Lon Chaney Has Nothing On You

Chapter One

Eleanor Davis was not looking forwards to a new school. She was not looking forwards to leaving what meager friends she had taken years to acquire and having to start from scratch. She knew she wasn't conventionally pretty in ways that made a girls popular, though she liked her green eyes and smile. 

She was rather quirky: possessing a wide knowledge of several books, TV shows, and movies along with a data base of useless facts. She dressed almost exclusively in graphic tees, flannels, ink covered skinny jeans, and her favorite Chuck Taylors. Her hair was impossible; it was a mop of unruly, shoulder-length black curls she could never finagle into something nice. She was too skinny, with no curves to speak of at 16. She also had the worst habit of running her mouth at the most inappropriate times.

Did her father take any of this into account when he ran off with a much younger woman? No. Did he care at all that he was deserting his wife of twenty years and his only child? No. Had he forgotten just how dramatic his now ex-wife was? Had he not realized that the "pain of his betrayal" would "haunt Delphine for all eternity in this house of hell?" The answer to that was of course yes, because, as intelligent as her father came off, he never stopped to think. 

It was this inability to think through his course of actions that had rudely uprooted Eleanor from her beloved home in New York City and landed her in Sioux Falls, Minnesota with zero regard to her feelings. Just typical. Nevertheless, she was determined to make the best of a truly miserable situation. She held her head high and agreed vehemently when her mother told her Sioux Falls would be a great place to paint and for Eleanor to finally get a hobby.

That's how Eleanor found herself desperately trying to straighten her hair at 6 AM in the morning, in hopes of looking somewhat decent her first day of junior year. After an hour of struggling, she'd finally gotten her hair together and she was dressed in a boring plain blue button down paired with a plain black tank top, new unstained jeans, and for the first time in her life, soft looking ballet flats. 

After deciding she wasn't going to look any better than this, she shouldered her bag and left the house, ignoring her mother who was sprawled out on the couch, martini already in hand. Day drinking already, good god. The drive to school was quiet, mostly because Eleanor couldn't figure out what station to put on, or what they were. She parked quickly and dashed into the building after looking at the time. 

Thankfully the student office wasn't hard to find and the lady at the front desk was very kind, printing off a map for her and telling her how to get to her first class. With various papers in her hand, she managed to make it class with seconds to spare. Students milled about the class room. Girls sat on desks and flirted with boys. Other read quietly, and one group of boys huddled close together, laughing at something. Eleanor turned to the older man at the front of the room, presumably the teacher.

"Mr. Foley?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes?" he gave his answer without looking up.

"I'm new here this year, and I need you to sign this," she explained, handing him the homeroom teacher form when he looked up. He quickly signed it and handed it back.

"Alright Ms. Davis, let's find you someone to buddy up with here," Mr. Foley typed away and scrolled through his computer for several minutes. The class behind her began to settle and she could feel everyone looking at her.

"Oh perfect," Mr. Foley muttered, "Mr. Sands?" A blonde boy looked up, the same one who had been laughing closely with his friends. Eleanor noticed he had a camera in his hands.

"Considering just how many classes you and our new friend Ms. Davis have together, I'm assigning you to be her buddy, show her around and the like," Mr. Foley explained. The boy groaned and began to argue.