more impactful rumor was about why she moved. The theories ranged from plausible to down right insane.

One student said she moved because a family member died.

Another said it was because she was running from the law.

Other's said it was because she was expelled from all the schools in her area.

Some other student said she had been made by the government and sent to spy on young people to make sure loyalty was still strong.

Only one of the students was right.

Holly ran a hand against the exposed brick wall of the school building as she walked past classrooms. Bits of rock and dust fell away. This building is going down faster than London's bridge, Holly thought, then added, maybe that's not such a bad thing.

"Excuse me, do you have a hall pass?" Holly's blue eyes went from the wall to the woman speaking to her. Her skin was tanned and hair raven, contrasting her blue eyes. Her lips were pressed into a line, eyebrows low.

"Oh, I guess I forgot to grab one," Holly said, bringing her arms to her side. "Who are you?" She asked.

The girl held out a hand, "Sanaa al-Idreis. I'm running for student body president." She gave Holly a smile, showing off her teeth.

Ew, Holly thought, her pink lips curling back in disgust at the hand offered. "That's nice," Holly said, "but I'll wet myself before I make it back to class."

For a split second, Sanaa's smile faltered, but then returned at full power. She dropped her hand, "Sorry, but rules are rules. Plus, the bathrooms that way," Sanaa pointed in the opposite direction of where Holly was going. Just my luck, Holly thought.

"God, Sanaa, give her a break, she's new." Holly turned at the voice. A man with nearly platinum blonde hair walked towards the girls, his hands in his pockets, shoulders laid back. The pierced ears and black tank top that was a size too big made the man come off as a stereotypical 'bad boy', the kind Holly had first seen in Twilight. The kind Holly hated. Though, he was, without a doubt, her type -- gorgeous. Though his style and demeanor was less than desirable.

"New or not, the rules were explained to her just as they were every student," Sanaa countered, her eyes narrowing at the man. When he reached them, she took a step back, but kept her chin high and defiant.

The man held out a red lanyard with Fincklelard written in bold letters, "I came out here to bring her the pass. It was an honest mistake." He gave Sanaa a shrug, tossing the lanyard to Holly, who caught it with ease.

Holly's eyes looked between the two. They were opposites. Sanaa was clearly a great student, the type like Walker. Big aspirations, had things figured out, morally right, needed validation through school. Holly decided she didn't like Sanaa. The man, on the other hand, was clearly not a great student. Apathetic, rule breaking, probably liked to party, made people like Sanaa uncomfortable. Holly decided she liked him.

Sanaa looked at Holly, giving her an affirming nod, then walked away, avoiding looking at the man.

"She's so stuck up," the man said, watching her back as she walked away. He turned back to Holly. She opened her mouth, but he held up a hand, "Benji. You owe me now, Holly Lucius."

Holly's eyebrows rose as she crossed her arms. I take it back. I don't like him.

"I didn't ask for anything from you, Benji."

"Ah, maybe not, sweetheart," Benji moved closer to Holly, putting his lips close to her ear, "but you still owe me." He moved his head, just far enough so he could look at her face, then further so he could look at her body.

"Luckily for you, I know exactly how you can pay me back," Benji licked his lips, his eyes hovering on Holly's breasts. Without hesitation, Holly slapped Benji.

The slap echoed through the empty school. Benji's sapphire eyes were wide with shock, then relaxed.

"Well, I'll find some way to get what you owe me," Benji said, pulling a flask from his jacket and taking a long swing. The blonde man turned and walked away from Holly, giving her a backwards wave.

He may have the looks to be my type, but his perverted personality is unsettable.