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#1 Jcrazy

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Posted 16 June 2013 - 02:33 PM

GRANDOVER ACADEMY 


D32BE030-2C85-4FE4-9B4D-5D9B4BF84B39-595

Chapter 1
Welcome to Dorm 226

Known for its impeccable graduation statistics, twenty to one student-teacher ratio, and castle-like stature, Grandover Academy was the best boarding school in the state of Connecticut. It was for the pure bred scholars of tomorrow, the talented and gifted, and the parents who had a large enough paycheck to buy their kid in. 

I more or less fell under the latter category. 

It's not like I was dumb. I lacked slightly in the ambitions department, but I got decent grades. Well, not in history, but in everything else I did well. 

It helped that my dad was a retired professional soccer player and could buy my way in with not much more than a phone call. Two weeks into my first summer in Connecticut, he had already hooked me up with the best schooling. When he asked me if I wanted to stay in one the on campus dorm rooms, I'm sure he thought I would decline the offer. But something about the idea appealed to me and I found myself saying sure, that I would give it a shot.  

"Do you think they'd be pissed if I pissed in the shrubs?" my dad asked, shifting on the bench and staring uncomfortably at the rose bushes in front of us. We were waiting in the gardens just outside of the Headmasters office and Dad apparently had to take a leak. 

"They look like nice roses," I commented in lieu of reply. 

"I kind of have to take a number two, too."

"The level of comfort you have when telling me this sort of stuff is just a notch too high." 

He shrugged noncommittally and when a peppy looking guy who was undoubtedly gay burst through the office doors into the garden space a moment later, Dad withheld a chuckle. 

"Wow, hello! You must be one of the new students! Samantha, is it? My name's James Mason, junior dorm advisor. I'm here to assist you in a tour around the school grounds. There's so many places we could start!" His voice was higher pitched than mine and his eyes were gleaming with a level of excitement I could never attain. 

"How about the restroom?" Dad asked. 

James eyes flashed to him and I think he ever so subtly checked my dad out. This was absolutely not an uncommon occurrence though. 

"Of course, sir. There's one just through these doors."

After a quick pit stop in the offices bathroom, James led my dad and me around the school. I saw the three story library, science building, math building, English building, and just about any other school subject that you could put in front of the word building. 

After touring the entire premisses of Grandover, I felt small. It had the atmosphere of an ivy league college and I had the typical mindset of an almost-seventeen year-old-girl: I was freaked the hell out. 

"And these are the dormitories for our on-campus students..." James flipped through his handy dandy clipboard. "And, yes, you are one of them! You're in the girls dormitory of course. Hmm...let's see. Room 226!"

I was shown the cafeteria next to the dorms and then taken into the dorm. We climbed a flight of impressive stairs and walked a brightly lit hardwood hallway until we arrived at room 226. 

"Welcome to dorm 226!" James said, gesturing wildly at the door in front of us. 

When he turned a key in the doors lock, it swung open to reveal the room. A quick look around revealed it to be superior to some college dorms I had seen in pictures and pamphlets. There were two double beds as opposed to the traditional twins or bunk beds. Separate dressers, desks, nightstands, and closets on opposite sides of the spacious room made it obvious whose was whose. A window divided the space. 

"Sweet," I said with a shrug. "Do I know who my roommate is yet?" I flicked a glance at the flammingly gay tour guide. 

"Yes!" he said with the enthusiasm of a six-year-old on a sugar high. Once again, he surveyed his clipboard that he tended to grasp in a strange hug hold to his chest. "Let's see, your roommate is...Callie Monroe. She is a junior like you. She's provided an email address I could give you if you'd like it."

"I'd love it."

He scribbled it down on a scrap sheet of paper with a pink pen before thrusting it at me. My eyes skimmed it before neatly folding it into a pocket sized square. I was already mentally writing an email in my head. 

"Ooh, let me show you the vending machines!" James gushed. 

***

"He was so gay. Amazingly gay. Magnificently gay. Incredibly g—"

"Dad, all these adjectives are making you sound a little gay," I pointed out, leaning against the marble kitchen counter. I reached for another piece of pizza out of the box Dad and I were sharing,

Just as I was about to take another bite, a ping pong ball hit me square in the forehead. 

"Ow, Dad," I complained, dropping the slice of pizza in exchange for rubbing the sore spot on my face. 

"Sorry, kid. But you have to admit, that tour guide was feminine. His nails were nicer than yours! I think he had on mascara!" My dad ranted and I couldn't restrain my laugh. 

My dad and I had an atypical relationship as far as the father/daughter portion went. My mom had passed away when I was three and Dad—twenty-six and in the midst of his soccer career—played for three more years before retiring and spending his time as a full time father. He briefly coached a college team when I was in middle school, but other than that, he made wise investments and the lump some he made from playing professionally was more than enough for us to survive comfortably. 

Dad liked to move around as well, so this was the third city in the past two years. 

Because of our closeness we were beyond comfortable with one another and our relationship frequently felt more like a friendship than anything else. 

"Have you emailed that roommate of yours yet?" he asked a brief moment of silence later. 

I nodded, grabbing the laptop sitting next to the stove and flipping it around to face him. He leant against the bar, reading my words aloud. 

"Dear Callie," he said. "My name is Sam McPherson. You're welcome to Google and Facebook stalk me. It'll make me feel better about doing the same to you earlier today. When touring Grandover today, I was told you were going to  be my roommate, so really this stalkerish behavior is completely acceptable if you look at it from my perspective. Anyway, I know school starts in about a week, but I figured I would introduce myself before the fact. I've got plenty of free time so if you wanted to talk on the phone or text, let me know. Here's my number. Can't wait to meet you."

After he finished reading he glanced up and grimaced. "The ‘plenty of free time’ thing makes you sound like a giant loser."

I resisted an amused smile. "Love you too, Dad." I snapped the screen shut and slipped it beneath my arm, grabbing the last slice of pizza and retreating to my room. 

"Kid, I'm serious!" he called after me. "You look bad, you make me look bad! Sam!"

I flipped him the bird over my shoulder. 

***

"These boxes are filled with bricks, aren't they? You're just doing this to torture me?" Dad guessed, struggling as he made his way down the hallway towards my dorm. 

"You know, I thought you were in shape." I ignored his questions and took a jibe at him instead. He glared and I grinned when he looked away. 

I slid my key in the lock the way James had on tour day when I got to the door labeled 226. Other girls and their parents milled around the halls, and I was trying to put on my best hi-I'm-friendly face, but knew Dad was dying to sit all the boxes in his arms down. 

"Thank God," he said, practically dropping the luggage—the boxes specifically labelled "fragile"—to the floor. He rested his hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths before wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead and looking up to me. 

"You sure you wanna live here, kid? Your room at home is way better," he observed. 

"Dad, I think my decisions been made. We're already here." I motioned around us. He shrugged. 

"Looks like your roommate beat us though." He nodded to the one side of the room that was already completely set up. 

I shrugged. "I know. She texted me about it." I waved my iPhone in his face. 

I'd spent the past week texting Callie and having the occasional phone call with her. I had deducted immediately that I liked her. She didn't seem to have the greatest sense of humor, but she did have a big personality and was friendly.

Dad left me to get the remainder of my things and I surveyed the room again, finding myself smiling. There were so many possibilities—new people, new experiences, new changes. Of course some of them were intimidating, but the "newness" of the situation was the main reason I had decided to live on campus. I wanted to experience something different and make a change. Sure, I was absolutely going to miss my dad like hell, but we had weekends. He was the only thing making the day bittersweet. 

"Sam?" 

I turned around at the sound of my name coming from a voice I recognized only from our phone calls. I smiled at the sight of a pretty girl with tan skin and dark hair, remembering the Facebook pictures I had seen of her after she had friended me. 

"Callie," I said happily, and the next thing I knew I was being greeted with a tight hug. 

"Oh, it's so good to meet you!" she said after our slightly awkward embrace. "I was wondering when you were going to get here. I've been dying to meet you in person."

"My dad was being slow this morning," I explained. 

My statement was immediately objected against as Dad walked through the door with the last of my things and glared at me. 

"She's lying," he said simply, to Callie. Then he stretched his hand out towards her. "Nice to meet you. I'm—"

"Robert McPherson, I know! I Googled Sam and you came up. My uncle is a huge soccer fan. He was actually at the Olympics the year you played for the US. Anyway, I kind of feel like I'm meeting a celebrity. It's so nice to meet you."

Callie's words seemed to startle him, but they just made me laugh at his panic stricken face. 

"What?" Callie asked cluelessly, glancing at me. 

"Nothing," I said, smiling at her and rolling my eyes at Dad. "It doesn't matter. My dad was just about to leave..."

"Kid, don't you want me to help unpack?" Dad frowned. 

"I think I can handle it."

"Kid..." He pouted. 

"Dad, goodbye," I said with a laugh. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck for a tight hug before releasing him. 

"Be good," he said, staring at me intently, and I knew he was serious. Rarely was he ever, but I could tell when he was. "Don't get into too much trouble, kid, you hear me? Learn, make friends, but be good. I love you."

"Love you, too."

His words were still sitting with me an hour later after Callie had helped me unpack and decorate my side of the room. We had talked and drank sodas from a vending machine on our hallway while placing all my pictures on the nightstand and hanging all my clothes in the closet. 

"Oh, dammit, it's almost five," Callie said, glancing at her phone then back up to me. "There's an orientation for new students then. You're coming with me, right?"

Callie being a new student as well provided me with an unusual comfort. I was almost glad she didn't have other friends she could run off and ditch me for. 

"Of course I'll go," I replied, taking the last swig of my Coke before tossing it into the trash. 

We stepped out of the room a moment later, into a hallway that was filled with chatter. Most parents were gone; very few were still helping their daughters unpack. Girls were reuniting with friends they probably hadn't seen since the previous school year. 

Something strange happened when we closed the door behind us though. The chattering in the hallway nearly halted and the sound of creaking hardwood floors from people's footsteps seemed to still. Callie and I both glanced up curiously, surprised to find the majority of eyes were on us. 

Murmurs started back up at once and my confusion displaced me for a moment before I was able to pick up on a few of the words the girls were saying:

"I can't believe they are making them stay in that room..."

"...room 226? No way..."

"I don't even like being on the same hall...."

"...I could never stay in that dorm."

Callie and I blinked at each other, and I pondered asking the closest girl what was going on, but she quickly moved away, like she didn't even want to be near me. 

I shrugged, absolutely befuddled. Callie mirrored my reaction and we shared a glance as we ignored the girls and walked towards the end of the hall. 

I could handle Grandover... Couldn't I? 

***


Please tell me what you think about it so far! 

–Jamie :)
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#2 Pretty.Odd.

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Posted 16 June 2013 - 03:08 PM

So I'm on my iPod right now, and it's a pain in the butt to type on here because I'm challenged that way. :P I would be typing you a nice big comment as we speak (because this totally deserves one), but it would take a painfully long time. I get home in three days, do I'll have my laptop again then. For now, you get the abbreviated version:

I. Love. This. Your writing is so freaking good. It was all smooth and interesting and funny. The perfect intro. I am already hooked and can't wait to read more! Again, sorry this is short. It deserves better because it's so good. Post more ASAP, please. :)

xoxoArtemis
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#3 24moon100

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Posted 17 June 2013 - 12:36 AM

My insides just crumbled into teeny tiny, overexcited breadcrumbs when I spotted the title of this story displayed in the writing section. Forgive me if I take a few recomposing moments to gander at one of my newfound sources of joy...

