Chapter 3

The limo passed over the Orchard Street bridge with a rumble of tires on old wood and rivets. Cassie Kendall's eyes were like the water that passed beneath; deeply blue-gray in color and placid in temperament.

She had not moved from that position since the car came off the mesa. She continued to stare with subdued gaze out the window of the back seat of the limo. When the car thumped off the ancient span and back to blacktop, the trees of the greenbelt that ran along the Haven River closed in.

For a moment, the dimness allowed her own countenance to reflect back at her.

The fifteen-year-old considered her face. Oval-shaped, with high cheekbones and dimpled cheeks, framed with wavy bangs of perfectly coiffed sandy-brown hair. Pretty, not beautiful.

She turned away, taking a quick, deep breath, even as the car cleared the trees and morning sunlight returned.

She looked down at herself. A plain white blouse and dark blue skirt adorned her body. Her legs were clad in stockings, her feet in low-heeled shoes. Cute, but not sexy.

She drew in her breath in a deep sigh.

"Is everything all right, Miss Kendall?"

Cassie looked up, as if startled to find that there was actually someone else in the car with her. "No, Harry, I'm fine, thank you."

"Looking forward to the new school semester are you?"

Cassie wanted to tell him the truth. She wanted to tell him how much she was dreading it. But she knew this would be useless. He would just offer some banal platitude and return to ignoring her. Several times in the past Cassie had tried to engage the man in conversation, but he never gave anything more than polite, proper answers in reply.

She could not even get him to call her by her first name.

"Yes, I suppose so," she said in a flat voice.

"We shall be there shortly. Please let me know if you need anything else, Miss Kendall."

Cassie leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. There was nothing that the driver could possibly give her that would make her feel any better.

She didn't fit in at Haven High. Her parents were rich. Old money, handed down from a century and a half worth of Kendall wealth and power. They could afford anything she wanted. They would give her anything she wanted.

They could have also put her in a private school, or hired a private tutor. Yet they thought she should have the opportunity to "socialize" with people her own age.

The other students either thought of her as the little rich-bitch wannabe (even though she never lorded her family's position over anyone, unless they got her angry), or they pretended to be friends with her to get at some of that money.

There were a very few people that tried to get to know her better. Then it only got worse. Then she dared to trust that they would not think her strange when she shared her thoughts with them, when she told them of the journal she liked to keep about the strange feelings and imagery that flitted through her head at odd times during the day, or filled her very vivid and very real dreams at night.

"Some socializing this is," Cassie mumbled to herself.

"Excuse me, Miss Kendall?"

Cassie sighed and shook her head. "Nothing, Harry, never mind."

"If there is anything Miss Kendall requires..."

"Miss Kendall requires a new life. Can you get that for me, Harry?"

Harry remained silent for a moment. In that time, Cassie held out a small bit of hope that he might actually start talking to her as if she were a real person rather than "the Kendall daughter."

Her hopes were quickly dashed the next second. "I would suggest you take that up with your parents, Miss Kendall," he said politely. "In the meantime, perhaps you would like me to play some music you like on the..."

"No, Harry," Cassie snapped. "Just pretend I'm not here."

"As you wish, Miss Kendall."

As you wish, Miss Kendall, Cassie repeated mockingly in her head. She sighed again and looked out the window, her eyes shimmering.

She thought she may have found someone different. Someone that didn't mind her oddness. Someone that could see beyond it. That hope, too, had been dashed just the week before. He had ignored her as if he had never known her, only to lavish attention on the buxom blonde nearby.

Cassie wanted to hate him for it, but even that would not have stopped her dreams about him.

Her body gave a tiny shudder. She drew in a deep breath and let it go. She could not let herself think about that now. She was sure she would do something stupid if she did. She knew she would go and do what she had intended to at the end of the last semester, before she knew that her parents were going to take her abroad for the summer.

Cassie shook her head. Yes, her parents had money and power, and by association, she had it as well. Yet she doubted that kind of power could get her what she really wanted.

All the money in the world could not buy her a boyfriend.

Melinda watched the students streaming in from the parking lot towards the high school building, entering the building proper through the east wing entrance. Slowly she relaxed, her heart pounding a little less hard in her chest. Among the sea of students that moved like a slow tide around her, she saw not a single black aura.

