Murders at Westfield High

Chapter 4

My third day at Westfield High was just as weird. I arrived early when no one was around. I looked down the hallway and saw the girl in the prom dress standing by Locker 235. She stared at me but never moved. I started walking toward her, but she disappeared. Now, I really thought I was going crazy.

I tapped Neil on the shoulder in homeroom. He turned around and smiled. “What’s up?”

“Do you know who used to be in Locker 235?”

“I have no clue,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“I saw someone by it, but she . . . she didn’t hang around long enough for me to talk to her.”

“You’re just going to have to be quicker, Kramer. She’s probably one of those snooty elite bitches who doesn’t give a shit about us working class peasants.”

I sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Actually, I took his rant to indicate that he was lonely and socially inept. He just had a strange way of expressing it.

I hooked up with Julia at lunch again.

“I saw a girl in the bleachers during my gym session. She appeared to be wearing a prom dress.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” she said while nibbling on a turnkey sandwich. “They don’t permit spectators in gym or swimming classes.”

I shrugged. “Who knows what could happen in this place? ”

“You have a point,” she said. “A lot of crazy things have occurred in this school. The odd thing about the girl you saw in the prom dress is that prom is a long way off.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I was wrong about the prom dress.”

She offered a weak smile, a sign that she wasn’t all that interested.

I avoided belaboring my sighting of the prom girl. The last thing I wanted to do is sound as if I was a nut case, so I decided to try a more direct approach.

“Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to go to the Sock Hop this evening.”

She smiled, an expression that exuded genuine joy. “Sure.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Great.”

I took a sip of Coca Cola. “Say, is there any way to determine who’s assigned to specific lockers?”

“You’d have to ask someone in administration,” she said, her eyes hinting of curiosity.”

“What about years before this?”

“They always list the locker assignments in the year books. The library has those. Why the interest in locker assignments?”

I smiled to hide my true intent. “Oh, I’m just curious about who had my locker before me. I found some old papers with personal information.”

“Yeah, the janitors are not all that thorough about cleaning lockers out at the end of the term.”

I didn’t press the issue. I figured that I would bide my time until I could turn up some information on the girl at locker 235.

That evening, I picked up Julia. She was standing out on the stoop in front of the flower shop waiting for me. She eagerly ran to my car and climbed in before I could do the manly thing and open the door for her.

“I didn’t think you’d like to go to dances,” she blurted, her voice tinged with excitement.

“They had Sock Hops at my previous school. I didn’t go that often.”