 

:hyper:  :hyper:  :hyper:  :hyper:  :hyper:  :hyper:

 

It's such a wonderful sight to see your name on the board again, Jamie, back and writing like a crazy genius! Seriously. Haha. Just in time, too, in light of our site's new renovation. ;)

 

Right off the bat I'd just like to comment on the incredibly awesome and amusing relationship Sam and her father partake in. There's that witty banter I've been waiting for. Lol. Brings me back... *Sighs happily*

 

Grandover Academy... Grandover Academy... The more I say it the more it sounds perfect.  :heartbeat:​ 

 

So, anyway, this idea looks really freaking promising! I love the boarding school angle. It reminds me of Harry Potter a little. Haha. You know, kids left to roam the impressive school premises in search of the next adventure/mystery. That sort of thing. At least that's what my mind drifts to. I also think of a few other boarding school and college-set movies/books to help me visualize the scene. The Heather Wells series being one of them. :P

 

I just realized how insanely dorky that all probably sounded to you...

 

It is eating at me to know what's so dang special about dorm 226. Coincidentally, I just watched an episode of Suite Life of Zack and Cody the other day and it was the one with the haunted room 613 and I immediately had to make a connection. :D

 

And now for the burning question: will I be expecting any attractive young fellows to make an appearance soon? I must know this kind of thing. 

 

By the way, love the banner. It really depicts the story nicely. You got to tell me what you used to edit that thing.

 

After he finished reading he glanced up and grimaced. "The ‘plenty of free time’ thing makes you sound like a giant loser."

 

 

And

 

"Do you think they'd be pissed if I pissed in the shrubs?" my dad asked, shifting on the bench and staring uncomfortably at the rose bushes in front of us. We were waiting in the gardens just outside of the Headmasters office and Dad apparently had to take a leak. 

"They look like nice roses," I commented in lieu of reply. 

"I kind of have to take a number two, too."

"The level of comfort you have when telling me this sort of stuff is just a notch too high." 

 

 

Have I mentioned that I adore her dad? I hope he makes frequent appearances throughout this story. I like how, for a professional soccer player, he's not all stuck up and rather funny/quirky instead. 

 

Again, this is fantastic. Please have some sense and post soon, m'kay? I'm a very impatient person, so keeping me on my toes would just be downright cruel. 

 

I expect great things from you, Jamie. [Pauses for dramatic effect.] Great things.

 

—MEG


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#4 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 17 June 2013 - 11:21 AM

Her dad is hilarious.


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#5 Meg_Rulz

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Posted 18 June 2013 - 04:53 AM

Oh My God!! This is so awesome! Your writing style is just like Meg ! :spinstar:  :icon_biggrin:  :m:


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#6 Jcrazy

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Posted 19 June 2013 - 10:46 PM

Artemis: AHH, hi! Don't ever feel bad about giving short comments, just knowing someone's reading is awesome enough for me! But thank you for the "perfect intro" comment. I wrote the first half of the chapter with absolutely nothing on my mind but "a cool soccer player dad" and "a gay tour guide." There was never meant to be a story, but, well, here we are. Haha. Anyway, thanks again. 

Meg: Oh how I've missed your comments :) Reading it again just put a giant smile on my face. So, firstly, thank you so much. And I am really enjoying the boarding school angle as well ;) It's something I never really thought about writing until I randomly began this. And oh my gosh the Suite Life of Zach and Cody...I miss that show do bad haha. That episode freaked me out the first time I watched it. And HECK YES you can expect a handsome young fella to show up! Very very soon in fact ;) I actually made the banner with some app I have that blends pictures. It's called just "photo blender" I think. Ahh how I also missed the "Meg quotes her favorite lines" part of the comment :D haha. Thanks girllll. 

BonkersBookworm78: Ha, thank you! 

Meg_Rulz: Hey, thanks! :) That's an awesome compliment. 


Okay, update!!! A lot is said in this chapter. I hope you guys like it. 


Chapter Two
History of a Mystery in US History

Similar whispers and stares occurred when Callie and I returned that night and when I left for class the next morning. I had no clue what was so interesting about me, Callie, or the room, but we seemed to be a topic of interest for the girls on our hall. 

I ignored it, but planned to ask one of them what they were freaking out about later in the day, even if I had to drag it out of them. 

Currently I was maneuvering around the giant campus, staring down at a map and schedule I had been given the night before. The sun was beating down, and my backpack felt heavy and like it was riding my tank top up. I pulled my blonde hair out from under the bags straps where it was sticking to my skin. 

My first class was US History, of course. It's not like I hated history, history just hated me. It was strictly memorization, something I tended to struggle with. 

I found the history building after some hunting, then made it to the classroom on the second floor just as the bell rang. Grandover had set class times for all students, but class breaks lasted thirty minutes. I assumed it probably took that long to get from one end of the campus to the other. 

Most of the seats were taken, so I settled into an empty desk at the front of the room. 

"That's her," I heard someone say in what they must have thought was a quiet voice. "She and another girl have room 226..."

I glanced over my shoulder, finding a girl whom I vaguely recognized from my hall. She was staring at me as well as the guy she had spoken to. When she noticed my gaze on her, she quickly redirected her attention to the boy. 

I sighed loudly, pulling a binder and pencil from my backpack and listening as the teacher—a man with a tie named Mr. Henry—passed out a syllabus. 

"I give my students a citizenship test as a simple measure of your knowledge," he said a few minutes after introductions and classroom expectations. "It doesn't count for a grade, you can work with someone else, ask questions. I'll give you all thirty minutes."

I didn't know anyone and it was awkward as hell as I glanced around at people pairing off or getting into small groups with their friends. Don't get me wrong, I was a social person in most situations. But when I didn't know a single soul, I was sort of at a loss. 

Ten minutes in, I was still struggling to make it through the first page alone. My concentration was shot and I found myself thinking about the girl a few rows back and everyone else on my hall. 

What was it about my dorm room? From what I had gathered, the room definitely held a negative connotation to everyone at the school. But what would make a group of students view something as simple as a room with such disdain? 

A chair squeaking against the hardwood floors pulled me from my reverie and I glanced up at a curly haired boy with a pencil behind his ear. He sat down and leaned his elbows down on my desk.

"Hey, do you need any help?" he asked, plucking the pencil from behind his ear and spinning my paper to face him. He glanced between me and the paper with a casual smile and a gleam of curiosity coloring his dark brown eyes. 

How sad was this? Was it really that obvious to a random student in the class that I was that bad at history?

"Um, sure," I replied carefully. "But it's okay, really, you don't have to—"

"It's fine," he interrupted. "I'm the peer helper; it's required."

I looked at him in confusion. "The what helper?"

He grinned slowly before saying, "Let me guess. You're new?"

I nodded. 

"Peer helper," he began. "Lots of seniors drop a class their first or second semester, but in exchange they have to sit in on another class and help students or the teacher. Are you a senior? You should look into it. It's great."

I shook my head slowly. "Nope. Junior. But thanks for the heads up." In my mind, I was betting Dad would get restless before my senior year and we'd be somewhere new. 

"No problem," the peer helper said, shrugging his shoulders. His eyes flashed back up to mine and whenever they met mine he seemed to slightly smile. Was there something on my face? 

My worried thought was interrupted by him speaking again. 

"So, you're the girl in 226, right?"

Of freaking course. Was my room number the only thing that was going to strike anyone's interest at Grandover?

"Yeah," I answered him, then cleared my throat. I might as well use the opportunity to my advantage, I thought. "About that... What the hell is so special about that room?"

His expression immediately was overtaken by confusion, then absolute surprise. 

"Wait. You don't know?" 

I shook my head. 

"Holy crap, I was wondering how they had suckered anyone into staying in that room. Duh. They didn't tell you."

He seemed immersed in his breakthrough, so I waved my hand in front of his face, saying, "Well, hey, I'd like to know. I felt like the people on my hall were avoiding me like the plague when I stepped out of my room this morning. What the heck is it?"

He took a breath before grimacing, like he didn't even want to begin telling me, but after a moment he shook his head and began speaking again. 

"Okay, so...room 226." He paused. "Last year, this new girl started here. Her name was Whitney Anderson. She was smart, overly polite, and freakin' gorgeous if I'm being absolutely honest. But she was really reserved and sort of distant. She was close with her roommate, but not really anybody else. Most people figured she was just shy."

"And this girl...Whitney? She lived in room 226?" I asked. 

"Yeah, she did," he confirmed. "But, anyway. She started getting increasingly distracted and even more of a loner. People should have noticed, but...well, they didn't. Not until after the fact."

"After...?" I said, leaning closer to him. 

"Near the end of the school year, her roommate walked in her room and started screaming, calling for someone to help. A bunch of guys and girls that were hanging on the hall ran to see what was wrong." The way he swallowed here made me guess he was one of people. "Anyway, long story short, she was dead. She had killed herself, right there in the dorm."

My stomach clenched, even though the way the story was going, I had anticipated as much. But still, the words she had killed herself didn't settle well. 

And it wasn't that she had killed herself in my dorm room. That part wasn't even weighing in on my emotion yet. Just the fact that that had happened to anyone, anywhere, was what got to me. 

"Gonna have trouble sleeping now?" the guy—it hit me I didn't even know his name yet—asked, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere his story had created. 

"I'll be fine." I shrugged. "I mean, sure, it's not ideal, but it's not like there are blood stains on the floor." I cringed at my uncensored words. 

He gave me a curious look. "Really? I think that would bother me."

I shrugged. "My dad and I once spent a week in a haunted house played a real life version of Clue. My room was next to the crime scene. Go figure, I kind of got immune to creepy noises and people trying to freak me out."

He smiled slightly. "Cool. I guess it's just a personal preference." He hesitated. "I think that's why most people are afraid of the room...but, uh, it's stupid. But there was a rumor going around at the end of the school year last semester that...well, that the room was haunted."

I gave him a funny look. "Haunted?"

Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, Mr. Henry clapped his hands and announced that we should be headed back to our seats. I glanced at my nearly empty worksheet, then back up to my "peer helper."

"Later," he promised as he stood from my desk, and I didn't know if he was talking about the work or my apparent haunted dorm room, but I nodded. "I'm Logan, by the way."

"Sam," I mumbled back as Mr. Henry hushed the class once again. 

Logan smiled... And I think I had made a friend. 

***

"So do the have single or double ply toilet paper in the bathrooms? Serious question. I know how you like your double ply."

I pressed my phone closer to my ear, hoping the group of guys to my left hadn't just heard my dad. 

"I think it's double," I answered, shaking my head and resisting a laugh. "God, Dad."

"What? I just want to make sure you're happy there."

"And since when is my happiness determined by toilet paper thickness?" I asked, lowering my voice to a whisper. 

"Since forever! And why are you whispering? I can barely hear you," he said, and the mocking and childish tone in his voice made me miss him. It had only been a day and I already wanted him to come visit, though I wouldn't say it. 

"I'm outside. Sitting on a bench. My next class doesn't start for another fifteen minutes and coincidentally my second and third blocks are right next to each other," I said, shrugging my backpack off my shoulders and sitting it onto the cobblestone sidewalk that led up to the English building where my next class was. 

"What was second block?" he asked. We had already discussed my hatred for first block US history.

"Chemistry," I replied. "Teacher was cool. I ate a cookie from the vending machine. It was a nice hour."

"There're cookies in the vending machine?" Of course this was the only thing he had heard. 

