Who Corey Was

11

A screeching sound broke into my unconscious mind and made it aware. I sat up to stretch and nearly hit my head on the ceiling. As usual, the room was blisteringly hot. Kelsey got up and turned off her new alarm as I climbed down the ladder and headed for my closet. As I threw the doors wide, I eyed my many uniform pieces with disdain.

"Hey, Alice!" I called from within.

"Yeah?" she replied.

"I was thinking. Do you want to hang your shirts and jackets in here on the opposite side from mine? Then I can store my skirts and socks in the bureau with yours."

"Um...sure." She came into the closet. Her hair was slightly mussed from sleep. Seeing her tickled something in the back of my mind. Something important? I ignored it.

I smiled at her. This way my socks and skirts were no longer just tossed in a pile in the corner and her shirts wouldn't be wrinkled anymore. We'd both look pristine. We chatted idly as we moved our stuff and got dressed. White button up tee, brown plaid skirt, knee high socks, Mary Janes, and the jacket with the school crest. Rachel and Kelsey watched us like we were crazy.

"Good morning," I greeted them as Alice and I gathered our books and headed to the bathroom to get ready.

In the cafeteria, we sat with Dylan and Sarah. The meal was full of cheerful chat.

"You're in a good mood," Dylan commented.

I told him, "Maybe I'm finally feeling comfortable at this school." He smiled at that.

Xander glared at me from across the room the whole time.

Heading into class, I sat next to Dylan without so much as a second thought. "Good morning, Corey," the teacher greeted. The entire class seemed to hold its breath. "How are you feeling today?"

"Fine, thanks, Mrs. Dawson. And you?" I replied.

She smirked. "I'm well, thank you."

There was a crash at the back of the room that caused everyone to turn, and we all watched as Xander shoved back from his seat and angrily left the classroom. As Mrs. Dawson worked to calm everyone from this sudden outburst, my mind protested.

How had I known her name? She'd never told me her name. In fact, no one had. So how did I know it?

I brushed it off. I must've heard it somewhere. People don't just receive knowledge without a source.

Class went relatively normal. When Mrs. Dawson collected the homework, I realized I hadn't done it and sputtered out an apology, begging her not to give me detention. She obliged, and again, I thanked her profusely.

Dylan, Alice, and I made our way into the hallway at the lunch chime, and that's when a strange thing happened. A strong hand grasped my arm and firmly pulled me away from my friends. It was Xander, and I found myself cowering in fear. He studied me.

"Well fuck," he spat quietly. I jumped nonetheless. "They got to you too."

Then he left.