"I think it's going to be okay, Melinda," Heather said, the relief evident in her voice.

Jason managed a smile at Melinda and squeezed her hand. Melinda turned her eyes to him and smiled, her cheeks growing faintly pink. Jason had to admit that he loved seeing that. He would never tell her this, but he thought she looked sexy when she blushed.

As if guessing what he was thinking, Melinda giggled.

From behind them, Richie rolled his eyes and pretended to stick his finger down his throat, making silent gagging motions. Heather punched him the arm.

"You don't see it either, do you, Jason?" asked Heather.

Jason looked around and shook his head. The only problem was that he was not at all sure when his "power" worked and when it didn't. He feared that it perhaps hinged on his ability to accept it without understanding how it worked. To a geek like him, that was a very difficult thing to ask of him.

"What about you, Richie," Melinda piped as she turned to him, letting go of Jason's hand.

"Huh? What?"

Melinda rolled her eyes and stamped a foot impatiently. She spoke through clenched teeth. "Do you see it yourself?"

"See what?"

"Richie!" both Melinda and Heather called out in admonishment, advancing on him.

Richie raised his hands defensively. "Okay! Okay! Shit, stop picking on me, willya?!"

"Then stop acting like this," Heather declared.

"Acting like what?"

"Like you don't give a shit."

Richie shrugged. "Maybe I don't."

"You don't mean that," said Jason.

Richie frowned. "Like hell I don't. Look, what difference does it make? The pipsqueak here didn't see anything, and she's really into it..."

"I'm not 'into it'!" Melinda said indignantly. "I don't want this, but I have it, so I'm going to use it. And stop calling me 'pipsqueak'! I hate that even more than when Heather used to call me 'Mel'!"

"Okay, I won't, Miss Fine-Boobs."

Melinda made as if to rush him. Jason grabbed her arm and stopped him.

Richie smirked. "C'mon, it was just a joke. Fuck, can't we all laugh a little, huh? Look, none of us see anything weird, right? So everything's cool. This school is clean and all that. So can we all stop acting like we're expecting fuckin' zombies to pop outta pods or something?!"

The others exchanged silent looks. Before anyone could think to say anything else, their attention was distracted by the sight of a black limo pulling into the parking lot. They turned towards it just in time to see it come to a stop, and for its sole passenger to emerge.

"Say, that's the same girl I saw watching one of your ballgames a week or so ago, Richie," Jason said.

Richie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's Cassie."

"Maybe she likes you," Melinda said with a smirk. Cassie turned in their direction and appeared to stare at them.

"She doesn't look so bad," Jason commented. All of them remained silent until the limo had pulled away and she was no longer being seen against its black paint. "And she's all right... well, in other ways."

"I don't see it, either, Jason," Melinda said happily.

Richie snorted. "That's a surprise. If anyone would have it, it would be little miss weirdo."

"Oh, shut up, Richie!" Melinda smiled and waved a hand. "Cassie!"

"Gah, don't do that! She might come over here!"

"Richie, stop being such a turd, all right? She was my friend back in... "

Melinda trailed off as Cassie abruptly dashed over to the school entrance and disappeared inside. Melinda's mouth became an indignant pout.

Richie snorted. "Yeah, some friend."

"Listen, we better get inside," Jason suggested loudly, cutting off Melinda's retort. He glanced at Richie for a moment and forced a smile. "You know, maybe he's right. Maybe we're making too much out of this, about the aura thing. I'm sure we've got time before we have to... uh..."

"Have to what? What the fuck were you thinkin' we'd do if we saw someone, huh? Report him to the principal? Oh, Miss Bendon! Johnny has this evil black smoke around him! I'd call an exorcist if I were you!"

"Richie, stop it," Heather said, though there was some amusement to her voice. She had to admit that the imagery that this conjured up was funny.

Melinda was not quite as mollified, but she was tired of being on edge all the time. She sighed and looked back towards the school. "Shit, I hope I can find everything," she muttered.