"Fresh baked cookies."

"How's that possible?"

"That's Grandover for you," I said simply. 

The urge to tell him about all Logan had just told me was there, but I didn't want him to worry. I could imagine him calling up to the school, yelling at the headmaster for putting me in a room a girl had died in just months before. 

"Kid, I've gotta go. I'm getting another call. But call me or text me or tweet me or Facebook me or something me later on, okay?"

I told him I would and slid my phone into my bag before glancing up. I immediately caught sight of Callie, walking in the opposite direction, an armful of books. I thought about rushing after her, walking with her before class started, but she looked surprisingly  busy and I decided not to bother her. My mind drifted back to first block, and I thought of Mr. Henry's peer helper. 

Logan had promised me "later" but after class he had rushed off before I could find out more about my supposedly haunted room. It crossed my mind that he could have just been trying to freak me out, but he didn't strike me as the type. 

I shrugged my shoulders in the summer heat and relaxed against the bench, trying to rid my mind of all the crazy thoughts and calm down before my class began. 

"Do I know you?"

The guys voice behind me made me turn around. He was staring at me and the intensity of his gaze immediately had me startled. 

"Uh, I don't..." I began, looking up at him. I definitely didn't know him, but I didn't know what to say. His stare was beyond weird and I found myself looking away momentarily. 

"Never mind," he quickly muttered, then turned and briskly began walking away. 

I started to say "wait," but he kept walking, faster even. I shook my head, running my hands over my face and sighing loudly. 

What the hell was with this school? 

***



Tell me what you think :)
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#7 24moon100

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Posted 20 June 2013 - 04:46 AM

Eeeeeeep! I'm reading this first chance I get today! I've already spent all the energy I had left on writing the first chapter of my own story. Note that it is almost 5 in the morning... Yay! I'm so excited to read!


Edited by 24moon100, 20 June 2013 - 04:47 AM.

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#8 Meg_Rulz

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Posted 20 June 2013 - 06:20 AM

This so cool! My favourite line -

"It's not like I hated history, history just hated me."

Simply fabulous! :spinstar:  :user: 


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#9 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 20 June 2013 - 12:01 PM

 

And since when has the happiness of my life determined on toilet paper thickness

Toilet paper thickness! 

That says it all - utter brilliance.


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#10 24moon100

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Posted 24 June 2013 - 05:08 AM

Chapter two has exceeded my expectations. It was perfect. As per usual. No surprise there. :P

 

Sorry for the delay. This week is my last week to spend time with my German exchange student before she goes back to Germany so all my computer time has been shorted (I always have some new excuse don't I? Ugh, I'm a mess). I've managed to read this though because I knew I said I would and I really really wanted to. To heck with sleep! Haha. 

 

Yeah. I've kinda been getting into some nasty sleeping habits lately...

 

Firstly, I'm sensing Logan is the attractive young fellow we discussed? Yes? Please?

 

I really like him. And not just because he is male and a possible romantic arc to the story. He genuinely seems cool and pretty laid back I think. And, curly (is it dark or light? Please tell me it's dark) hair. That reminds me of Paul. Lol. Yeah, you can laugh. I know I'm pathetic.

 

Add blue eyes and I'll be as good as gone. ;)

 

Haha. I thoroughly enjoyed the phone call with her dad! I asked for more pappy time and you delivered. Thank you. But seriously. I absolutely love her dad, okay?

 

I know this has been said enough, but whatever, you are hearing it again. Your writing is just so effortless-looking, Jamie. It flows wonderfully and is really coherent. You also have a great (as my English teacher would say) economy of words. You are seriously beyond your years. I don't think I can ever get over how unique your dialogue is, though. It's so good I have a special voice in my head specifically designated for your dialogue. 

 

YES. So we finally get to know what effing happened in Sam's room. Not everything though. I know there is more to the story, but at least we are getting somewhere. Lol. I'm intrigued to see where you take this mystery here, Jamie. I wonder why that Whitney girl supposedly killed herself. Questions. Questions. 

 

BUT NOW WHO THE F IS THE RANDOM DUDE AT THE END? Like whaaaaat. That was weird. 

 

I think my favorite parts were a tie between: 

 

"So do the have single or double ply toilet paper in the bathrooms? Serious question. I know how you like your double ply."

I pressed my phone closer to my ear, hoping the group of guys to my left hadn't just heard my dad. 

"I think it's double," I answered, shaking my head and resisting a laugh. "God, Dad."

"What? I just want to make sure you're happy there."

"And since when is my happiness determined by toilet paper thickness?" I asked, lowering my voice to a whisper. 

 

 

and

 

"Kid, I've gotta go. I'm getting another call. But call me or text me or tweet me or Facebook me or something me later on, okay?"

 

 Hilarious. That is all I have to say.

 

Now that you have me hooked, Jamie, you must finish this story. There is no option anymore. But for now you have to at least update. 

 

All right. Goodnight. I'm about to pass out now. 

 

—MEG


Edited by 24moon100, 24 June 2013 - 05:11 AM.

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#11 Pretty.Odd.

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Posted 28 June 2013 - 09:18 AM

I'm really sorry that I haven't gotten around to commenting on this like I said I would. D: I promise I will soon. I've read it and I seriously love it, but I just haven't been productive enough to write you a comment and tell you how much I love it. :P My plan is to get it done this weekend. Sorry again!

 

xoxoArtemis


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#12 Jcrazy

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Posted 08 July 2013 - 11:42 AM

Meg_Rulz: Aw, thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it :) 

BonkersBookworm78: Haha thanks for reading! I know, that line was so weird, but it totally something I would say :D

Meg: THAAAANKS :) Hehe no need to apologize about replying late, I do it all the time too. I'm with you on the crazy sleeping schedule though. :P And yay yes, Logan is our attractive young fellow!! I have some cool things planned for his character. And "economy of words;" I really like that :) Thank you. The mystery will all be revealed in time! 

Artemis: You're totally fine, man. Haha. I suck at replying more than you know. So long as I know people are reading, that is good enough for me!

*

Okay, new chapter! Sorry it took forever. I feel like its a slower chapter, but everything that happens is key to future events. 

*

Chapter Three
It's Nice to Meet You

After dinner in the Cafe, I headed back to my dorm room. Luckily there was no one meandering in the halls and I was able to unlock my door without receiving scrutiny from everyone. Inside, Callie was working on her homework. 

She took a brief break and we discussed both of our days. It was easy talking to her and I discovered she had learned as much as I had about our room over the day. 

It was getting late, so after I Googled the answers to my citizenship test for US History and went over a few problems for Calculus, I went to bed. 

Callie and I had breakfast together the next morning in the Cafe. The meals the day before had been awesome, much better than anything Dad could have cooked. It was like eating out for every meal and I found myself easily adjusting to that part of Grandover. 

I found my first class much easier than the previous day. Callie and I parted ways and I made it into history with time to spare. A few students were already seated and I noticed Logan sitting in a desk that seemed separated from the rest, towards the back of the class. I assumed this was the case for most "peer helpers," having noticed seniors in my other classes in similar positions as him.

He noticed me as well and smiled. I returned it before sitting in the same seat as I had the day before. Not thirty seconds had passed before the bell rang and the remainder of students filtered in. 

"Okay," Mr. Henry began. His tie was green today and his eyes looked tired behind his glasses. "Today we will be discussing the—"

His words were immediately interrupted by the classroom telephone ringing. Frustration at already being interrupted read clear across his face as he answered the phone. 

"Samantha McPherson," he said, looking at me as he put the phone down after taking the call. "You're needed in the headmasters office. Take your things."

Confused, but not all that surprised considering how things had been going for me at Grandover so far, I stood up, grabbed my bag from the place on the floor, and exited the room. Lots of curious eyes were on me as I left. 

I had to take out my map from the day before to figure out where the hell the Headmasters office even was. It turned out it was only a few buildings down from the history one, for which I was grateful. I was not in a mood for a twenty minute hike across campus. 

I walked into the impressive building and was hit with a welcoming blast of air conditioning. There was a secretary desk in the room I had entered. I walked up to it and patiently waited for the older lady sitting at it to acknowledge me. 

"Oh, hello, dear. How can I help you?" She asked after she was alerted of my presence. She smiled softly and I relaxed. 

"My name's Sam McPherson. Mr. Henry got a call that the headmaster wanted to see me...?" I spoke, sounding unsure and befuddled even to my own ears. 

"Of course, of course," the lady said. "Third door on the left—" she pointed down a hallway to my right "—he's expecting you. Just walk right in."

The floors creaked with age as I walked on them and the door that she directed me towards was marked with a gold plaque, reading "Headmaster Stanley's Office.”

Good to know his name before I talked to him. 

I pushed the door open and was relieved when I saw Callie there, sitting in front of a large desk. Behind the desk sat a man in his late fifties with a shiny bald head and pale skin. He was thin and I was well aware that he must have been tall even though he was seated. His gaze flicked from Callie to me at the sound of the door opening and I was met with incredibly light blue eyes surrounded by blonde eyelashes. 

"Samantha," he said, a grin overtaking his face. I detected an accent. Was it British? His enthusiasm was unexpected and I'm sure he could tell I was surprised as I took a seat next to Callie in front of his impressive desk. 

"Hi, it's nice to meet you," I said carefully, watching as he folded his hands on his desk and regarded both Callie and I with a joyous expression. 

"Oh, of course! It's wonderful to meet the two of you as well." Yep, British. 

Callie and I shared a glance. She looked about as curious as I felt. 

"Are we...are we in trouble?" Callie asked hesitantly. 

Headmaster Stanley instantly started laughing, as if the two of us being in trouble was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. Slowly and awkwardly, Callie and I began laughing with him. 

"God no, you're not in trouble," he said a moment later. "I simply called you both in to discuss an issue I saw arising on campus. I had hoped it would have settled down over summer, but it appears to still be fascinating the students."

"Our dorm room?" I guessed. 

He nodded at me. "Precisely. I assume you both have heard the story by now. How do you girls feel about it?"

"Um." Callie shrugged. "It was an awful thing. What happened to the girl, I mean. I can't imagine how upset some of the students must have been."

The headmaster nodded in agreement. "It was a tragedy. What I was wondering, really, was if you were both okay with continuing to live in the room? After learning of what happened?"

Callie and I shared yet another glance. 

"I, uh, am okay with it. I guess," she said. She glanced at me for conformation. 

I nodded. "I think I'll be fine staying there, Headmaster. We're already settled in. It just seems easiest."

All I said was true, but I also didn't want to give any of the girls on my hall the satisfaction of watching us move out of the room. 

Headmaster Stanley seemed excited with our decision and I was  pleased to find that the man in charge of Grandover was apparently a nice guy. His attitude made me feel like he actually cared and I felt like I could trust him easily, even having only known him for a few minutes. 

The thought crossed my mind to mention the weird occurrence from the day before, when the boy had walked up and suspiciously asked if he knew me. But I was pretty sure that must have been unrelated to what we were discussing, so I dropped it. 

Headmaster Stanley ended up keeping us there for a while, discussing how we were liking our classes and teachers. Before any of us knew it, the bell signaling the end of the the days first class was ringing all throughout the campus. 

He wrote us a note to give our teachers the next day, along with an apology for monopolizing our time. In all honesty though, I couldn't have been happier about missing an hour of US History. 

"That was weird," Callie said simply as we walked in the direction of our second block. She had an art class next, which happened to be in the building beside my Chemistry class. 

