Haunted

Hitting Hard

I get to school just as the bell rings for home room. One of these days, I swear, I'll get to school on time. I have no intention of actually running to get to class, so instead I take my time, relishing the rare silence blanketing the halls. I round a corner, and have to actually force myself to stop grinning when I see Cassie leaning against my locker, inspecting her hair for split ends.

A little backstory on Cassie: we've been best friends almost longer than we've been alive, ever since I punched her in the face in kindergarten and broke her nose (she tried to steal my ice cream, totally justified). Mom had marched me over to her house to apologise that afternoon, and Cassie had stood in her doorway with a splint on her nose and an ice cream in each hand. She still has a bump on the bridge of her nose, and makes a point of joking about the mark I've left on her whenever she gets the chance.

"Truancy is an unforgivable crime, Ms. Parker," I say, putting on my best serious voice. But I can't stop my words from wavering through my smile.

Cassie sticks her tongue out at me, her purple and pink tongue-ring glinting in the fluorescent light. "As if I'd ever endure homeroom by myself. Ms. Luckman could be a very effective form of torture."

"Well you're lucky I actually decided to show up today," I say, punching my combination into my locker and tugging it open. "If I was going to cut class any day, today would be that day."

"Are you joking? You know you can't cut class without at least texting me first. Otherwise that constitutes abandonment and that is an unforgiveable crime my friend."

I take my battered old biology textbook from my locker and nestle it in the crook of my arm. "Unforgiveable crimes aside, we should probably get to homeroom before Ms. Luckman marks us absent and forms some kind of torturous vendetta against us."

Cassie crinkles her nose. "Homeroom? No thanks. Besides, we're already late. And you know I don't believe in being fashionably late."

I glance at my watch. "We are exactly three minutes late for homeroom right now."

"Exactly! We've already missed too much to catch up. We'd be at a disadvantage. Let's just go hang for a bit until first period."

I can't argue with her. Cassie is sunshine and laughter and it's impossible not to do what she wants. I shrug in agreement, and we make our way to our hidden nook under the main staircase, arms linked. Cassie nestles into her spot in the corner, crosses her arms over her chest, and cocks an eyebrow at me.

"So, tell me. You wanted to skip school today because you're still moping about the Spring Fling thing and just couldn't face it. Right?"

"If by Spring Fling Thing you mean getting dumped by your boyfriend two weeks out and then find out he's going with someone else then, yeah, I'm still moping about the Spring Fling Thing."

Cassie shakes her head, pausing to sweep her blond curls into a high bun, plucking the hair-tie from her wrist and wrapping it around and around and around. "Ryan's a moron, you're a babe, forget about it. You'll have a ton of guys lining up to woo you, trust me on this."

"Woo?"

"Yeah, woo. I'm talking old-school chivalry. Knight in shining armour types. Am I ever wrong?"

I bite my tongue, tempted to point out all the times that she has in fact been very wrong, but I resist. The truth is, Cassie doesn't really understand how I'm feeling. She's on the cheer squad, she dates jocks, and she never gets her heart broken. I tutor junior math students, I date the bad boys, and my heart is potentially an irreparable mess of splinters and shards. But that's a different story.