Chapter 9

"That's... that's very interesting, Cassie. I, uh, never would have thought of that myself."

Cassie beamed at Melinda. Melinda managed a small smile in return. It masked the growing anxiety inside her. The simple truth was that Melinda was running out of things to say. Cassie had lost her a half hour ago. Melinda heard only half of what Cassie said, and barely a fraction of that could she comprehend.

The only good thing about it was that Cassie had been so eager to talk to Melinda that she did not think to ask about what had happened to Melinda over the summer.

"It's the only thing I can think of," Cassie said in a soft, slightly dreamy voice. "It just makes sense to me. It's... it's not a reality that will be or even could be, but... but one that simply crosses with our plane. And my mind is the crossroads."

Melinda just nodded. Now she understood nothing of what Cassie was saying.

At first it had been a thrill to have Cassie over. Seeing her pull up in the limo, and then having the limo remained parked in front of the Sovert house was a novelty for her. Yet that wore off pretty quickly once Cassie began to talk.

Melinda had Heather initially to help her find things to say or pick up the slack in the conversation. It became too much for Heather to handle, however, after barely ten minutes. Then she was on the phone to her friend Diane, and five minutes after that she was out of the house like a shot for the mall.

Melinda hated herself for having to admit it, but Richie had been right. Cassie was weird in the extreme.

"Um, Cassie, can I ask you a question?" Melinda said quickly before Cassie could start to speak again.

"Sure." She smiled sheepishly. "I've sort of monopolized the conversation, haven't I?"

"Oh, no, not at all. Uh, you ever think of writing this stuff down?"

"Oh, yes!" Cassie bolted from the sofa so quickly that Melinda flinched. She dashed over to her satchel and pulled out a spiral notebook. She smiled and held it lovingly to her breast. "I keep a journal all the time. This is my thirty-second volume."

Melinda stared. "Thirty-second... ?"

Cassie sank back down onto the sofa, looking at Melinda with intense eyes. "I write in it every day," she said in a husky voice. "I... I have to. If I don't, they build and build in my head."

"Until your head explodes?" Melinda suggested before she could stop herself.

"Actually, I don't know what would happen if... wait... did you just make fun of me?"

Melinda shook her head quickly. "No, not at all! Really! I was, uh, just kidding around."

Cassie paused, then a small, forlorn smile touched her lips. "Sorry... Just so many people think I'm nuts because of all this."

"Oh, no, not at all, Cassie," Melinda lied.

Cassie looked away. "I didn't ask for these dreams to start, Melinda. They did on their own. I just try to make sense of them."

Melinda nodded more slowly. Some of her convictions about her feelings towards Cassie waned.

"They were really bad this past summer. I thought they might diminish once I was overseas but they didn't. Sometimes I'd wake up feeling like I never went to sleep. Not all of my dreams were restful."

Melinda said nothing. She was starting to feel guilty about what she had been thinking. If these dreams did simply start plaguing Cassie out of the blue, that was hardly her fault. She didn't remember Cassie being anything like this in elementary school. Whatever had happened to her, it had happened over the past year.

"And there was that oddest one of all, Melinda," Cassie said softly, seeming to stare out into space, as if replaying it before her right then. "About a house. At the end of a street."

Melinda's mouth dropped open briefly. She recovered before Cassie could see it, swallowing hard.

Cassie shifted her eyes back to Melinda. "I really have talked too much."

"N-no, Cassie, you're fine," Melinda said in a shaky voice.

She sorely wished Jason were there. He would make sense of what Cassie was saying. He seemed to always know what to do. That morning was the perfect example. She had not liked it at the time, but ultimately it turned out to be the right course of action. Now they knew the nurse was safe, and that this medical program was nothing to worry about.

She inwardly sighed and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She wished Jason were there for another reason as well.

"No, really, I have, though I appreciate you listening to me."

"Well, what are friends for, you know?"

Cassie smiled. "I'm glad you still consider me a friend. It means a lot to me right now."

Melinda hesitated a moment. She really did not want to hurt Cassie's feelings, but she felt like she was getting in way over her head. Cassie was telling her things that she only barely understood, but she could guess that it was making Cassie miserable.