"Tell me about it," I agreed, nodding my head. "I know the room wouldn't have been number one on my list, but I can deal with it. Everyone else just needs to stop freaking out."

"Exactly." She shrugged her shoulders and hesitated before glancing at me with big brown eyes. "It is sort of weird if you think about it though. I mean...you aren't the least bit freaked out?"

"Are you?"

She shrugged again. "In a way. Not to the point where I don't want to stay there, but it's just kinda creepy if you think about it too hard, you know?"

"I guess I see what you mean," I said. But I really didn't. 

We parted ways when I got to my next class, which I admittedly spent the majority of wondering who I could ask about for more information about my "haunted" room. 

***

"Sam."

I turned around at the sound of my name. I had been busy saying "yes" to every lunch lady when they asked me if I would like something. A chicken sandwich? Sure. Two servings of fries? Absolutely. Pudding cup? Why the hell not?

"Oh, hey," I said, when I recognized the person who said my name. 

"Hey." Logan smiled. "How are you?" 

"Great. Fantastic. Do you see my lunch?" I gestured to the tray of food in front of me as I scooted out of someone's way. "How could I not be doing well?"

He laughed. "Understood. Even if you hate this school, you can always count the food as its one redeeming quality."

I nodded in agreement as I grabbed a water and headed to pay. Logan walked next to me. 

"So I have what you missed in history," he said as I handed the man in front of me my card. 

I groaned, glancing up at him. 

"I thought I'd gotten out of doing any history for the day," I explained when he looked surprised. 

His expression changed to amusement. 

"Not your favorite subject?" he guessed. 

"Not at all." I grabbed my tray and stepped out of the path of the next student. Logan and I stood semi-awkwardly by the first lunch table. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's my favorite." He grinned when I gave him a why-in-the-world look. "But anyway, here's the stuff." He handed me the papers he had been gripping in his left hand. I slipped them under the tray. "It's basic. It can be Googled, if I'm being honest. But I'd look over it. He'll probably give you a quiz tomorrow."

"Thanks," I said gratefully. If anyone needed a heads up for a history quiz, it was me. "But are you supposed to just go around spreading that information? I would think that would go against the peer helper handbook."

"True. I should have my title revoked." 

I smirked at him as I moved again. I sat down at the closest table and he took the empty seat across from me. His eyes dropped to the massive amount of food on my tray, then back to my face. 

"So. Why'd you get called out of class this morning? Everything okay?" he asked. His genuine sounding concern made me smile. 

"Yeah, it's all good. It was just about my dorm room. Of course." I rolled my eyes. 

"Ah, yeah. How's that situation going?" 

"Honestly, kind of sucky. But I've got it handled," I assured him. He looked only partially convinced, so I changed the subject. "Hey, you don't have to sit with me. You can sit with your friends if you want to."

"They're in the line." He nodded towards where I had just been. "You can eat with us though. Unless you're waiting on someone else..."

I snorted. "Yeah, no. It's my second day. Kind of hard to have already made lunch buddies."

"Well, I'd be happy to be your lunch buddy."

His words made me grin and before I could thank him, a tray was being plopped down next to mine, one next to Logan, and one at the end of the table. I looked up, startled. 

"Hey, you guys," Logan said, and I immediately guessed these were his friends. "You guys, this is Sam. Sam, these are the guys."

The guys weren't actually guys. Well, one of them was. But the other two were girls. They each introduced themselves to me. 

The girl who had plopped down next to me was named Kennedy. She had red hair, fair skin, and was wearing a floral dress. Her appearance screamed I'm-innocent-and-adorable, but her personality was the exact opposite. She introduced herself with a fist bump, interrupted by a "What the hell, Danny?! Drop my pudding cup, you jerk!"

The Danny she was referring to was seated next to Logan. He was a fit black guy, dressing like he had someone to impress in a Polo and khakis. His smile was big and his teeth were perfectly white when he grinned after saying hello to me. 

The girl at the head of the table was Rachel. Her hair was dark, her eyes were framed in black rimmed glasses, and her lunch tray had a salad on it. She looked startled at the sight of my lunch. 

"It's nice to meet you guys," I said, trying my best to make a good first impression. I really needed some people at this school to like me. 

"Ditto." Kennedy nodded enthusiastically. "So awesome to meet you. Where'd Logan find you?"

Logan glared at her as she devoured her pudding cup and before I could answer, he answered for me. 

"She's in the class I'm peer helping."

"Oh, sweet," Danny said. "That's cool, isn't it, Rachel?"

The girl in the glasses glanced up from her salad. "Um. Sure." She looked back to her salad. 

Logan rolled his eyes at his friends. "Rachel's not very social," he explained after I glanced curiously at him. "And it's Danny's goal to get her to—what did you call it?"

"Find her inner social butterfly," he said, pointing a finger at Logan. 

"That sounds so gay," Kennedy mumbled under her breath. 

"I'm straight, dammit," Danny said, glowering in Kennedy's direction. He turned to me. "I'm very straight, I can assure you."

"I totally believe you," I said, smiling and nodding at him. "No worries."

Logan tried his best to redirect the conversation. "So, where is it you moved—"

"WAIT!" Kennedy's hands shot up in the air before stilling like she was having a breakthrough. "Are you Sam?" She looked at me. "Like, Sam McPherson? Like, Sam in room 226 McPherson?"

I grimaced. I had kind of hoped I would be able to keep that bit of information to myself if at all possible. 

"Um, yeah, I am." 

"That is freaking sweet!" Her thrilled expression confused me.

"I'm sorry?"

"I've been looking everywhere for you!" Kennedy offered no explanation. I looked at Logan helplessly, but he was staring at Kennedy as well. 

"Really?" I asked carefully. 

"Yes! Oh my God, you or Callie Monroe, actually. But either of you is awesome! I can't believe I found you." She enthusiastically took a sip from her Capri Sun. 

"Um. You could have tried my dorm room," I said, shrugging. 

She blinked. Once. Twice. Then finally: "I'm such a dumbass! God." She shook her head and looked frustrated, but then started laughing at herself, as if she had all of a sudden found the humor in the situation. 

I laughed with her. Mostly because she was freaking me out. 

"Anyway," she said after a moment. "I'm the editor or the Grandover Weekly paper and would kill for an interview." She flinched. "Ooh, probably not my wisest word choice there. But. Whatever. Can I count you in for an interview?"

It was my turn to blink. "You want to...interview me?"

"Duh."

"Why?"

"To talk about your dorm room, silly!" 

I tilted my head in confusion. "You want to... Wait, but why?"

"Everyone keeps talking about it. And about you and Callie Monroe. I think it's totally stupid how everyone is acting like the two of you had any say. I want to give you a voice," she explained, smiling encouragingly. 

"Uh." I flicked my gazes to everyone else at the table. Danny and Rachel were enjoying their lunches as if this was completely normal turn of events. Logan looked like he wanted to slap Kennedy, but he smiled weakly at me when I caught his eye. 

"Let me think about it," I said honestly, turning back to Kennedy. 

"Of course!" she said. "No rush, take your time. I'd love an interview whenever I could get one." She reached in her purse and before I knew it, she had scribbled her name and number on a scrap sheet of paper and handed it to me. 

"Again, anytime. I think everyone would love an interview from one of the girls in room 226." She smiled at me again. 

"Yeah." I nodded. "Maybe."


:)

Tell me what you think! 
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#13 Pretty.Odd.

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Posted 08 July 2013 - 05:08 PM

I OWE YOU A COMMENT. Like, big time. I’ve been awful, Jamie. Sorry. Every day I think, “Hey, today will be the day I’ll write that comment for Jamie!”

 

And then I never do.

 

But today I’m going to. I saw that you updated, and I don’t want to fall behind, so I have true motivation to comment now. :P Here’s what I’ve got (all quotes will be bolded because MCMB sucks and won’t let me quote all the things I want to quote):

 

First of all, I love it. Not exaggerating. I usually don’t go around saying I love things (it’s usually the opposite lol), so you take this as a nice compliment. I do not understand how you have such a great way with words. Everything always flows so nicely. As someone who writes super choppily, I am in extreme awe of how your writing works. Your transitions are always good, and you’ve always got the right words. Above all, this is the thing that stands out to me. You’re doing a lot of great stuff, but this is why impressed me and stood out to me most.

 

Since I’ve got so much to talk about here, I’m going to just pick something and go with it. Let’s start with the chapter title. The title for Ch. 2 made me smile. I had to read it twice because I was confused, and then I got it. I felt that it definitely set the tone for your chapter, if you know what I mean.

 

The actual chapter was great. It captured my interest right from the get-go and continued to do so for the rest of the chapter. I’m glad you introduced the big controversy with the Room 226 (catchy number, by the way) in such an early chapter. If you’d have dragged it out I would’ve been annoyed. You built suspense around discovering why it’s such a dreaded thing, and now you get to build suspense around the room itself. I also thought the way you introduced the creepy news was good.  

 

Speaking of which, I like where you went with the haunting. I’m such a sucker for that kind of thing. I used to hate anything even remotely close to horror, and now I love it. I doubt you’re turning this into a horror novel, but I’m just saying. I was pretty excited that the whole premise is a haunting. Lol.

 

I do think they kids are making way too big a deal out of it, though. I guess some people are really superstitious—and, when you think about it, it’s kind of disturbing. Places where people have killed themselves do have that ominous vibe (there’s a trail in a nearby town that I’ve walked down multiple times and it creeps me out because of what happened), so I guess I do sort of get it. It’s creepy, sure, but everyone is making a huge deal out of it.

 

Don’t take that as me having an issue with your writing. As a matter of fact, I think it’s perfect. It’s great exaggeration. It adds to the suspense you were (and I guess still are) building. It’s exactly how your average teenager would react to it. It’s realistic.

 

So. Carrying on. LOGANNN. I like this guy. A lot. (It might help a bit that my favorite character in the show I’m currently watching—“Veronica Mars”—is named Logan. Regardless, I’m a fan.) I liked how you wrote his dialogue. It stood out to me. Well done (againnn, haha).

 

I’m also pretty curious about the guy at the end. I felt angry when he didn’t elaborate. One of my major pet peeves is the whole “never mind” after you ask what someone said/meant. UGHHH. It even bothers me in writing…

 

Alrighty. Time for the next compliment on your writing. This is something I noticed waaaay back when you were working on Chasing Delilah, and I just noticed it again now. I think it’s awesome how you’re not afraid of the short paragraphs. I hate when people say that a paragraph “must be x-amount of sentences to be considered a real paragraph.” That’s such crap. You’ve got lots of nice and small paragraphs, and as a believer in the short-n-sweet paragraph, I applaud you. Sometimes one sentences is all you need. Being concise goes a lot farther than being wordy does (says the wordiest person ever).

 

"Samantha McPherson," he said, looking at me as he put the phone down after taking the call. "You're needed in the headmasters office. Take your things."

 

I feel bad for her. She’s been so nonstop for the past day or two. First you’ve got this haunted room business sprung on you, and then you get called to the headmaster’s office to talk about it some more. It never ends, does it? (FYI, there should be an apostrophe in “headmasters,” since it’s his office. :))

 

Bonus points for giving the headmaster a British accent. You know how I love my British TV. :P

 

I’m very interested by the new characters you’re introducing. You know characters are my favorite part of writing. Logan’s friends all seem very intriguing. (More bonus points because one of them is named Kennedy. That’s my younger sister’s name. :) I said her name was Katie on here before, but that was because I still wanted to be sort of anonymous. Anyway, I was pretty happy when I saw that.)

