Leah keeps an eye out for Jeanette around school, but doesn't see her anywhere. Which wouldn't be unusual, except for the fact that their high school isn't all that big. Case in point: the innumerable times Leah had to dodge Fatin post-tampon incident until that hot rush of embarrassment settled into something cooler, something she could handle without stumbling. More importantly, Jeanette is loud, so even if Leah can't see her, she should be able to hear her.
Yet everywhere she looks—hallways, bathrooms, classrooms, and crowded auditoriums during morning assemblies—she finds nothing. Which is odd in and of itself, but not even the weirdest thing about the whole situation.
Initially, Leah's flat out concerned for Jeanette. She knows firsthand what it's like to lose someone; and not just anyone, but someone you've opened up to. She knows that it's even harder to suffer through that immeasurable loss feeling completely, utterly alone.
But when she gets home after the memorial, finished with classes for the day and nothing on her mind except letting Gideon inside, her mind floats back to their last encounter. She recalls the unnatural, icy feeling of her hand brushing against Jeanette's arm; the way the chill seeped into her skin, settling into her bones. She opens and closes her right hand, as if the answers she's looking for will appear in the palm of it. They don't, of course, but she comes away knowing something isn't right here.
And for Leah, that gut feeling of something being not right is enough for her to want to know more. Well-intentioned concern morphs into something else, something she doesn't have a name for yet; and potentially, something she can't handle. (But she doesn't know that yet.)
So, yeah. Leah holds onto the memory of Jeanette. She doesn't even try to forget. At this point in her life, she's well aware of how her mind latches onto things and refuses to let go of anything until she's laid everything out on the table, pored over every piece, and placed each one where it fits into the larger puzzle, finding reprieve in how it all comes together.
Leah's a little relentless in that way. While she isn't the best at being patient, she knows that waiting is important, because at some point, something has to give in.
And eventually, something does.
---
Thursday October 27th, 2019
Leah's hanging upside down on the side of her bed, rereading an old copy of Priory of the Orange Tree, when a notification sounds off from her phone. She saves her spot with a worn bookmark and sits upright; book in one hand, patting her bed cover with the other, until her fingers find her phone. At the top of her lockscreen sits a single message:
Ian (6:33 PM): r u doing anything this weekend?
(6:34 PM): No?
(6:34 PM): The last time I went trick-or-treating was 9th grade.
Ian (6:35 PM): ik i was there
Ian (6:35 PM): colby invited me to a party tmrw night
(6:35 PM): Have fun.
Ian (6:36 PM): i was gonna ask if u wanted to come
(6:36 PM): Oh no. I just remembered that I have plans.
Ian (6:37 PM): dont be a dick
Ian (6:37 PM): wait. plz dont tell me ur rewatching the twilight movies again
(6:38 PM): I'm not. My mom wanted to go out for dinner.
Ian (6:38 PM): so u r
Ian (6:38 PM): no way maryann roped u into mother-daughter bonding
YOU ARE READING
haunted
Fanfiction"Wait." Fatin halts in the middle of the living room. She points her flashlight up at the ceiling. "Do you hear that?" Leah strains her ears, and picks up on the faint sound of rhythmic thumping upstairs. "Yeah." Leah chews on her lip, a nervous tic...
