Slayer

Chapter 2

For the rest of the day, it seems as if Tyler is following me; he is in nearly all of my classes; he sits next to me; God, he even sat next to me at lunch!

"Hey, Brooke," he says as I am getting ready to go home, "how was your first day at Harrington?"

"Fantastic!" I say. "Everyone here is so nice!"

He grabs his books and smiles. "So, see you tomorrow?"

"Of course." I wink and walk out the door.

"So, how was your first day at school?" Mom asks as I walk into our house.

"It was eventful," I say truthfully, setting my books on the table.

"What happened?"

"Well, I met a boy..." I try to stay in the character of Brooke, but 'Mom' gets my hint.

"Oh?" she asks, but she already knows who this boy is.

"His name is Tyler Parks."

"Tell me more about this boy," she demands in the perfect mom-additude. At first, when I came home, I ditched the whole persona, but over time, I realized that it's easier to stay in character all the time.

"I really don't know much about him."

"Nonsence-- tell me everything."

I sigh and sit down on the couch-- explaining this boy will take a while.

"How long will it take to kill him?" she concludes.

"Stay in character," I hiss.

She nods. "Right--sorry." She smiles and holds my hand in a motherly way. Anyone watching would be convinced she was my mother.

But they couldn't see the knife she handed me.

The next day at school, Tyler follows me. I try to follow the persona and stay nice and bubbly, but it was hard not to stab him in his creepy face.

"Hey, Brooke," he said awkwardly as I catch him tailing me.

"Hey. What are you doing?"

"Just walking to class." Obviously a lie, but Brooke would've never suspectd him of lying.

"Okay! I'll see you in Geometry." He nods, and I enter the Spanish classroom.

The teacher is writing on the chalkboard, preparing the class for our lesson. I sit down and get out my Spanish notes-not like I need them. I've been to school so many times under different personas, I don't need to waste time studying.

The bell rings, and the rest of the class enters the room. The teacher begins the lesson, but I don't listen. Instead, I doodle in a notebook and hope I can get out of he as soon as possible.