 

CC (because a true comment isn’t complete without some, haha):

 

There were a few typos I noticed (if you want me to, I’ll point them out since it really does help with future editing, but I don’t know what you like in a comment. I know I like it, but I don’t want to seem nit-picky to you. I will next time if you say so), but nothing that was hard to interpret. One thing I did notice was that—and this might be nothing than Artemis’s guessing again—sometimes I think you need commas between bits of your sentences. (I sound super technical here, don’t I?) Like this, for example:

 

His gaze flicked from Callie to me at the sound of the door opening and I was met with incredibly light blue eyes surrounded by blonde eyelashes.

 

There were some instances like this where I’m pretty sure a comma would be needed. Seeing as my English education has been pretty self-taught thus far, I could be wrong. But I thought I’d throw that out there since I kept noticing it.

 

QUOTES:

 

It's not like I hated history, history just hated me. It was strictly memorization, something I tended to struggle with.

 

This is exactly why I hate history. I’m actually good at memorizing stuff (when you go to private school, you learn to be good at it), and I still can’t do it. The actual learning part isn’t bad; some of it’s really interesting and even exciting. But as soon as it comes to remembering what happened in what year and who did it, I’m done. It’s all the same to me.

 

Ew, sorry, I’m ranting about myself again (I do this so much in comments and feel bad because I know nobody really cares). I just think you hit the nail right on the head there. The worst part of history is the freaking memorization…

 

“So do the have single or double ply toilet paper in the bathrooms? Serious question. I know how you like your double ply."

I pressed my phone closer to my ear, hoping the group of guys to my left hadn't just heard my dad. 

"I think it's double," I answered, shaking my head and resisting a laugh. "God, Dad."

"What? I just want to make sure you're happy there."

"And since when is my happiness determined by toilet paper thickness?" I asked, lowering my voice to a whisper.

 

I love her dad. I know everyone’s already pointed out how awesome he is, but you need to hear it again. He’s got such a fun personality. You’ve given him some great lines. :D

 

I also loved how she was so worried that the boys could overhear her during that part. It’s so realistic, because I think all of us would do the exact same thing. Loved it.

 

"There're cookies in the vending machine?" Of course this was the only thing he had heard. 

"Fresh baked cookies."

"How's that possible?"

"That's Grandover for you," I said simply.

 

Another good one! :)

 

A chicken sandwich? Sure. Two servings of fries? Absolutely. Pudding cup? Why the hell not?

 

Love love love love loved this.

 

He laughed. "Understood. Even if you hate this school, you can always count the food as its one redeeming quality."

 

Awesome. :D

 

"True. I should have my title revoked."

 

Ha! I loved this one, too. You somehow make all your character super likable. I already love Logan (assuming he doesn’t spontaneously become an ass)—and I suppose I’d say the same about all the other characters. There are usually characters that rub me the wrong way or piss me off one way or another, but all of yours have been fine so far.

 

"Well, I'd be happy to be your lunch buddy."

 

Yup. Let’s talk about how much I love him again. I also really liked how he referred to his friends as simply “the guys.” :)

 

 “I'm straight, dammit," Danny said, glowering in Kennedy's direction. He turned to me. "I'm very straight, I can assure you.”

 

This almost might be my favorite. Super funny.

 

"Yes! Oh my God, you or Callie Monroe, actually. But either of you is awesome! I can't believe I found you." She enthusiastically took a sip from her Capri Sun. 

"Um. You could have tried my dorm room," I said, shrugging. 

She blinked. Once. Twice. Then finally: "I'm such a dumbass! God." She shook her head and looked frustrated, but then started laughing at herself, as if she had all of a sudden found the humor in the situation.

 

Bahaha. This was awesome.

 

So. After three chapters, I’m officially sold. I love the plot, the characters, the writing—the whole idea of it. It’s one of my favorite stories on here in a lonnng time. I’d be pretty happy if you were able to keep up the momentum you’ve got going right now. Each chapter has been interesting and insightful, adding to the story more and more. If you can keep doing that, I will be a very happy reader. :D

 

Basically, update ASAP. I know you said you’ve been having writer’s block, and I do get that, but I. WANT. MORE. I know I probably seem late to the bandwagon since I didn’t bother to write you an even halfway decent comment for a long time (sorry again), but you can be sure that I’m on it now. And you can also be sure that I will be awaiting your next update with extreme anticipation.

 

xoxoArtemis

 


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#14 Jcrazy

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Posted 08 July 2013 - 07:00 PM

Artemis: HOLY SHIIIIT YOU'RE AMAZING. 

First of all, I love it. Not exaggerating. I usually don’t go around saying I love things (it’s usually the opposite lol), so you take this as a nice compliment. I do not understand how you have such a great way with words. Everything always flows so nicely. As someone who writes super choppily, I am in extreme awe of how your writing works. Your transitions are always good, and you’ve always got the right words. Above all, this is the thing that stands out to me. You’re doing a lot of great stuff, but this is why impressed me and stood out to me most. 

No, that's you! I usually feel like my writing is very choppy. I spend a lot of my time writing trying to find different words to use because there are certain words I tend to find myself reusing (I always find myself saying "hesitantly" like every two seconds, lol). I feel like I'm transitioning from scene to scene well at this point, but sometimes I feel like conversations between my characters have awkward moments (?? Maybe it's just because I am awkward lol). But thank you for the compliment! Major confidence booster. :)

Since I’ve got so much to talk about here, I’m going to just pick something and go with it. Let’s start with the chapter title. The title for Ch. 2 made me smile. I had to read it twice because I was confused, and then I got it. I felt that it definitely set the tone for your chapter, if you know what I mean.
 
The actual chapter was great. It captured my interest right from the get-go and continued to do so for the rest of the chapter. I’m glad you introduced the big controversy with the Room 226 (catchy number, by the way) in such an early chapter. If you’d have dragged it out I would’ve been annoyed. You built suspense around discovering why it’s such a dreaded thing, and now you get to build suspense around the room itself. I also thought the way you introduced the creepy news was good.   

HAHA. As far as chapter titles go for this story, I'm making them random up to this point. My thought with the first chapter (welcome to room 226) was to pull a line from the chapter. Obviously I didn't do that with 2, but I sort of did with 3. 

I did NOT want to drag out the "secret" behind the room. I thought it would be unrealistic since she could simply ask someone ha. And funny story, I got the number by looking at the clock. "Oh, it's 2:26...oh, that's the number in using." Haha at least it wasn't 11:30 or something sucky when I was writing it. 


I do think they kids are making way too big a deal out of it, though. I guess some people are really superstitious—and, when you think about it, it’s kind of disturbing. Places where people have killed themselves do have that ominous vibe (there’s a trail in a nearby town that I’ve walked down multiple times and it creeps me out because of what happened), so I guess I do sort of get it. It’s creepy, sure, but everyone is making a huge deal out of it.

Yesss, I have a sort of similar haunted situation around where I live, and people really are superstitious about it. I'm actually a pretty superstitious person, but not in a way that I shy away from it. I usually walk straight into creepy situations for fun hah. I watched a marathon of "A Haunting" when I was at the beach once and it sparked my interest in creepy stuff. 

So. Carrying on. LOGANNN. I like this guy. A lot. (It might help a bit that my favorite character in the show I’m currently watching—“Veronica Mars”—is named Logan. Regardless, I’m a fan.) I liked how you wrote his dialogue. It stood out to me. Well done (againnn, haha).
 
I’m also pretty curious about the guy at the end. I felt angry when he didn’t elaborate. One of my major pet peeves is the whole “never mind” after you ask what someone said/meant. UGHHH. It even bothers me in writing… 

I've always loved the name Logan! I never really thought to use it before this though, not sure why. Yes, I have crazy stuff planning for Logan. 

YES THE GUY AT THE END. He was sort of added as a last minute thought that I realized tied into the story nicely. His appearance will all be explained in due time. Eventually. Maybe. Haha ;)

Alrighty. Time for the next compliment on your writing. This is something I noticed waaaay back when you were working on Chasing Delilah, and I just noticed it again now. I think it’s awesome how you’re not afraid of the short paragraphs. I hate when people say that a paragraph “must be x-amount of sentences to be considered a real paragraph.” That’s such crap. You’ve got lots of nice and small paragraphs, and as a believer in the short-n-sweet paragraph, I applaud you. Sometimes one sentences is all you need. Being concise goes a lot farther than being wordy does (says the wordiest person ever). 

AMEN. Being able to say what you mean in a condensed way can come across much better in certain stories I think. Don't get me wrong, sometimes a longer explanation is a better explanation. Same goes with descriptions and all that. But, then, sometimes it's not. Semantics. 

There were a few typos I noticed (if you want me to, I’ll point them out since it really does help with future editing, but I don’t know what you like in a comment. I know I like it, but I don’t want to seem nit-picky to you. I will next time if you say so), but nothing that was hard to interpret. One thing I did notice was that—and this might be nothing than Artemis’s guessing again—sometimes I think you need commas between bits of your sentences.  

Any thing you want to point out is great! I know it can be tedious to point out every small grammar or spelling mistake, so if you'd rather just point out any larger errors that would be awesome. All is welcome though!! I was actually questioning myself with commas in a few sentences in chapters 2& 3 as well. 

 This is exactly why I hate history. I’m actually good at memorizing stuff (when you go to private school, you learn to be good at it), and I still can’t do it. The actual learning part isn’t bad; some of it’s really interesting and even exciting. But as soon as it comes to remembering what happened in what year and who did it, I’m done. It’s all the same to me.

I LOVE HISTORY!! Haha, I like memorizing and I find history super fascinating. Sometimes it tops english as my favorite subject if I have a good teacher. US History was my favorite history class ever. I had a teacher who didn't give a crap about dates, just about learning WHAT happened, not WHEN. So clearly Sam and I are not at all the same person...

So. After three chapters, I’m officially sold. I love the plot, the characters, the writing—the whole idea of it. It’s one of my favorite stories on here in a lonnng time. I’d be pretty happy if you were able to keep up the momentum you’ve got going right now. Each chapter has been interesting and insightful, adding to the story more and more. If you can keep doing that, I will be a very happy reader.  

AHH you're awesome :) Thanks so much for everything you just said... It meant bunches to me. Seriously, you rock. THANKYOUUUUUU. 
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#15 Meg_Rulz

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Posted 09 July 2013 - 10:23 AM

I couldn't agree more with Artemis

 

Most of the member of this forum are fab writers [like you], I wish I had enough creativity to do so....*sigh*

 

LOL

 

As usual, love it!


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#16 24moon100

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Posted 09 July 2013 - 10:41 PM

It's funny how you scared the sh*t out of me and said you had writers block then like a day later you've got chapter three up. Haha. Glad to know your writers block doesn't last that long. You had me worried there for a sec.

 

No dad this chapter, but more Logan. Hmm. I guess that works. ;)

 

Principle Stanley kind of reminded me a lot of the principle in She's The Man if you've ever seen that movie. Haha. Like a british version of him or something. You just said bald and enthusiastic and I thought—hey, sounds familiar! :P It doesn't take much for me to make connections if you haven't noticed. 

 

"Um. You could have tried my dorm room," I said, shrugging. 

 

 

The common sense of this made me laugh. Obviously her room number is not a secret there. 

 

I think it's great that History is Logan's favorite subject and hers isn't. Hers is English, right? I forget. Anyway, I think that it would've been almost cliche if they were to have the same favorite subject. You know what I mean?

