Later
Chapter 1 – A Blade in the Dark
The pretty red-haired girl named Samantha Simpson quickly weaved her way through other students in one of the halls of Beverly Hills High School. Her emerald-green eyes then spotted the back of a particular boy’s brunette haired head, the one she had been searching for. After quickly covering some more distance, she started to close in on him and slowed down to casually walk up and stand beside him.
“Hi, David,” Samantha said, smiling warmly.
“Hi, Sam. Nice to see you again,” the handsome boy replied, obviously pleased to see her.
“The same as always,” Sam said pleasantly. “Boy, that pre-cal test was something else, wasn’t it?”
“I agree. It was a pretty difficult test. I don’t think anyone was expecting it to be that hard.”
“I know. I couldn’t figure out the last question for the life of me, even though I went back over it about a hundred times.”
“The last question was pretty tricky. The only reason I knew the answer is because there was an extra equation in the second set of examples in the back of the book.”
“I don’t think I studied those. What was the answer?”
“If I remember right, it was A.”
“Oh dang, I chose C. I guess I missed that one.”
“Must be the first time that’s happened. I know how good you are at math, Sam.”
That comment and the white-toothed grin that came with it elicited a small blush on Sam’s cheeks. “Thank you, David. Say… I was wondering. Are you doing anything tomorrow night? There’s this movie out I really want to see, and I’m looking for someone I could enjoy it with.”
“Hmmm…,” David thought to himself for a brief moment. “I’m sorry, Sam, but Saturday, I’m busy. I’m having an art exhibition at the Feingarten Galleries.”
“Oh, if that’s the case, I would love to stop by and admire your art. I really like the new techniques you’ve been using.”
“So does the art community. I’m real sorry Sam, but it’s by invitation only, and the only ones we could invite were serious buyers and art critics. I think I’m going to make a lot of sales. I’m donating all the proceeds to my favorite charities.”
“You’re so generous, David,” Sam said, swooning a little bit. “That’s ok. I understand if you’re too busy tomorrow, but are you free tonight?”
“Tonight I’m volunteering at an animal shelter.”
“Wow, really?” Sam asked, really perking up. “I just love animals, and I would love to help you out.”
“Well, you better hurry up and buy plane tickets.”
“Plane tickets?” Sam asked, confused.
“Yes, the animal shelter I’m volunteering at is in the Galapagos Islands. I’m sad to say the endangered, giant tortoises have recently come down with a rare, debilitating virus. Once I heard about it on the news, I became so upset I just had to volunteer.”
“Oh… well, I don’t think I have enough of this month’s allowance left to pay for a plane ticket to Ecuador. How about we see the movie next weekend?”
“Next weekend I’m competing in the two day long Jazz-Dance Nationals in San Francisco.”
“I’d love to see you perform, and I’m a big fan of Jazz. Sounds like it would be worth the trip. Where do I get tickets?”
“Tickets sold out 3 months ago.”
“Oh. What about the weekend after that,” Sam asked, the enthusiasm completely drained from her voice.
“That weekend I’m attending the World Youth Summit Meeting on teen-drug awareness in Stockholm.”
“Oh, ok. I forgot that was coming up.”
“Don’t worry, after that I’ll see if I can schedule in a movie with you. I really haven’t had time to go to the theatre recently, but it sounds interesting. I’ll see what I can do. Talk to you later, Sam. Bye,” he said as he waved to her and turned to leave.
“Bye, David. I hope the turtles feel better,” she said right before her head dropped to her chest.
At that moment she felt the two comforting hands on her shoulders and turned to see her best-friends, Clover and Alex, giving her sympathetic looks. “Nice try, Sam,” Clover, the blonde girl, said with her slightly brassy and squeaky voice.
“He probably doesn’t have time for love,” the dark haired Alex’s cute but sincere voice added. “David belongs to the world.”
“I guess you’re right,” Sam said, disappointment still lingering strongly in her voice.
The two were still trying to console their dejected friend when a boy with wide-brimmed glasses, freckles, and a beige sweater vest approached the group.
“Here Clover, I finished your forty page science paper,” Arnold told her. He handed Clover a stack of stapled papers. “I wrote it on astrophysics, specifically on new discoveries regarding the molecular composition of cosmic rays.”
”I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds smart enough to pass.” Sam and Alex started grimacing hearing that. They both had spent hours finishing the assignment the night earlier.
“Now about that date you promised me. I was thinking since the skies were so clear tonight, we could head over to the observatory and…”
He was interrupted when a pretty girl with tan skin and unruly, maroon hair stepped right between him and Clover.
“Hi, Clover!” Tara greeted her with no small lack of giddy enthusiasm in her voice. She looked like she was fighting hard to restrain the urge to jump for joy. “I finished your 80 page English paper on the history of lip-gloss.” She handed Clover the huge document.
Clover glanced at the pink binder containing the 80 pages. It had her name elaborately designed in big, colorful calligraphy surrounded by innumerous, exaggerated, cartoon hearts. She opened it and looked inside.