Heather looked about to move in and comfort her sister, but Jason intercepted and threw an arm around Melinda's shoulders. This was a bold move for him, so much so that his heart was pounding in his chest. Melinda could feel him trembling against her, as well as hear the quaver in his voice when he spoke.

"I'll help you get around, no problem, Melinda."

Melinda thought this so endearing that she smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek. Jason blinked and then blushed beet red.

Heather uttered a weak chuckle at this, but it was a cover for another emotion that had threatened to well up in her before she could quell it: jealousy. For a brief moment, she hated Jason for taking her place at Melinda's side. It passed quickly, but the fact that it had been there at all disturbed her.

"We better get going," Jason said in a flustered voice as he pointed towards the entrance. A man with a sagging, bulldog-like face standing to the side of the door had begun gesturing towards them in annoyance.

"Hey, isn't that Mr. Seeger, the vice principal?" Heather asked.

"Yeah, that's ol' saggy-seeger all right," Richie muttered. "So?"

"Well, the previous two years it was always Principal Bendon that greeted everyone."

Richie just shrugged. He didn't care for either one of them. Miss Bendon was always handing him detention for one thing or another, and Mr. Seeger was the one that ran detention. To him, one was more or less like the other.

"Damn, I hope they didn't make him principal this year," Jason whispered as they started up the stairs.

"No, Mr. Conner, happily that is not the case."

The four of them came to a stop as the jowl-faced man glowered at them.

"Er... I-I just meant..." Jason stammered.

"I knew exactly what you meant, Mr. Conner," Mr. Seeger said haughtily. "And you will be happy to know that I share the sentiment. I do not wish the position. Miss Bendon is simply indisposed at the moment."

The disdain with which he said this suggested he would rather be somewhere else.

"Now, stop dawdling and get on to your homeroom classes. Except you." He pointed a meaty finger at Melinda.

Melinda just stared.

Mr. Seeger was one of those unfortunate individuals -- unfortunate to the students, that is -- that had instant recall of every face that graced the halls of the school. Thus when he saw one he did not recognize, he knew right away it was an incoming freshman. "Freshman orientation is in the auditorium. I trust Miss Sovert here can find the way for you."

He eyed Jason suspiciously at the same time he said this. He was of the belief that teenage boys were lower life forms bent on ravaging the female student body, thus he viewed the closeness between Jason and Melinda as a danger.

Heather rushed forward and placed her hands on Melinda's shoulders. "I'll be happy to show her the way, Mr. Seeger. I'm her sister."

"Yes, that would figure." He gestured for the four of them to go inside. As they passed, he turned to Richie. "Oh, and Mr. Gardner? I suggest you simply head over to detention and save yourself the trip later. I'm sure you will wind up there eventually anyway."

"I missed you too, Mr. Seeger," Richie said with a smirk. "You're such a ray of sunlight in my dark and dreary little life."

Despite her feelings towards Richie, Melinda had to clamp her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Mr. Seeger frowned. "Shut up and get to class."

Cassie had forgotten all about Melinda Sovert.

It had already been a bit of a shock to see Richie standing there almost as soon as she stepped out of the limo. At once, her thoughts began to race, and she was unsure of herself again. Maybe he didn't mind her hanging around after all? Maybe she just misinterpreted things at the park?

Then she had spotted Melinda and panicked.

Before she knew it, she was dashing past Mr. Seeger and had lost herself in the boisterous crowd in the school corridors, hugging her notebooks to her bosom like a shield.

Melinda had been her only friend in grammar school. Or at least the only one she dared to call a friend. She was the only one that never made mention of Cassie's money, either for good or bad. Melinda simply treated her as a person.

But that was before the journal. Before she started having the odd dreams. She couldn't stand the idea of going over to Melinda and her friends and feeling mortified when Melinda rejected her as being too "weird" now.

And now, to make matters worse, she shared homeroom with Richie Gardner.

Cassie had almost hoped that the memory of how he had ignored her and chatted up the blonde bombshell would let her stay upset with him to mask any other feelings she had. It had been in vain in any case.

Homeroom was only fifteen minutes long. Enough to take roll call and make announcements. Cassie cast furtive glances towards Richie, located an aisle over and forward of her seat. Fleeting images of her dreams flitted through her mind, and her sex tingled. By the time the bell rang to signal the change to the first class of the day, her pussy was damp.