 

Gosh. I want a cafeteria like Grandover has. 

 

Logan rolled his eyes at his friends. "Rachel's not very social," he explained after I glanced curiously at him. "And it's Danny's goal to get her to—what did you call it?"

"Find her inner social butterfly," he said, pointing a finger at Logan. 

"That sounds so gay," Kennedy mumbled under her breath. 

"I'm straight, dammit," Danny said, glowering in Kennedy's direction. He turned to me. "I'm very straight, I can assure you."

 

 

Haha. I like Danny. He sounds like a friendly dude and I hope he becomes better friends with Sam. Also I think Kennedy is pretty cool too. 

 

I like how the group is really diverse and each person has a pretty distinct personality. 

 

Sam needs to figure out who that random guy was though. It's bothering me. 

 

Update soon! :D

 

—MEG

 

 


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#17 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 10 July 2013 - 11:46 AM

I enjoyed reading this chapter, I feel as if everything that needs to be said has been, so I am going to be lazy. Please update soon ( sorry again.) I will try to write something better, when I am not overheated and irritable.

Millie May


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#18 Jcrazy

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Posted 15 July 2013 - 01:04 AM

Meg_Rulz: Ah, thank you! All the writers on this site are so talented. You should give it a go :) 

Meg: Haha, I know. Sometimes writers block last an hour and sometimes in last a week. Glad it wasn't that long ;) LOL at your She's the Man comparison. I love that movie so much and can see where you drew the comparison from. :D I don't think I've mentioned Sam's favorite subject. I think I was going to make it math though lol, I dunno. More about Logan's friends is in the next chapter! Thanks Meg :)

BonkersBookworm78: Thank you! It means a lot to me that you're enjoying it :)

*

AYYYYYE. Next chapter! It's sort of shorter, sorry about that. It's also just barely edited and a good portion of it was written on pain killers, so that's my excuse if it sucks :P Hope y'all like it. 



Chapter Four 
Still Here 


"Sorry about that."

I glanced over at Logan and he looked sheepish. The sunlight on his head made me notice the reddish color that blended into his dark and curly hair. I smiled. 

"What do you mean?" I asked, picking up my pace a bit. His friends—all of which I really did like—had kept me talking and I didn't want to be late for my next class. 

"My friends. They're kind of..." He grimaced. "Loud."

I laughed. "Yeah, maybe. But I like them. They were actually nice to me. They bothered to talk to me about things other than my dorm room," I pointed out. 

"Well, Kennedy was..." He trailed off, cupping the back of his neck with his hand and glancing at me quickly. His sheepishness was kind of endearing, and I wondered where it had come from. He had seemed self-assured when he had first spoken to me in history, and even just in the lunch line. 

"She actually made a valid argument." I shrugged. "It might do me some good to let her talk to me."

He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she wouldn't say anything negative about you, trust me. She's a really good writer too."

"How long have you guys known each other?" I asked. 

He let out a long whoosh of air. "A good while... I met Danny here when we started in sixth grade. He dated Kennedy for about five minutes in ninth grade and we've been friends with her ever since. Rachel started last year. She's kind of...blah. But fun, once you get to know her. She and Ken are tight."

I could tell they were all close by the way he spoke about them. His eyes flicked to someone who said hey to him when they passed by and he nodded. This had already happened twice on our short walk from the Cafe to my next class. Logan's reputation was already pretty clear to me—he was that likable guy that you couldn't resist smiling at when he walked by. 

"Well, I like your friends." I shrugged. 

"They liked you too. I was half worried they were going to send you running, but..."

A light bulb went off in my head. He was nervous his friends were going to scare me off. I smiled reassuringly at him. "Still here." 

He opened his mouth to speak again, but his words were cut short when someone rushed up from behind me and grabbed my arm. Logan looked warily at whoever it was. 

"Oh, hi, Callie," I said after I glanced over at her. She was smirking and looked over at Logan once before back to me curiously. 

"Oh." I found myself on the opposite side of introductions now. "Callie, this is my lunch buddy, Logan. Logan, this is my super awesome roommate, Callie."

They exchanged an awkward and amusing handshake, due to the fact I was between them and we were walking. 

"Guess what just happened?" Callie directed her attention to me after I laughed at Logan and her, her expression completely serious. 

"What?"

"Some guy—I don't even know who it was—just walked up to me and kept asking ‘do you know me? Do you know me?’ over and over again. What the hell, right?" Callie shook her in frustration. "This school's just freaky. Ugh. Or either I'm out of my mind..."

My eyebrows shut up as the familiarity of her situation corresponded with mine in my memory. I was on the same page as her—what the hell was with this school?

"No way." I shook my head. "That's...crazy."

"Right? I mean—"

"No, I mean it's crazy because the same thing happened to me yesterday."

She stared at me for a long moment, stopping in her tracks. Logan and I stopped with her. She blinked at me, then slowly and seriously said, "Are we being punked?"

I snorted out a laugh even though it shouldn't have been funny. "Uh. Doubtful."

"I'm serious." She looked around furiously, like she was searching for hidden cameras. "This school is absolutely insane. There's no way in hell this is normal." She looked to Logan. "Has this school always been so freaking crazy?"

Logan shook his head slowly. "It's usually pretty, uh, normal." 

She rolled her eyes and huffed out a sigh. "Well... I need some Starbucks." Then suddenly she had turned and was walking away from us. 

I turned to face a confused looking Logan a beat later. 

"So that's my roommate."

He let out a laugh. "I see."

"She's really nice..." I felt compelled to say. 

"Sam." Logan gave me a look, obviously realizing I was doing the same thing he had just done—I wanted him to like my roommate just like he had wanted me to like his friends. "Don't worry." He pointed at himself and repeated my words. "Still here."

***

My first three weeks at Grandover passed with surprising speed. I fell into a blissfully easy routine and found myself with a new group of friends, courtesy of my favorite peer helper and lunch buddy, Logan Lane. 

Rachel still seemed hesitant to accept me and sometimes I questioned if she even liked me at all, but Danny became my go-to guy if I needed a laugh. Kennedy ended up surpassing Callie as my best girl friend within a week after I let her interview me, but Callie made friends with a completely different group as well. 

I had agreed to an interview with Kennedy two days after her request. She met me at the Cafe for dinner one night and recorded our conversation there. That Friday, the school paper came out with my story on the cover. Our casualness and my obviously limited knowledge about room 226 did the trick. By the next week, I had been cut the slack I needed. Callie and I weren't being ignored by any of the girls on our halls and the whispers had seemed to cease. 

My dad continued to call me everyday and I had gone home every weekend so far. He seemed pleased, albeit sort of shocked, at how easily I appeared to have adjusted. 

"How's history going?" he asked one day when we were on the phone. 

I grimaced at his question, looking down at the notes that were on my lap. They looked like gibberish to me. Dates and names and laws all blending into one confusing mess of scribbles. 

I had bombed my first test. Logan had of course noticed and had since then been helping me with almost all my work in Mr. Henry's class. I was doing better, but still probably had a C average in the class. And making a C at Grandover was basically like making an F in normal school. 

"It's going better," I answered my dad honestly, brushing my hair behind my ear as the wind picked up. 

"Good to hear. Hey, how about dinner one night this week?" My "going better" was apparently enough for him to believe history was actually going okay. 

"Like, during the week?" I glanced up from the stands I was sitting on at the sound of a whistle. Players in pennies were maneuvering around the field, the coach hollering something at them from beside the goal. 

"Sure," Dad said. "Like Wednesday or something. I get bored in the week without you. Plus, I know how much you miss me."

I snorted at his words. "Right, Dad. But yeah, that'd be cool."

"Yeah. We'll go to the Olive Garden."

"Why can't you just say Olive Garden? Why the ‘the’?" I rolled my eyes and managed to catch Logan's eye on the field at the same moment. He was breathing hard, both his hands resting on his hips before reaching one up to wipe sweat from his forehead. He winked at me and I stuck my tongue out at him. 

"Because I can," my dad retorted like a five-year-old. "Anyway, I gotta go, kid. But the Olive Garden. Dinner. Wednesday at six. Got it?"

"Gotcha, Dad. Over and out."

Our conversation ended and about that time Kennedy's wedges clanked against the stands as she stalked up towards me, camera poised around her neck. 

"Get some good pictures?" I asked as she plopped down next to me. With Grandover's first boys soccer game of the season next week, the paper was publishing an article about how the team was busy with practices. Kennedy was working on the images that were to go with the story.

"I think so." She lifted the camera and started flicking through photo after photo. "Logan and Danny tried their hardest to look stupid though." 

I glanced back out towards the field where the team was doing some sort of drill. When Logan had first told me he played soccer, I laughed. I loved soccer; my dad had made sure of it at an early age, but I couldn't wait to tell him that everyone I made friends with apparently played. Logan and Danny were the best players on the team, and it turned out that when the girls season rolled around, both Rachel and Kennedy would be playing as well. 

This wasn't their first practice I had been to. I appreciated the game and a lot of people would sit in the stands in the evenings to watch the team prepare. Logan and Danny loved that I came to watch them and we would generally all grab dinner after they finished. 

"Are you coming to eat with us after this?" Kennedy asked after she had scrolled through all her pictures. 

I nodded. "Yeah, I might just meet you guys there though. I need to drop all my stuff off and get my card." I stood up, closing my books and pushing them into my backpack. "Meet you all in thirty?"

She nodded and I carefully made my way down the stands, walking through the grass and then back onto the cobblestone path. I passed the buildings my classes were in and found myself unintentionally smiling as I continued walking. 

Though my start at the school had been undeniably weird and confusing, I had already grown to love Grandover so much. Maybe it was the people, but there was something unexplainably different about the school that just drew me in. I found myself immersing in everything around me—the people, the classes, the clubs. I was thinking about trying out for soccer later in the year and I hadn't even played since middle school. Grandover was quickly becoming one of my favorite places that my dad and I had moved to. 

I climbed the stairs in the dorm to my hall. I pulled my key out of my bag, walking towards my room that everyone else hated, but I had become attached to. Just as I was putting the key into the lock, a murderous-sounding scream so loud I could hear it clear through the walls pierced my ears. The smile was wiped clean off my face as I realized where the scream was coming from. Room 226. 


***

So the next chapter should be interesting with an ending like that. Tell me what you think! 
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#19 Meg_Rulz

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Posted 15 July 2013 - 05:08 AM

Ooooh! Such an interesting ending! Sheer genius! I always wondered who's that creepy guy [the one who thinks he knows Sam and Callie].

Love it. UPDATE!


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#20 24moon100

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Posted 15 July 2013 - 08:23 AM

Can I go school at Grandover? Yes? Please? I don't even care if my dorm is haunted. That is something I'd be willing to overlook. I mean, God, it has it's own Starbucks! Could it be any better?

 

I don't mean to sound like a total girl here but: ohmyeffinggoshIloveloganshairitisoperdy! The streaks of red with the dark curls. Uh, I'm sorry, but—yum

 

This chapter was great. I really enjoyed the little walk with Logan and the fact that he was so determined for her to like his friends. I think it was cute how he showed a small glimpse of an insecure side. Makes him seem more like a human being. Lol. Sadly, guys aren't perfect in real life. They have to be a bit insecure sometimes. There must be a balance. Take Daoism for instance. There is no yin without some yang. That's not how the world works. At least, not in China it doesn't.

 

Sometimes, when I'm writing about guys, I forget that part. :P

 

Anyway, I'm sensing something budding here. Those kids are really hitting it off. Anyone with eyes, and in this case, an imagination can see that. Haha. 

