𝗦𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛, 𝗁𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌

ii. the skeptic in salem

━━━ CHAPTER TWO!

𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗫 𝗔𝗟𝗗𝗘𝗡 watched outside the classroom window as the orange and yellow leaves fluttered gently to the pavement. Salam was always so beautiful during the Halloween season. Each house was decorated in its own personal spooky style, with jack-o-lanterns lighting up the porches and the occasional Christmas lights still dangling from the rooftops—forgotten from last winter.

Between the festivals, the cheesy (and sometimes terrifying) decorations, the endless reruns of classic horror films, and the old folktale of the Sanderson sisters, there wasn't a soul in Salam who didn't revel in the Halloween spirit.

Well—perhaps there was one. The new boy from Los Angeles.

Max Dennison was, to put it kindly, insufferable. Beatrix didn't know him personally, but from the short time she'd spent sitting in front of him in history class, she'd gathered one thing: Max didn't care for any of Salam's traditions.

Especially Halloween.

Beatrix shifted her gaze from the window to the inside of the classroom. Like the town outside, it too was decked out in Halloween décor. Paper skeletons dangled from the ceiling, a giant pumpkin cutout grinned from the bulletin board, and Ms. Olin, their history teacher, was wearing a pointy black hat in honor of the holiday.

Ms. Olin grinned as she recounted the tale of the Sanderson sisters. "And so, the Sanderson sisters were hanged by the Salem townsfolk. But there are still those who say that on Halloween night, a black cat guards the old Sanderson House, warning off anyone who might bring the witches back to life."

A scoff sounded from behind Beatrix. "Give me a break."

Beatrix turned slightly, rolling her eyes as Ms. Olin let out a soft chuckle. "It seems we have a skeptic in our midst," the teacher said, smiling as the class's attention shifted to Max Dennison.

"Mr. Dennison, would you care to give your California, laid-back, tie-dyed point of view?"

The class laughed, and Beatrix twisted in her seat to shoot the boy a pointed glare.

Max sighed and stood up, addressing the room. "Okay. Granted, you guys here in Salem are all into these black cats and witches and stuff—"

"Stuff?" Ms. Olin interrupted.

"Fine. But everyone here knows that Halloween was invented by the candy companies. It's a conspiracy."

Beatrix's eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth to argue, but her best friend, Allison Watts, spoke up first.

"It just so happens that Halloween is based on the ancient feast called All Hallow's Eve," Allison said, her voice carrying confidently across the room. "It's the one night of the year where the spirits of the dead can return to Earth."

The room erupted with a mixture of applause and cheers as Allison finished. Ms. Olin joined in, clapping with a smile that bordered on pride. "Well said, Allison," she praised, nodding approvingly.

Beatrix watched as Max stood from his seat, taking a few steps towards Allison, who sat just in front of her. He extended a small piece of paper toward her. "Well," he began, voice wavering slightly but steady enough to catch everyone's attention. He cleared his throat and pushed the paper forward. "In case Jimi Hendrix shows up tonight, here's my number."

Beatrix's eyes widened, and she couldn't help but mutter, "You have got to be kidding me."

There was a split-second of silence before the classroom exploded—this time with hoots and whistles. A few students laughed outright, some groaned in exaggerated disbelief, and one particularly loud boy shouted, "Max, fat chance!"