Cassie couldn't stop herself. She had to talk to him.

Richie was closer to the door and made it out first. Cassie had to rush to catch up with him. Once out in the hall, however, she slowed and hung back. He was looking up and down the corridor, sweeping the students with his gaze, occasionally rising on tip-toes to gaze over the crowd. He finally stopped and uttered a frustrated sigh.

Cassie rushed up to him. "Looking for someone, Richie?"

Richie flinched in surprise. "Huh? Oh... it's you."

Cassie sensed the disappointment in his voice. She ignored it. "Yes, it's me, Cassie. You remember me, don't you?"

"Er, yeah, I do," Richie said with a small smirk. "You were watching me play."

She smiled and nodded.

"Liked what you saw?"

She looked at him oddly. "Pardon?"

"I won almost every game."

"Won almost... oh, the ballgames! Yes! Yes, I enjoyed watching you... the games very much."

"Cool. Well, gotta go. See ya."

He turned and started away from her. She caught up with him. "Uh, were you looking for someone, Richie?"

Richie gave her an exasperated look. "Yeah, I guess I was."

"Anyone I know? Maybe I can help you find him."

"Her, actually."

"Oh." Cassie paused. She had to jog a bit again to catch up, as he seemed to have quickened his step suddenly. "Well, who is she? Maybe I know her."

"Nah, you don't know her, Cassie, trust me."

"Well, you never know. Describe her to me. I bet I'll know who it is."

Richie sighed and rolled his eyes. "No, you won't."

"Try me. Seriously, try me! I know just about everyone in the school."

"Uh, yeah, right, Cassie," he said with a smirk.

"I do! Look, I don't just see them here. I see their faces in my dreams. Sometimes they talk to me. They... uh..."

Richie gave her a funny look.

Cassie blushed. "Ok, never mind that. I just know a lot of people, that's all. Just..."

"Cassie, look, I don't need any help, okay?"

She sighed in frustration. "Richie, this is not like you."

Richie stared at her. "Huh? What the fuck does that mean? How am I supposed to be?"

Cassie winced. She hated profanity. "I just mean you weren't like this last year, when you..."

But by this time, Richie was no longer listening. The crowd of students had thinned, as most of them had by now found their first class of the day. He had just glimpsed a familiar blonde step into one of the classrooms. While today she was dressed more conservatively in slacks and a blouse, there was no mistaking that figure.

"There she is! Linda! Hey, Linda!"

Richie burst past Cassie, nearly bowling her over as the edge of his backpack caught her.

Cassie stumbled, righting herself in time to see Richie dash up the corridor and towards the classroom where the blonde had entered.

She had recognized the woman as well. She was faster on the uptake than Richie had been, as she already knew as Melinda did that there was a new teacher named Linda Davis at the school. She had recalled thinking that the girl that Richie had been so enamored of was rather older than perhaps he was assuming.

And she also realized that Richie had not figured this out yet.

"Oh dear!" She ran after him. "Richie! Wait! She's not what you think... I mean, she's..."

But by the time she had caught up with him, he had already crossed the threshold and now stood just inside a classroom filled with senior year students, all of whom were looking at him in amusement. She stopped just short of entering the room with him and hung back in the corridor instead.

"Hello, Mr. Gardner."

Richie looked towards the front of the class.

She was indeed exactly as he had remembered her. Long blonde hair, deep liquid blue eyes, fantastic figure. Even with her more conservative attire, her blouse was just tight enough to show off the nicely rounded breasts, and the slacks just snug enough to show off the flare of her hips.

She gave Richie a gentle smile.

"Er... hi, Li... uh... Miss Davis," Richie stammered.

"While I'm happy to see you eager to learn history with me, you'll have to wait until your scheduled class later this morning."

Richie stared at her for a moment. He had a great deal of trouble seeing her as a teacher. All he could remember was the gorgeous blonde he had seen in the park, the one that, in his mind at least, had come on to him and practically invited him to ask her out. For that whole week before school, he had entertained vivid notions of her being just as he had described her: oh-so-fuckable. And always with him on the giving end of it.