 

The part when Logan meets her roommate and Sam gets all worried about him liking Callie exactly like he had with her and his friends. Priceless. :heartbeat:

 

I also have to point out that I find the lack of tension between the two quite refreshing. Unlike your last book, Chasing Delilah, where they had nothing but tension, I've noticed that Logan and Sam have developed a much breezier, easier relationship. They became friends right off the bat. I have to admit I was sort of expecting them to have that tension, like you had in CD, but this is new. I like it!

 

Maybe this means they'll actually get to kiss this time. ;)

 

Now I'm wondering about the random dude even more! First Sam, now Callie? That can't be a coincidence. Something is definitely up at Grandover. 

 

Did I mention how beautifully ironic Logan being on the soccer team is? I wonder if she's told him about her dad yet. 

 

She definitely needs to try out for soccer herself. I can 100% see her doing that. 

 

 

"Yeah. We'll go to the Olive Garden."

"Why can't you just say Olive Garden? Why the ‘the’?" I rolled my eyes and managed to catch Logan's eye on the field at the same moment. He was breathing hard, both his hands resting on his hips before reaching one up to wipe sweat from his forehead. He winked at me and I stuck my tongue out at him. 

"Because I can," my dad retorted like a five-year-old. "Anyway, I gotta go, kid. But the Olive Garden. Dinner. Wednesday at six. Got it?"

 

Easily my favorite part of the whole thing. Before Sam even responded I as thinking the exact same thing. Why the 'the'? Haha. 

 

For a pretty optimistic chapter, what with everything going so peachy for her and all, the ending couldn't have been more fitting. I'm telling you. It's Daoism. You can't have a happy chapter without ending on a dark note. Or vice versa. 

 

Geez. I'm so awkward.

 

But seriously. That ending. You kill me. 

 

Please update soon. I need to find out what the murderous-sounding scream was about. Like...NOW.

 

—MEG

 


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#21 Pretty.Odd.

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Posted 15 July 2013 - 11:12 PM

Compared to my comment last time, this one will be sucky and underwhelming. Sorry. ): I'm exhausted but have the burning need to catch up on your story and Meg's story at the moment, so I'm doing comments right now.
 
Logan should not be apologizing for his loud friends. They were awesome! So entertaining. :D Sam's right; they're, like, the only one's who have bothered to talk to her about something OTHER than her room. How refreshing. There are some rational people out there!
 
Logan's sheepishness was seriously adorable. I could not stop smiling as I read it. I don't know how I am possibly so attached to a character this early on, but I am. How do you write such likable characters?! Teach me your ways! My characters always seem so irritating, and yours always seem so perfect and likable and fun. How.
 

They exchanged an awkward and amusing handshake, due to the fact I was between them and we were walking.

 
Trying to picture this made me laugh out loud. So awkward. 
 
WHAT IS IT WITH THE GUY PESTERING THEM? I am beginning to question this more and more. It's bothering me. I want to know what's up with him. Hopefully you'll tell us soon. (I mean, go ahead and drag it out, since the suspense is always fun. But still. I want to knowww.)
 
I liked that you had a nice gap in time. Let the characters get used to each other without having to write it, right? It makes writing their relationships a lot easier. I appreciated it, and I'm not even the writer, lol.
 
"The" Olive Garden. I can't get over this. It's always the dad with the best lines, man...
 
Her love for Grandover is my love for this story. Let me show you:
 
"I had already grown to love Grandover so much. Maybe it was the characters, but there was something inexplicably different about the story that just drew me in."
 
Lol, no more comments for sleep-deprived Artemis. What's happening right now??
 
Anyway, THAT ENDING. Cliff hangers drive me crazy!
 
Not gonna lie, I didn't think this chapter was as eventful as the previous ones. It was still AWESOME, and it definitely still served a huge purpose--just not as much happened. Great character stuff, though. Sometimes you need those character chapters. I think it was about time we had a solid character-y chapter. I thoroughly enjoyed it. :D
 
I still can't wait for more. You've got something really interesting going on, and I can't wait to see where you're going to take it. Update soon! You can't leave us with that ending for too long... :D

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#22 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 19 July 2013 - 12:04 PM

I'm tired so this may not make sense . The majority of the chapter it was like , la, la,la,la,la,la,  with a little bit of humour and then it got creepy, then it got happy and the ending was like boom. ( Sorry that was the best way I could describe it.) I want to know who the creepy guy is, your characters are extremely likeable, Sam's father especially. I look forward to reading more.

Millie May


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#23 Jcrazy

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Posted 19 July 2013 - 11:56 PM

Meg_Rulz: Ah thank you! :) All we be discovered in time...maybe ;) haha. 

Meg: RIGHT. Like I really want to go to Grandover too. Haunted dorm room be damned... I'd deal..hah ;) Your talk about Daoism was perfect. The absolute truth...no good without the bad. Exactly. And I really like Logan too ;) haha he's my favorite guy, second to Sam's dad of course. I needed a tension free guy after writing CD, most definitely. And LOL, I had an English teacher who would talk about restaurants and say THE in front of it (the olive garden, the applebees, etc). It was always so awkward and funny. Thank you, Meg :)

Artemis: You're comments are always awesome psssssh. Yes I liked making Logan nervous, such fun ;) And I think it's a writers job to hate half their characters, even if everyone else loves them. Like I probably love all your characters you think are not likable haha. The guy pestering them...well I will tell you that his true purpose probably won't come out until the end of this lol. So I'll have to torture y'all for quite a while longer. HAHA, your "I had already grown to love Grandover so much...." made me laugh and smile so hard...thank you haha :) Yes, it was definitely a character chapter. Luckily a lot more plot development happens in this next one. THANKS DUDE. 

Millie May: I feel ya girl, I've been so tired today. LOL, your description of my chapter was perfect though. Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying it :) 


OKAAAAAY. Why are my chapters becoming shorter? This is stupid. But I fit everything I needed in so I guess that's all that counts! Read on!


Chapter Five
Broken Glass

I jammed my key into the door with more urgency, my hands fumbling now as I threw the door open. My bag immediately dropped to the carpet and my hand not holding my key flew to my mouth. 

Callie was crouched on the floor beside her bed, hands clutching her knees as she took shallow breaths. Her expression was shockingly terrified. My eyes scoured her body for some sign of injury, but I came up empty. 

"Callie. What happened?" I rushed towards her, dropping to my knees beside her. 

Her panic laden eyes slowly moved to my face and I was startled again by how afraid she looked. Honest fear was covering her entire face. 

"The...the vase." Callie's words were shaky and also riddled with confusion. Her eyes flashed behind her and I followed them to the broken shards of glass in front of her closet door. 

"Did you...drop it?" I asked, knowing the question was pointlessly stupid even as I said it. Dropping a vase would not have caused her to scream bloody murder. Dropping a vase wouldn't have caused the marks on the paint that I now saw on the closet door, directly above where the shattered pieces rested on the carpet. 

"No, it just..." Callie shook her head vehemently as she pushed off her knees and stood up, just to sit right back down on the edge of her bed. I sat beside her. "It just...it—it did it on its own!"

I cast a curious gaze towards her nightstand where the vase had been. She had brought it in earlier in the week, full of daisies, saying they were from her Botany elective class. I had liked them. 

Now the flowers were scattered on the floor alongside broken glass. 

"What do you mean ‘it did it on its own’?" I asked Callie, placing what I hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

"It was like..." She blinked multiple times before shaking her head. "Magic. Or something."

"Callie." I looked at her seriously. "What happened? I need a play-by-play."

Her words were quick and messy as she explained how she had not been back from dinner for more than five minutes when it had happened. She had been standing beside her closet, preparing to hang her clean clothes up, when the object flew past her head. Her peripheral vision had seen it flying through the air and she had jumped back as it smashed loudly against the wall, shattering to the floor. 

What she was saying was completely unbelievable and impossible, yet I immediately believed her. There was not a doubt in my mind that what she was saying was the truth. Her honest fear, still-frightful expression, and evidence on the floor was all the convincing I needed. 

"What do we do?" Callie asked minutes later after she had explained the story in detail.

I had calmed her down the best I could, urging her to just lay back on her bed and try to relax. Crouching back down, I began picking up pieces of glass and flower petals. 

"What do you mean?" I asked. 

"Shouldn't we tell someone? This is insane, Sam." Callie lifted herself up on her elbows, watching as I tossed the evidence into her wastebasket. 

Shouldn't we tell someone? Her question echoed through my mind and I felt something unsettling stirring in my stomach. This is what I had worked hard to prove when I had first arrived at Grandover. That my dorm room wasn't...haunted.

"No." My voice sounded more certain than I actually was. "Callie, we can't. People finally aren't referring to us as ‘the girls in the haunted dorm’ anymore. If this got out there..." I looked at her hopefully. "You get that, don't you?"

She looked doubtful for a moment, but then nodded reluctantly. 

"So, we don't tell anyone?" The shakiness in her voice was gone now and the color had retuned to her face. 

I nodded. "We don't tell anyone."

***

Except Logan. 

It hadn't been my intention to tell him. I truly did want to keep it from everyone. But, let's be real, I was also freaking out about it and Logan had become pretty good at reading me these past couple weeks. 

"Okay. What's going on?" he asked after dinner. 

I had arrived at the Cafe late and made some half assed excuse to the guys when they questioned my prolonged absence. Logan had watched me all through dinner as I picked at my food and looked up dazed every time someone said my name. 

Afterwards, I had remembered the book I had to get from the library for English. I told them all goodbye, but Logan volunteered to come with me. He was leaning on the book case behind me as I scoured the shelf in front of me for something by Hemingway. 

I threw a look at him over my shoulder after his question. 

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently, gnawing nervously on my bottom lip as I faced the shelf again. 

"You seem really..." His words trailed off and I felt his hand on my shoulder. I jumped unintentionally, even though the gesture was obviously intended to be soothing. "Jumpy," he concluded. 

"I just... Um." I turned to face him and his worried face coaxed it out of me without much effort. "Something happened."

Concern flickered in his eyes. "What happened, Sam?"

I glanced around us, noting the closest person was studying at a table a fairly good distance away. Still, I leaned closer to him before I spoke. 

"It has to do with my dorm room," I admitted quietly. 

Logan frowned. "You mean..."

No explanation needed, I nodded. 

"Well, what exactly happened?" His dark eyes bore seriously into mine and his concern was still obvious, but he seemed curious as well. 

I whispered to him about Callie's scream, then relayed the story she had told me. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when I first mentioned the vase; they didn't go back down until I had finished the story. 

"You're serious?" he clarified when I stopped talking. 

I rolled my eyes at him. "Logan, I'm not making this up. I'm absolutely serious."

"You have to tell someone," he said. "That room's freaky as hell. You and Callie just need to go back to Headmaster Stanley and say ‘never freaking mind, sir. We want another dorm room.’ Seriously, Sam."

I was shaking my head even while he was talking. "No, you don't get it. I spent my first week at this school just getting everyone to shut up about my room. If I brought this up now..." I sighed loudly. "Just, no. I don't want to cause even more drama and freak even more of the girls out."

"But..."

"Really, Logan. I wasn't even planning on telling you. You can't tell anyone," I said. "Promise me?"

He looked hesitant, but eventually sighed and nodded. "I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you."

Walking into my room that night after telling Logan goodbye gave me chills for the first time. I had never been nervous about my room before, even with all I knew about it. But now, laying in my bed, I found myself Googling possible explanations for objects crashing against walls on their own to try and calm my nerves. 