"Cassie, I'm just wondering, did you ever consider... well, telling someone about these dreams?"

"I try to tell people all the time, Melinda," Cassie said with a sigh. "No one wants to listen. You're the only one."

"I meant maybe someone that knows more about dreams."

Cassie paused a moment. "What do you mean by that?"

Melinda struggled to find the right words. "Well, there are some people that, uh, do this sort of thing. Figure out people's dreams and all that."

"You mean... like psychics?"

"Er, no. I mean... um, like professionals."

"Professionals," Cassie echoed tonelessly. "You mean... like doctors."

"Well, yeah, but ones that do this sort of thing. Uh... do you understand what I mean, Cassie?"

There was a long pause. When she spoke again, it was in measured tones. "Yes, Melinda, I believe I do. You think I'm insane."

"Huh? No, I don't! Wait, Cassie!"

Cassie had risen from the sofa and was heading quickly for the front door. Melinda jogged to catch up with her and spun around in front of her, blocking her exit.

"Cassie, please, I didn't mean that!" Melinda pleaded.

"Stop pretending, Melinda!" Cassie snapped. "That's worse than making fun of me. At least be honest that you think I'm crazy."

"Cassie, I don't think you're crazy! I just... I just don't understand all of this. It was bugging you so I thought I would suggest..."

"Bugging me? It doesn't bug me, Melinda." Cassie paused and sighed. "It causes me problems, yes, but... but it's part of me... it's me... I can't change that, and I don't want to change that. Do you understand me?"

Melinda hesitated. "I think so," she said, though there was uncertainty in her voice. "Okay, maybe I don't, not completely. But I don't think you're crazy. Please, Cassie, I'm not like Richie!"

That gave Cassie a visible jolt. Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly. She swallowed. "Please... don't mention him right now," she said in a husky voice.

"Sorry," said Melinda sheepishly. But she had to say it. The last thing she wanted in the world was to be associated with anything Richie had done. If Richie had rejected this girl because he thought her weird, Melinda was determined not to repeat it.

"You'd really think I was crazy if you let me talk about him."

"Look, I just didn't know how you felt about this, okay? I won't ever suggest you go see someone about this ever again. I promise."

Cassie nodded and gave Melinda a small smile. "Thank you." She glanced at the door. "I really better be going anyway. Oh, wait... I never got to hear what you had done this past summer that was so interesting."

"Er... well, it... it's a really long story, Cassie. Let's save that for next time."

"Could I come over tomorrow?"

"Uh..." She wracked her brains for an excuse to say "no" and failed. "S-sure, why not?"

Cassie's smile widened. "Thanks. I'll see you in school tomorrow."

"Right. Bye, Cassie."

"Bye, Melinda."

Melinda watched Cassie leave, then let her breath out in a long sigh. Now she really wished she had had Jason over instead. And now she had to play hostess to Cassie again and would miss yet another opportunity.

During August, once Melinda had gotten over her initial shock of the House, Jason and Melinda managed to find time alone almost every day. Almost every day they invariably had sex.

Now Melinda had been forced to go a second day in a row without it, and it was getting to her. Even standing there, just thinking of him, was enough to make her pussy tingle. The worry that had been only at the very edge of her consciousness now slipped fully into her thoughts. Had she become too addicted to sex? Had the House made her that way?

Or did the House leave any of them with the power they once had, and Jason was somehow unconsciously using it on her?

She took a deep breath and let it go. She rushed up the stairs and into her room to find something else to distract her from her disturbing -- and arousing -- thoughts.

"There!" Jason said with satisfaction, dumping an AC adapter into Frank's lap. He sat down heavily on the edge of his bed. "Finally found it."

"Hey, man, thanks!" Frank said, grinning. "I'll try it out tonight."

"Cool. Send me an email if you get it up and running."

"Sure thing. And thanks for inviting me over."

Jason just shrugged.

Frank smirked. "Thought you might've wanted to spend time with your girlfriend."

"She had plans," Jason said in a low voice.

Frank chuckled. "She's not mad at you, is she?"

