The Phantom of Scranton Hill

22

Throughout the entirety of the day of her return to school, Justine didn't once see the ghost of Dax. Instead, she was greeted by Charlotte who brought great news.

"I mean, can you believe it? He actually asked me!" Charlotte screamed not-so-subtly as she jumped up and down in the middle of the hallway. She was overpowered with joy the second she revealed that Price asked her to the dance, which was scheduled to be exactly two weeks from then: Friday October Twelfth.

Justine pasted a fake smile, trying her best to conceal her uneasiness and anxiety. "Yep. You predicted it," she declared, throwing her hands up in surrender though her heart wasn't really in it. Her voice sounded bland, but Charlotte was too busy daydreaming to notice.

Predicted it, Justine repeated inside of her head. Like a Futuresight.

Justine studied Charlotte, her father's words swirling like a hurricane around her brain. He had called her the Futuresight of her generation, and a powerful one, too. But Justine couldn't get over the fact that Charlotte looked like a helpless teenage girl that could only do harm if someone tries to grab the same pair of shoes as her during a Black Friday sale. More importantly, how could someone with such a low standard for school or academics predict the future? Justine thought it ridiculous. On the other hand, looks could be deceiving.

Not anywhere near forgetting, Justine pretended to be happy for the sake of her friend, but she was still suffering from the drama with Dax. She really wanted to go with him, but Chase was a real, live boy. Dax was like Pinocchio. Justine laughed at the thought of Pinocchio from Shrek--I'm a real boy!

Speak of the devil.

Chase strode down the hall, swaying his shoulders with each step as if he owned the school. Girls' lustful and hungry eyes followed ardently as well as boys' envious ones. Satisfied sighs escaped hundreds of lips as their eyes consumed him. Sure, he was very good looking, but he wasn't the last piece of a puzzle sitting under the couch for ten years that your maid accidentally vacuumed up. Justine couldn't understand teenage desperation. She certainly didn't need his attention to live.

Chase approached Justine and Charlotte, territorial growls erupting from across the building as he threw his arm around Justine's shoulders.

"Good morning, Justine," he smiled down at her. Charlotte emphatically cleared her throat, forcing his attention onto her. "And friend," he glared, his lips curling up once more as his icy blue eyes met Justine's hazel ones. "So what have you decided on? Can't leave a guy hanging, you know. It's better and easier on you to just say yes." The corners of his plush lips cut into his perfectly sculpted cheekbones, giving his eyes a playful tint.

Justine's eyes scaled her surroundings, trying to find him, hoping that Dax would make a last minute attempt to be her knight in shining armor and declare his undying love for her, hoping that it was all just a dream. That he never died. But he didn't. And he did.

"Are you looking for something?" Chase tapped his foot impatiently.

Charlotte nudged her arm and raised her eyebrows, gesturing to Chase's uninterested expression, which immediately changed as her eyes met his once more. She slouched her shoulders slightly in defeat before nodding and accepting his offer.

He smirked almost wickedly as if he knew she couldn't resist. But she could. "Great," he said, removing his arm. "Wear something short and tight," he winked then left, making her stomach churn.

Charlotte glared at her. "Why'd you wait so long to respond, sugah?" she asked in a Louisiana Bayou accent. "And why do you look so defeated. Lighten up a bit, you're going to the dance with the most wanted guy in the entire school. Look happy!"