“Wow, hand-written. And you ended all my sentences with hearts instead of periods. And inside the hearts are my name written in little, tiny letters,” Clover said, certainly pleased. “I think I’m going to have to give you a few extra fashion tips for this one.”
“Anything for you Clover,” she swooned. Alex and Sam just stood speechless in awe of the exchange that was taking place.
“Excuse me! If you couldn’t tell I was in the middle of a conversation with Clover,” Arnold said, scowling, very annoyed. “As I was saying, I’m free tonight and I was thinking we could go watch the stars at the…”
At that moment, Tara’s palm impacted Arnold’s shoulder like a lightning strike causing his glasses to fly through the air and his body to crash head first into the floor. “And I baked you cookies!” Tara suddenly pulled out a large plate piled with chocolate chip cookies seemingly out of thin air. “I hope you like them. I made them just for you, Clover. The main ingredient was love,” she said as her eyes sparkled, and her cheeks became several shades rosier.
“Tara, you know I’m on a strict diet. How could I be a role-model to you and all the other girls of Beverly Hills if I didn’t maintain my perfect super-model like girlish figure?”
“I know. That’s why I made them low-carb, calorie free, sugarless, low in cholesterol, artificial-tofu cookies in strict adherence to your diet.”
Hearts suddenly filled Clover’s eyes as she looked down at the cookies and licked her chops. “Well, in that case, I don’t mind if I do.”
“Here, I’ll feed them to you,” Tara said as she extended one of the smaller cookies firmly held between her fingers and thumb. Tara’s heart pounded as the cookie and her fingers holding it inched closer and closer to Clover’s soft, juicy lips.
However, the second before it reached them, a trembling Arnold with impaired vision, trying to stand up and find something to grip onto for leverage, grabbed Tara’s plate of cookies, causing it to flip out of her hand and to the ground.
Tara looked down at all her hard work scattered in broken crumbs across the floor, and her eyes filled with flames of hatred. “Clover’s cookies… Clover’s cookies,” Tara said in a darkly disturbing voice. “You ruined Clover’s cookies. I’LL KILL YOU!”
“Have mercy,” Arnold yelped the second before Tara tackled him to the ground and started beating him mercilessly with lefts and rights. Sam, Clover, and Alex started walking away from them down the hall. “Die you pencil-neck geek,” could be heard from behind them combined with the sounds of Arnold’s high-pitched, feminine shrieking.
“I can’t believe they wasted all those delicious looking cookies,” Alex remarked.
“I can’t believe Clover takes advantage of Arnold and Tara like that. Don’t you feel any remorse at all?”
“What’s remorse? Is that a new kind of new espresso at Mega Coffee Mart? Sounds good. Maybe we could stop by there after classes for a quick pick-me-up.”
“Ughhh,” Sam put a hand over her fore-head. “No, Clover, I mean don’t you feel bad, taking advantage of them like that, making them do your home-work?”
“No, why should I? Arnold, he loves that stuff. Asking him to write my science paper probably made his entire week.”
“What about Tara though? She was just only able to get released from that institution they sent her to after she was your personal assistant.”
“And she told me only the thought of gaining back my personal guidance in her life was what allowed her to make it through it all. How could I resist taking her back under my wing?”
Sam rolled her eyes harshly. “And you don’t find that strange at all?”
“No, of course not. What girl wouldn’t want to learn from my limitless knowledge and natural instincts? You know I’m big role model to so many girls. It’s only right that I give back and help the less beauty and fashion fortunate.”
At that moment, the harsh sound of the bell rang through the halls of Beverly Hills High, marking the end of lunch break and five minutes until the beginning of next period.
“Never mind…,” Sam muttered. “Let’s just get to class.”
Before they left, Clover’s head suddenly turned more than 90 degrees to look at a certain person who had reappeared down the hall. “Wait, I just forgot I need to get something. Just go on without me,” Clover said as she started speed walking down the hall.
“Where is she going?” Sam asked.
“Let’s just go to class, Sam,” Alex said, already getting a hunch of where this was headed.
“Why don’t you want me to know?” Alex didn’t answer and gave the particular expression with her scrunched up lips and cute, brown cheeks she always gave when she was unsuccessfully trying to hide something. “Ok, I’m just going to see where she’s going then.”
Alex tried grabbing her arm to stop her, but she pushed through her grip and turned the corner in the hall way to see Clover talking with David some distance away. She couldn’t hear the words being exchanged, but it was obvious through her body language she was trying to flirt with him, most likely trying to acquire a date for the weekend.
“I can’t believe her,” Sam said, disgust thick in her voice. “Didn’t she just see him shoot me down hardcore? Does she have no shame?”
“Clover just has a short memory sometimes, Sam. Don’t worry, if you weren’t able to get a date from him, there’s no way Clover could.”
“That’s not what makes me mad. It’s the thought that counts.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t mean anything by it. I have to walk across school to get to shop class now. Just try to forgive her, Sam.”
“I’ll try. See you after class Alex.”