Jason looked puzzled. "Mad at me? For what?"

"Rumor has it you stole a peek at the school nurse."

"Who told you that?"

"I overheard Richie boasting about how he intended to flirt with the nurse when it's his turn, since she's so hot."

Jason sighed and shook his head. "That figures."

"So... is she?"

"Is she what?"

"Is she hot?"

Jason paused. One corner of his mouth curled upwards. "Yeah, she is."

Some of what had happened in the nurse's examination room that morning was admittedly a bit of a blur to him. He did remember being rather strongly aroused in her presence. It had not been unpleasant. Awkward, but not unpleasant.

He still thought it was rather odd. He still had a fragment of a memory of seeing that aura around her, an inky black miasma that throbbed and writhed. Yet he had found nothing on her as he had left.

"And Melinda's not mad at you for that?" Frank asked dubiously.

"Well, she said she wanted me to give her a call later this afternoon, so it's safe to say that she's not. Anyway, I had a nasty cut on my finger. Not like I had a choice."

"I heard you did it on purpose."

"What?!" Jason cried, jumping to his feet. "Who told you that??"

"Overheard that from Richie, too."

Jason frowned deeply. "I'm going to kill him," he muttered.

Frank's eyes widened and he leaned forward. "Dude... are you serious? Did you really cut yourself just to..."

"No, of course not," Jason said after a moment's pause.

Frank knew a lie when he heard it. So Jason really did do it. He was seriously impressed.

At the same time, it reinforced the notion that there was something very odd going on, not just with Jason but with what Frank semi-cynically referred to as Jason's entourage. He started listening more closely to their conversation on the bus. He didn't pick up everything they said, but what he did made him curious.

Frank nodded. "Ok, man, whatever. Still, wish I got a look at her."

"Well, you'll have your chance, with the medical program."

Frank noted this with interest. One of the things he had overheard was that one of them was going to do something to stop the program. Either he had heard wrong, or the attempt had failed.

Jason made a face. "Is Richie really telling people I purposely cut myself?"

"Yep."

"Goddamn."

"Speaking of Richie... you help him with his, uh, math problem?"

Jason looked at him funny. "Math problem? What are you talking... oh... oh, yes. Yes, I did. Everything's cool with that."

Frank just nodded. He was convinced now. Jason and his friends had something secretive going on. He wanted in on it, if for no other reason that he could claim to be part of some sort of group or club. It even had the hallmarks of a conspiracy of some sort.

And if that were the case, he knew he could not simply invite himself. Jason would have to invite him. Perhaps he would be willing to trade.

"Hey, Jason, you want to hear about something cool that I did?" Frank asked with a wry grin.

"Uh, sure, I guess. What's this about?"

"It's about how I managed to fool my stepsis into some free peeks at her in the all-together..."

Diane draped the T-shirt over herself and glanced down at it appraisingly. "Hmm. Maybe too long. Too droopy-looking. What do you think, Heather?"

Heather just shrugged. "I think it looks fine on you."

Diane paused a moment, staring at Heather.

Heather blinked in response. "What?"

"That's the same thing you said for the last three T-shirts I tried."

"Oh, I did? Well, I liked them all."

"Yeah, right."

Heather gave her a perplexed look.

Diane let the T-shirt drop. She folded it and stuffed it back in its bin. "Your body may be here, Heather, but your mind seems to be anywhere but."

Heather gave her a sheepish smile. "Oh, sorry."

It had not been for lack of trying, certainly. Heather had wanted nothing more than to put this business with the school nurse behind her. She wanted to believe Jason, that there was nothing to be worried about anymore. Yet as she had told Melinda, there was something still bothering her. The odd imagery that she had in her head whenever she thought about it was still there.

Diane stepped up to Heather. "Look, if there's something that I did wrong, please, tell me."

"What? You didn't do anything wrong. What gave you that idea? I just have something on my mind, that's all."

"Then why do you avoid me in school?"

Heather looked surprised. "No, I don't."

"Well, you hardly speak to me beyond just saying 'hi'. You used to want to catch up on the latest gossip at least once. Or we'd exchange warnings on who was giving a surprise quiz that day."

