Sage sat on her bed, knees tucked under her and face set in concentration. She spent most of her time holed up in her room ever since her "brilliant" plan. It seemed brilliant at the time, and maybe it was, but time was running out. But at least it was something.
She turned the page of the blue-bounded journal.
Her bedroom window was open wide. The bad weather had disappeared with the Reapers, and it left the weather in a state of confusion, along with the local residents. The predicted early winter had disappeared completely.
If Sage closed her eyes, she could almost believe it was summer again. Summer was that time of year when the days lazed by and time stood still. It was the time of year when nothing bad ever seemed to happen. But the tranquillity of her thoughts were interrupted by thumping on the stairs.
Nathan.
He must be upset, Sage thought. She desperately wanted to believe that he hadn't killed Evie, but there was a part of her that doubted. She hated that part. She wished it was summer, when Evelyn was alive and Sage's world hadn't been turned upside down. She longed for the warm summer days where her biggest worry was freshman year.
The gentle shush of the shower grew in the background.
A breeze drifted in the room from outside, fluttering the pages of the forgotten journal on her lap. Looking back, Sage would wonder if the breeze was simply that: a breeze. Or was it fate? Either way, the pages opened up to a diagram.
Sage's eyes scanned over it, and her heart rate steadily increased with excitement. There it was: her answer.
"Nathan!"
|<>|
Blake drove Nathan to his house after school on Wednesday to pick up the things needed for the haunted house. They heaved giant mirrors into the back of his truck and secured it with rope.
"Don't want to get seven years of bad luck," Blake joked.
They fished out old, rusted chains from a garage behind Blake's house and a broken T.V. Nate wasn't exactly sure how all of that would work for the haunted house, but he didn't mention anything. Junk was piled high in the back; the broken leg of a chair stuck out from the mass.
He just wanted to get the volunteering over with. Nate had been bubbling up with pent up anxiety ever since Sage told him she knew what to do. A part of him wanted to know, but the other part- the one that feared the truth- wanted to prolong the moment as much as possible. He didn't know what he would do if he turned out to be-
Halloween was a week away, and somehow Nathan felt like it marked something. He constantly felt a clock ticking down in his mind, whispering incomprehensible things about the future.
"So how are things between you and Sandra?"
Nathan looked up from where he had been picking at the cracked leather of his chair.
"You guys seem.... I don't know. But it's obvious she likes you."
Nate focused on the scent of Blake's truck; it smelled like leather and warm days with the faintest hint of oil and mint. So familiar- unchanging. Unlike them.
"Yeah. I know." He meant to say more, but the words died as soon as they touched his lips.
"I know. I get it." Blake worked the clutch of the truck and stared intently out the windshield. Gushy feeling stuff wasn't comfortable with any of them. "But eventually you have to move on. I'm not saying you have to now. God, it's only been a little over a month."
The rest of the ride was quiet, both guys lost in thought and a little uncomfortable. Eventually, the counseling center appeared around the bend.
Cars glinted in the sun, a lot of them resembling Blake's truck with junk piled in the back.
Blake pulled into a spot near the entrance.
Sandra was talking to someone, a blue binder clutched in her polish-chipped fingers. She caught a glance at their car and waved. She said something to the girl in front of her and then headed towards them.
Blake rolled the window down. "Hey."
"Hey, guys." Sandra's cheeks were flushed . "Isn't the turnout great? Look at all the stuff we've gotten so far!" She neared them until the tip of her nose was in the truck. "How are you guys?"
She looked honestly concerned, and Nathan didn't miss her eyes resting on him a second too long to be a glance.
"Great," Blake said, avoiding further awkwardness between the two. Nathan gave him a grateful look. "We're just happy to get all this junk off her hands." He jerked a thumb to the back.
She smiled and headed to the back. Sandra rummaged through the junk, picking up an item every now and then with an appreciative look.
She banged the side of the truck before saying, "This stuff will work just fine. If you guys could start taking it in, that'd be great."
The car door slammed behind them as they got out. They took the smaller things in first: broken chairs, a picture frame with shards of glass hanging onto the wood, lengths of heavily rusted chains, and green lights.
Inside the building, piles of junk towered high in the corners. Nate bent down to inspect a creepy, broken doll with a voice spoke up behind him.
"Hey."
It was Aeron.
Faster than Nathan thought possible, he ended up alert and a couple of feet away.
"What do you want?"
The hair on the back of his neck brisled, and his senses heightened. Sandra was looking through a pile of junk, scribbling things into her blue binder. Another girl was sorting junk into smaller piles. And then he focused on Aeron.
He stood, dark and imitating, or maybe it only seemed that way to Nathan. Aeron was what girls called "tall, dark, and handsome". But would they still call him that if they knew the rage inside him?
"Just need help taking the fog machine out of the trunk."
Something in Nathan's blood boiled. A sweat broke out on his forehead, and it didn't have to do with the manual labor he just did.
"Fog machines are usually really light. I don't think you need my help."
"Wait, Nathan." Aeron grabbed his arm as he turned to walk away. "I wanted to talk to you."
Nathan ignored him and pulled his arm out of his grasp, heading to the first person he saw. Sandra.
She looked up from whatever she was doing when he got closer, and a look of uncertainty crossed her face.
"Hey, Nathan." She was guarded, tense. "What's up?"
"Just wondering what the game plan is."
"Oh." She brightened. "Well I'm going to go through everything and draw up plans to which room everything will go in. Then we'll out things into the corrects spots..."
Nathan nodded along, oblivious, trying to spot where Aeron had disappeared to. He could've sworn he felt someone's gaze on him, but nothing was there when he turned around.
Blake was gone, too, probably flirting with girls.
Nate continued to work until Sandra called it quits. He found Blake outside already, and they left as the sun sunk below the horizon. He flashed back to that day with Aeron, and he tightened his grip on the seat belt.
In the dying light, Nate could've sworn he saw Aeron and Sandra talking in the rearview mirror. When he looked again they were gone. He decided it was a trick of the light. He had something else to focus on.
A ritual.
A/N: Are you guys excited? Who do you think the murderer is going to be? Let me know in the comments below :) You will find out who it is in either chapter twenty-eight or chapter twenty-nine. The next chapter is really short.
Vote/comment/follow!
-Sophia ^_^