“Bye, Sammy.” Alex then turned to leave. “AH!” She screamed when she turned to see the familiar face of a girl with fair skin, long dark black hair, and piercing purple eyes standing right in front of her. “Mandy how long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to see you two loosers blocking my locker with your huge butts!”
“Well… well…” Alex tried to quickly think of a come back. “I’ll just move then!” She shouted back.
Mandy rolled her eyes, “Yeah, good one, Alex,” she said as Alex stomped away. Sam, however, was still standing in the same position with her eyes fixated on Mandy.
Mandy quirked an eye-brow and gave her a suspicious look. “Whatcha looking at, Sammykins?”
“Nothing, Mandy.” Sam frowned at her and marched away in the other direction.
Sam kept walking down the hall way. On her way, she passed by a pathetic looking Arnold who was now badly bruised and wearing a sweater vest almost torn to shreds. “I’M NOT DONE WITH YOU YET!” a dark voice howled from behind him. A cold shiver ran up Arnold’s spine before he screamed again and started hobbling franticly away with Tara in close pursuit.
Finally, Sam reached her locker. She opened it with much force still quite angry about what she had seen but stopped herself from slamming the door. “I need to relax,” she told herself. “Maybe Clover will fess up if I ask her about it.” She collected her chemistry book, a note book, and a pencil. She closed the locker and resumed walking down the hall until she made it to room 198, the expansive, newly constructed science lab. She walked inside
“Hi, Mr. Roberts,” she greeted her teacher who was sitting at his desk at the front of the class.
“Good evening, Samantha,” the old man with the gray hair and moustache replied pleasantly to his favorite student.
Sam went and sat down at her usual seat in the center of the second row back. A few minutes later she spotted Clover’s fair skinned and blonde haired head coming through the door. She considered giving her a really nasty look for a moment but restrained herself and arched her lips up into a smile when Clover looked over at her. She came and sat in the seat next to Sam.
“So what took you so long Clover?” Sam tried to ask innocently.
“What? Nothing. I told you I had to take care of something.”
“Reaaaally?” Sam’s patience was gone. “Well is it taken care of?” Sam asked in a snotty voice.
“Not yet, but hopefully soon.” The red-head’s expression became darkly furious. “What?” Clover asked, still trying to maintain her innocence.
At that very moment outside the room, a certain individual walked across the quickly emptying hall and stopped in front of a particular locker. Opening it revealed a black back-pack hanging from a hook which the person proceeded to unzip.
From with in the bag, two black, leather gloves were extracted. The person pulled one of the gloves down onto the right hand tightly and proceeded to do the same with left. The gloved hand then reached back inside the back-pack to grip the black, wooden handle of a large, silver carving knife.
While the knife was held inside the locker out of view of the few remaining students rushing to avoid tardiness, a gloved index finger ran up and down the long, slightly curved blade. Its finely honed sharpness could be felt from even under the leather.
While still gripping the knife with the right hand, the individual then fished through the book bag once more until another object was found. It was a small, black cube. It was lifted out of the bag and popped open with the thumb, the top half of the cube swinging back to reveal a small, red button. The gloved thumb pressed down on it. Suddenly, all the lights in the building went out, and the hallway and the every other room in the school was buried in a shroud of darkness.
The cube was closed and placed inside a pocket. The locker was shut, and the individual leaned against it. Still gripping the knife, the person waited patiently in the darkness.
It wasn’t long before steps could be heard echoing through the otherwise empty hallway. The sound of steps became louder and louder. When they came close enough, the individual moved forward from the lockers and clamped a hand down onto the shoulder of the one emitting the noise.
“Who is it?” a familiar male voice asked. It was instantly recognized as David’s.
There was no response to his question.
“Afraid of the dark, huh? Well, don’t worry. I keep a flash-light in my locker for this very occasion. Just stay with me and I’ll guide you to it.” The leather hand moved from his shoulder to grip his arm tightly. “I can’t see, but since my locker is number B207, I estimated it should be about 64 paces down the hall from room 117 where my Classic Lit class is and then another 42 paces to the right down this hallway where the lockers are. You stopped me at pace number 84 so that means only 22 paces to go.”
When David finally finished talking, he continued taking his carefully estimated steps, and the one gripping his arm stayed at his side. After exactly 22 paces, he stopped and then turned sharply to the right.
The sound of a locker being opened could be heard. Shortly afterwards, David’s devilishly handsome face was illuminated by the beam of a flashlight. “See, it was just a simple geometry problem.” The beam then moved to illuminate the face of his companion. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, recognizing the face instantly.
The light then moved down to shine on the carving knife. “You must have come from a Family and Consumer Sciences class,” he deduced. “Say, that’s a really nice knife you have there. I can see the craftsmanship. There are some flaws with that design though, that’s why I forged my own variant as part of my smithery hobby. The extra contours I added come in real handy when I’m carving my Roast Peking Duck ala WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” his blood curdling scream echoed through the empty, dark halls of the school.
To Be Continued