Sally Smirk.

Chapter Fifteen

In art the next day, Rayne sat on the arm of Sally's throne. This was their last day in the supply closet. They had drawn numerous pictures, and Mr. Simmons had excused them from all of their classes that day. He entered and locked the door behind him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, taking a seat in Rayne's chair. He had asked the same question at least five other times that day.

"Yes, that's why we didn't tell anyone but you." Sally replied.

"I promise I won't tell anybody, and I will visit, but have you thought this through?"

Rayne drew his sketchbook from his bag and flipped to the list. "Pretty much." He rested a hand on Sally's shoulder and waited for Mr. Simmons to say something.

"Well, I guess you have. There's only one problem though."

"What?"

"Since you intend to die such a grisly death, there has to be some kind of blood, or DNA left behind. There's no other way. If the fire was to be so devastating that you two disintegrated, the crash would've at least killed you and left behind some blood or something." He handed the sketchpad back in disgust.

"He's right." Sally said.

Mr. Simmons walked out the door and called for Rayne. Sally was left alone to draw, and think. They had fixed all of the windows and cleaned the whole house of dust and grime. All that was left to do was remove the plants and fix the rest of the broken boards and shingles. She thought about living in it. Rayne had told her if she wanted to, she could paint the walls. All of the wallpaper was peeling, but she declined. She liked it that way. She couldn't wait to leave the world she knew and hated so much, and start a new one with someone who cared about her, and wasn't embarrassed or scared of her.

Rayne sat down on the arm of the chair again. Mr Simmons had to start a new class.

"What was all that about?" She asked.

"Mr. Simmons gave me a lecture about being responsible. He said if all of this blows out of proportion, that I had to take the blame because I dragged you into this and blah blah blah." He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

"Anything else?"

"Well, he said, and I quote, 'If my little flower gets hurt, your death will no longer be a fraud. You protect her with your life and don't get her into any trouble. I'll be checking in you two, and if there is anything even remotely wrong, I will have your head mounted on my wall.'" He said, mimicking Mr. Simmons. He laughed, but it was slightly noticeable that he was afraid.

She laughed, nearly hitting her head on Rayne's elbow. "Wow you better not screw up then!"

"I guess not." He said.