Heather paused for a moment, then spoke in a more contrite tone of voice. "I didn't realize I was doing that. But it's not you."

"Well, I didn't know what else to think. I mean... I used to be your best friend."

"You still are," Heather said automatically.

"Yet you hang around people like Jason and Richie. I mean, of all people."

"Oh, well..."

"So I obviously did something to offend you," continued Diane, starting to look upset. "Just tell me what it is."

"Diane, I keep telling you, you didn't do anything wrong. I just..."

"I know, I know. You have something on your mind." Diane sighed dramatically. "You used to tell me what was on your mind, you know."

Heather gave Diane a forlorn look.

"So if that's true, Heather, what is it? Your little sis again? Teacher giving you a hard time? Another dork trying to get you to go out with him?"

Diane was sincerely hoping it was one of these. After all, those were the things that Heather always used to complain about, at least before Heather stopped talking to her sometime over the summer.

Diane had been thrilled to see Heather again when the semester started. At first it had appeared that her fears had been unfounded. Yet after two more days, it was obvious that something had changed between them.

She had little way of knowing that it was not her that had changed, but Heather, and rather profoundly at that.

So she hoped she would be on familiar ground again. It was to her dismay when Heather shook her head. "No, it's none of those."

Diane nodded and remained silent for a moment. What really confused her was the crowd Heather hung out with now. Jason Conner? Richie Gardner? Each time Diane had spied them together it looked as if they were friends. Moreover, some friends of Diane that took the same bus as Heather told her that the lot of them -- Heather's baby sis included -- sat together on the bus and talked, sometimes quite animatedly.

"Please, don't be upset by this, Heather," Diane said cautiously. "But... but it's if you're a different person since the semester started."

Heather looked at Diane oddly. Afraid that she had indeed offended now, Diane felt the need to explain herself. "You don't seem as interested in the same things anymore. It's like you don't care about the things we used to talk about."

Heather said nothing in reply.

Diane sighed. "All right. If you really don't want to talk to me, then I'll just leave, okay?"

She started to turn away, her heart thumping. As she had ardently hoped, Heather rushed over and stopped her.

"What?" Diane asked, trying to sound casual and indifferent, but there was some measure of hope in her voice.

"I never said that," Heather said in a softer tone. "Don't go, please."

Diane made an attempt to sound dramatic again as she sighed, but she managed it only partially. She was looking into Heather's eyes, and it was difficult for her to think of anything harsh towards her friend. Diane always thought Heather had beautiful eyes. She loved talking with Heather because it gave her an excuse to hold eye contact and look into them.

"Diane, I'd have a really hard time explaining to you what's bothering me," Heather finally said in a halting voice. "It's really difficult."

Diane looked back in concern, still casting her own gaze into Heather's eyes. "Are you all right? Is your family okay?"

Heather tried to repress a shudder at the mention of family. "My family is fine," she lied. "It was more some stuff going on at school."

"So it is about a teacher... no?" Diane paused. In an increasingly uneasy voice she said, "This is not about the school nurse again, is it?"

Heather nodded slowly.

Diane tried not to react. What had happened the day before replayed vividly in her mind. "I heard Jason managed to get a look at her."

"Huh? You did?"

"Is it true?"

Heather hesitated a moment. "Um, yeah, it is. He cut himself on something and had to go get it treated."

"So what did he think of her?"

Heather rolled her eyes. "He thinks the nurse is hot."

Diane snickered. "I guess dork-boy would, wouldn't he? Considering it's the only action he gets."

Heather looked about to retort, but she bit it off before she could utter a sound.

"So what's the problem? Did he find something odd or strange about her?"

"He says he didn't."

Diane smirked. "Is the rumor about all this true? That Jason cut himself on purpose just to see her?"

Heather flinched. "What??"

"Um, just repeating what I had heard. Sorry."

While Heather's reassurances had been meant to assuage Diane's fears, they did anything but. Diane was still getting the feeling that something was wrong between them. If Heather stopped being her friend, she would be devastated. She was close to panicking over it.

"Look, um... you want to go get some ice cream? My treat."