Chapter 11

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May was right about the search for Annalee Norris being hard. It took me several days to find her. And I found her out of dumb luck.

     May told me that Annalee had dyed her hair with purple streaks recently, but she left the rest of it naturally jet black. Sometimes she'd wear something both black and purple to coincide with her hair, and May has claimed that Annalee is the type, "to pull off something good while the rest of us look like idiots with a matching fetish". So, based on that, I walked by without actually keeping her on my mind, and there she was.

     Typical.

     She's currently having a conversation with who I assume are her friends, eating lunch in the courtyard and sitting on one of the benches. It's probably the fact she's a senior that my hands are getting sweaty as I get closer to her. Fortunately, when Annalee notices me, she gives me a nice smile. I didn't know there was such a combo of black (on the top lip) and purple (bottom) lipstick, aside from cartoons.

     "Hi!" she says. "Who are you?" She brushes off some flecks of orange nail polish off her (purple) jeans. "Sorry about the polish, I'm trying out some mixtures, and it's not going over well." Annalee gives a shaky laugh.

     I immediately clam up a bit. "Um, I'm Callie," I say quietly.

     I expect her next question to be what grade I'm in, and why I, a sophomore, am talking to a senior. Instead, Annalee smiles wider. "What can I help you with?" she asks. Sensing that this conversation is going to be just between her and me, the friends stand up and leave, making a gesture to Annalee that they're going to be in the cafeteria.

     "D-do you know about a girl named, um, Jules?" I ask. I can tell she doesn't like even the name; a flash of irritation appears in less than a second. "I, um--" What is with the stuttering?! I think. Get it out! "--got 'dibsed' by her, and--"

     I'm interrupted by Annalee exhaling sharply. "I'm sorry, Callie," she says. "I'm sorry that you were put in the situation." She pauses long enough for me to nod timidly. "Jules tends to be a little . . . possessive, I should say, when she comes across someone she likes."

     "But, this was random," I point out awkwardly. "I was just having my peace, and she came up and poked my shoulder." When I mention it, the same shoulder tingles a little. I dismiss it. "And I don't think she's ever been possessive with me." Well, that came out lewd.

     The senior crosses her legs. "I never said she's always possessive with her obsessions; I said she tends to be," she corrects, holding up an index finger. "She must have liked you to a degree if she hasn't pulled that off, yet," she later admits.

     I'm unsure if Annalee said that to make me feel better.

     "Wh-what was she like when you and Randy were dating?" I ask.

     She has to think about it before answering, "Honestly? Kind of annoying. She'd often ask me to stay at their house long enough to spend some time with me. And she'd beg her brother to let her come with us on our dates half the time. At some point, I told Randy that I'd much rather if I don't spend a lot of time at his house."

     At least I'm not the only one who thinks she's annoying. "I heard that she's been nicknamed 'Junkie Jules'," I mention. "Do you know if she, you know, did any drugs?"

     Annalee shakes her head. "If I didn't want to hang out with her when I'm over, Jules spent a lot of time in her room instead, with the door locked. Randy would have to bang on it to get her to open it if he needs something. She'd close the door right behind her when she would come out."

     That doesn't sound so suspicious to me. Nancy went through a phase that everything that happened in her room stayed in her room. Mom had sometimes asked Nancy how "Los Vegas" was, and whether the time was right for her to visit. 

     My sister didn't think it was funny.

     I haven't realize the senior is still talking. I focus just as she ends with, "--and then there was Wayne."

     What? "Who's Wayne?" I ask. 

     Annalee sends me an odd look. "You didn't hear about what happened last year?" I shake my head. "I'm actually surprised. The news spread like wildfire here." She re-positions herself, as if she's going to read a group of toddlers a story book. After a brief consideration, she scoots to her right and pats on an empty spot next to her. Because she scares me a little, I comply and sit next to her.

     "Alright, let me start off by telling you that you're not the first person Jules has done this to," Annalee says. "There was a guy last year named Wayne. He was friends with Randy, and Jules had a thing for Wayne." Oh, so what May told me, I think. "So, same thing in your case, she poked him, and Wayne was involuntarily her target of affection."

     "You're making her sound like some serial killer," I comment.

     Snorting, Annalee says, "Yeah, there are more than a few that say they wouldn't be surprised if she turns into one. But that's not the point."

     One of Annalee's friends comes up near enough to show the senior her phone. In two seconds, Annalee's phone rings. I wait for her to pick it up and answer. Judging from the look on her face, the text is either stupid or weird.

     She keeps talking as soon as she puts the phone back down. "Apparently, she got very aggressive with him. You know, leaving him letters in his locker, nabbing every girl immediately after they were talking to Wayne to tell them to back off, the works. I'd say it got bad to the point the staff had to be involved, but by the time that would probably happen, Randy announced that he got the scholarship, which somehow put what Jules was doing to Wayne on hold."

     I sit still, slowly processing the big load of information Annalee gave me just now. It takes me too long, which I can tell Annalee doesn't like; she's getting antsy as more texts are coming in. I stand up and face her. "Thanks for answering my questions," I say. "Um, is it possible I can talk to you if I have any other questions about Jules?"

     "Sure! No problem." Annalee holds out a hand. Confused by the gesture, I awkwardly give her a low five. She laughs, and makes the phone gesture next. With my face heating up by embarrassment, I take out my phone and hand it over. She puts her number in my contacts, and gives it back when she saves it. 

     "Text or call me," she offers. "I can get back to you in less than an hour if I'm not available."

     I nod. "Okay." I wave at her before walking off. As I scurry away, her friends come back to sit next to Annalee again. 

     I have to admit, I completely expected the meeting to not go over well, just because she's two years older than me. And she turned out to be more than nice, the kind of nice someone would use for their surrogate sister/brother. 

     It's a possibility Annalee went through something similar to Jules' situation. Or maybe I've just been judging a book by its cover. Either way, I have someone else to talk to if I find myself questioning about Jules' actions or motivations.

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