Chapter One

Shoulder length black hair, faded green eyes, and strong facial features stood in the doorway of my seventh period class room. The new student I had heard about all day. His torn black jeans, black vest, and black rimmed eyes explained why the news of his arrival spread like wild fire.

            “Grant Ogilvie?” The teacher stood up

            “Ogre is fine.” His deep and raspy voice echoed throughout the room

            “Grant it is. Please, have a seat.”

            He surveyed the room and found the only seat available, the seat on my left side. He worked his way over to me and sat down. The smell of a burning campfire and lit cigarettes filled the air. I pushed my chocolate brown hair behind my ear and managed to fake a smile.

            “Harper Smith.”  

            He didn’t respond, instead, he stared at the text book on the desk. After a while, he reached into his bag and found a notebook. Silently, he began taking detailed notes about everything the teacher said. His hand was shaking as he tried to focus on something other than the wall clock.

            After the longest forty-five minutes of my life, the bell rang. Before the rest of the class had a chance to stand up, Grant was out the door. By the time I made it into the hallway, he had vanished.

            “What do you think about the new kid?” My best friend Samantha came up behind me.

            “He sure doesn’t look like a kid.” In fact, he looked to be in his mid twenties.

            “Maybe he was sent here to spy on us all.”

            “He could be an alien for all we know.” My response was lined heavily with sarcasm.

            “Now that’s just silly. Are you still coming over tonight?”

            “Yeah, I’ll be over around six. I have to stop by my house and get a few things.”

            We said our goodbyes and I began walking to my car. It was raining for the third time this week. By the time I reached the door, my clothes were soaked and my hair was dripping. Pulling out of the school’s parking lot, I began making my way home. Only a mile away from the school, I found Grant walking on the sidewalk. The rain was still pouring down and he was visibly drenched. I pulled up beside him and rolled down my window.

            “Would you like a ride?”

            “I’m fine.”

            “No, you’re not. Get in.”

            I leaned across the seat and popped open the passenger side door. He hesitated for a moment before finally getting in.The car remained still until he finally put his seat belt on.

            “Where do you live?”

            “Eden Street.”

            “That’s not too far from my place.”

            “Great.”

            He scooted closer to the window and didn’t say anything for the rest of the ride. The rain had slowed to a mist by the time I pulled into his driveway and tried not to gawk at the oversized mausoleum in front of me. He lived in the old Franklin place. The house was built over one hundred years ago and it appeared to be carved out of a single large stone. The neighborhood rumor was that it was haunted, everyone has always avoided it.

            There was a petite blonde woman, probably in her early forties, sitting on the small front stoop. Her head tilted as Grant opened the door. After noticing who it was, she smiled a weak smile and began to walk to the car. Grant shook his head and she stopped in her tracks. She sent a little wave my way and went back into the house.

            “Thanks.” He slammed the door.

            I waited for him to get inside of the house before I left. The silence of my thoughts was overwhelming during the ten minute drive to my house. When I got home, I went to grab my bag and noticed a small packet on the floor. I picked it up and studied its contents. It looked like sugar.

           Pocketing the package, I went inside the house. I grabbed a bottle of water and went to my room. After putting together a small bag of stuff for the sleepover, I went on my computer. The sugar packet was heavy in my pocket as I tried to focus on a web article. I pulled it out of my pocket and stared at it once again. My mind was racing as I tried not to think about what it could be.

            Fifteen minutes from six, I left the house. The rain was still going at a steady pace as I walked to Sam’s place. I got to her door, wiped my feet, and went in. Her mom gave me a quick hug and pointed me in the direction of the media room. I was greeted by four giggling girls that all attacked me in a surprise hug.

            “Go put your pj’s on!” Sam giggled

            “I’ll be right back.”

            I shrugged out of my jacket, set my bag down, and went to go get comfortable. In her bathroom, I looked in the mirror and noticed that I wasn’t smiling. I splashed some cold water on my face and forced my hair into a messy ponytail. After I changed, I went back into the girls’ room. They were all silent. Their judging eyes pierced my skin and left me feeling immensely self-conscious. I slowly walked over to Sam and sat down. No one said a word; the life had been sucked out of the air.

            “What’s going on?” I finally asked.

            “What’s this?” Sam threw the little packet onto my lap.

            “Where did you get that?”

             "It fell out of your jacket. Harper, what is this?"

              "I don't know."

            “You don’t know?”

            “I gave the new kid a ride home today. It must have fallen out of his bag.”

            “Why was it in your pocket?”

            I let out a nervous giggle.

            “I put it there?”

            “Harper, what’s going on?” Jessica asked from the back of the room.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            That was the honest truth, I had no idea what was going on. Samantha looked like she was seconds away from starting an intervention. What was the big deal? Grant had left something in my car and I picked it up so I could give it back to him on Monday. I didn’t understand why this was such a big problem.

            “Harper,” Sam started, “where did you get this?”

            “I told you, Grant left it in my car. I forgot it was in my pocket.”

            “Do you know what this is?”

            “Sweetener?”

            I heard someone scoff at my innocence.

            “Harp, it’s cocaine.”

Author's Note

Grant's character is loosely based off Nivek Ogre, the lead singer of Skinny Puppy. I have no affiliation with him.