I slept restlessly for the first time since my start at Grandover and when Callie's alarm woke me from my light sleeping, I sighed in relief, ready to get out of my room. 

Logan was beside my desk when I walked into history. His eyes lifted from the floor to me when I walked in, but he immediately frowned at whatever he saw on my face. 

"You look tired," he said as I dropped my backpack to the floor. 

I shrugged. "I just couldn't sleep. I'm fine, really," I assured him. 

He looked doubtful, but nodded. His mouth opened to say something else, but the bell rang and Mr. Henry shushed the class, causing Logan to just smile at me before taking his seat. 

My classes flew by and for the first time that disappointed me. It meant I had to go back to my room, which was basically the last thing I felt like doing. 

I knew I was being a wimp. 

But at this point I didn't know what to think. I didn't want to jump straight to the conclusion that my dorm room was "haunted," because that was ridiculous and impossible...

Right?

I sucked it up and went back to my room, knowing I needed to study and do my homework before dinner. My head peaked in the room and looked around before I went in. Things looked normal, so I entered, throwing my bag on the floor as I went. 

Callie usually went to the Cafe straight after classes with her group of friends, so I was alone. Even though I needed quiet, I wished she had come back to the room instead; I wanted company. If I called Logan, he would come, but I didn't want him to know just how freaked out I really was. 

I laid out all my study materials on the desk and began looking over my notes. For some reason my US History notes were always barely legible and I found myself squinting to try and figure out what I was reading. I suddenly remembered the notes Logan had given me last week—his from the previous year—and jumped up to find where I had put them in my nightstand. 

I tugged open the second drawer, but apparently a bit too roughly. The drawer came out of the nightstand and dropped to the floor. I rolled my eyes at my clumsiness, dropping to my knees to pick up all the discarded papers that had fallen out when it flipped over. 

I turned the drawer back over, glancing at it with confusion. It was deeper. I had been curious as to why this drawer was shallower than all the others, but now I saw that a discarded and thin sheet of painted plywood had been disguised to act as the "bottom" of the drawer. It had fallen out during my moment of clumsiness. 

I would have focused on how odd this was, but my eyes were glued to what had been under the piece of plywood: a leather bound journal with a name scrawled in the bottom corner. 

Whitney Anderson.



***

You remember who Whitney is, right? If not, review Logan and Sam's first convo in chapter two. AND, tell me what you think!
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#24 24moon100

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Posted 20 July 2013 - 01:08 AM

Yay! I'm going to bed now. Reading this first chance I get. :)


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#25 Meg_Rulz

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Posted 20 July 2013 - 05:00 AM

Oh My God! This is freaking fabulous! Love the ending! I can't say anything more because is SO perfect [to me]! I'm getting more and more curious to read the ending! LOL I'm babbling again!


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#26 24moon100

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Posted 20 July 2013 - 09:01 AM

Inanimate objects flying into walls. 

 

thatssotrue_2369_1330362233_zps6722c31e.

 

Sh^t just got real at Grandover.  :icon_eek:

 

There still could be a possibility someone, an actual person, could've thrown it. If so, they're probably a ninja. Because, let's face it, no one could've gotten in and out of there that fast. 

 

Otherwise? Damn. We have ourselves a poltergeist. 

 

I nodded. "We don't tell anyone."

***

Except Logan. 

 

Can I just say that transition was perfect? 

 

But now, laying in my bed, I found myself Googling possible explanations for objects crashing against walls on their own to try and calm my nerves.

 

Haha. That would so be me. Although that would probably only freak me out even more. Poor Sam. She can't feel safe in her room anymore. :/

 

Idea! She should move into Logan's room! :D

 

"You have to tell someone," he said. "That room's freaky as hell. You and Callie just need to go back to Headmaster Stanley and say ‘never freaking mind, sir. We want another dorm room.’ Seriously, Sam."

 

And

 

His dark eyes bore seriously into mine and his concern was still obvious, but he seemed curious as well. 

 

thatssotrue_3359_1330875479_zpsc273c7f7.

 

Awwwwww. Logan's concern for her was so sweet and I loved how he can read her so easily now. He's such a beautiful person. Okay? I just...I can't deal. 

 

Okay, all I have left to say is... WRITE ME MORE YOU WONDERFUL BRILLIANT WRITER, YOU. 

 

P.s. Hope you don't mind the gifs. I've been kind of obsessed with gifs lately.

 

—MEG


Edited by 24moon100, 20 July 2013 - 09:03 AM.

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#27 Pretty.Odd.

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Posted 20 July 2013 - 11:12 AM

I was super excited when I woke up and saw this. YES. I love it when you update. :D
 
There's nothing wrong with short chapters! Sometimes you need short ones. They can't all be long. As long as you say what you need to say, the length is pretty irrelevant.
 
So. Flying vases. Lol, that would be terrifying if it happened to me, but I was just giggling to myself when I was reading about it. It was a good way to start the creepiness of what I assume will continue to take place in the dorm. Frightening--but pretty light compared to what else could happen.
 
At least no one got hurt. A face full of glass could be, uh, slightly damaging, you know.

 

"It was like..." She blinked multiple times before shaking her head. "Magic. Or something."
 
I love how there's humor even in the darker parts of the story. Haha. :) I guess that's the easiest explanation, though. "Magic. Or something."
 
The fact that Logan has her trust like he does makes me happy. That just goes to show what a good friend (*cough* hopefully more than friend in the near future *cough*) he is to her. I understand why she wouldn't want to bring it up. What she said is exactly right:
 
"People finally aren't referring to us as ‘the girls in the haunted dorm’ anymore."
 
The dorm room thing isn't there choice. It doesn't define them at all. It gives them so much unwanted attention for something they don't have any part in. It's best to keep it quiet. Logan seems pretty trustworthy, if you ask me.

 

"You and Callie just need to go back to Headmaster Stanley and say ‘never freaking mind, sir. We want another dorm room.’"
 
This right here is why I love Logan. Not everyone can get away with that piece of dialogue. He's quite a character.
 
I love how she Googled the situation. When in doubt, GOOGLE. It's true. We all do it, haha.
 
You know how hard it would be to go into the room after the vase thing? I would be completely unnerved the whole time. You'd always be on edge. I liked that you showed her unease about the room at the end. It's like the little kid checking inside the closet and under the bed before he goes to sleep--you can't be too careful. :)
 
OOOH. The diary makes me curious. I figured Whitney Anderson was the girl who killed herself, but I had to go back and check. :P That should be some fun reading, huh?
 
Okay. Theory time, because I'm always full of those:
 
I know not much has happened and there's little evidence that I could possibly be right on this one, but I think there's more to the room than someone committing suicide in it. The girl must've been really troubled to commit suicide in the first place, so the haunting bit isn't surprising. But why is she haunting the ROOM, of all things? Unless:
 
-the ghost is trapped in the room
-there's something darker to the room than just the suicide that would cause Whitney to haunt it
-it isn't the ghost of Whitney Anderson at all
 
Why haunt the room? I'm thinking there's a bigger picture here, especially since you introduced the haunting thing so early on.
 
Now. I'm likely reading into this all too much, but I think I've got a valid point.
 
By the way: I know my comment has been focussed entirely on the story and not the writing, which is why I'm adding this bit in. You are a great writer. You sure know how to tell a good story.
 
I'm almost more curious about this ending than I was last time. The haunting has officially captivated me, thanks to me reasoning above. I want the whole story. :D Update ASAP.
 
xoxoArtemis

Edited by Pretty.Odd., 20 July 2013 - 11:14 AM.

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#28 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 20 July 2013 - 01:36 PM

The bad news is I was woken up by my excruciatingly annoying sister this morning so I am tired again, though I am tired the majority of the time. 

 

I loved the googling part and the fact Sam and Logan are becoming gradually closer. I am wondering about Callie, what is she really like? Will her and her friends have anything to do with future events, other than the fact she is an inhabitant of the "haunted" room? 

My theory is that the creepy guy has something to do with what's going on, but other than that I have no idea. I am wondering about Whitney Anderson, somebody must have known her surely.

 

The beginning scene of the chapter was hilariously dramatic to me, but maybe this is because I find everything dramatic. The length of the chapter didn't bother me at all, my "chapter's" are atrociously short, some of my favourite authors ( Meg Rosoff) have short chapters. Anyone being sad that lessons have finished is suspicious, as well as being glad to wake up on a school day. The discovery of the journal has really excited me, it may lead  to answers. 

 

I loved the name of this chapter, calling it "Broken Glass"  seems so poetic, needless to say, I love poetry. Yay for barely legible handwriting. I liked the way Sam spent the majority of the chapter trying to convince herself, as well as everyone else that everything was perfectly fine, I do this often myself. Yay for wimpiness and yay for the way you write.

 

Your writing is so amazing, you make it seem so effortlessly easy and it is as if your purpose on this earth was to tell a story. It makes me want to write whilst feeling as if I could never be as good as you, as well as, many of the other writers on this site.  I am so looking forward to reading more. Thank you for being so brilliant.

 

Millie May


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#29 Gee{or}jah

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Posted 20 July 2013 - 10:47 PM

JAMIE!! 

 

Wow, I have been meaning to sit down and read this properly for a while and I am now wanting to kick myself for not doing it sooner. You are amazing girl. 

 

1. I love the setting. I have always wanted to go to a boarding school (I even thought about applying to an American college 4 years ago) and yours is pretty much what I had in my head as the perfect live in school. 

 

2. Everyone else has said this, and I am going to mention it as well. Her Dad. Ahh. I do love it when dads are amazing and funny, he is definitely the quintessential awesome dad.  

 

3. The Olive Garden. Hahaa! Admission: I am known to call Kmart The Kmart. It drives my friend crazy, and I have no clue why I put in the the. Now I consciously have to think about it when I talk. 

 

4. Names! Ahh. You have used some of my all time favorite names in this story. Logan and  Kennedy! I like them already, just because of those facts. 

 

5. Logan. Its pretty self explanatory, but that guy seems really, real. And genuine. I hope he stays that way.

 

6. I love the mystery aspect of this and the spooky factor. You have done a fantastic job of not making this seem really predictable. It definitely makes me want to continue reading. 

 

7. Jamie your writing just gets better and better. Its amazing, you really do have a talent for writing. It flows, has humor but not cheesy and annoying. You get major snaps for this. 

 

8.  Boom! You really know how to end chapters Jamie. Cliffhangers? Did not expect any of those. 

 

9. Googling flying inanimate objects? Brilliant. I love google. 

 

10. Reading your amazing story has made me feel bad for my own neglected stories. I also couldn't think of a 10th point. So I will go and get busy with my own writing. 

 

Love, love, love this! 

 

Georgia. x 


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#30 Jcrazy

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Posted 07 August 2013 - 12:22 AM

Poorvi: hehe thank you so much. I wish I could read the ending myself ;) ha, I have crazy ideas for how this should end. 

Meg: Your gifs are great hahaha. Keep em coming. Yeah, who knows who/what threw the vase? Oh wait! Me ;) It was totally a ninja though. Ha. I almost didn't use the transition you pointed out because I thought it was almost too...transition...y. (I don't even know) Sam should just move into Logan's room shouldn't she?! What a great idea ;D I'm glad you like him so much. Anyway thank yewwwww. I'm always happy to read your comments. 

Artemis: if a vase flew into my wall, I wouldn't even have time to scream because I would be passed out in terror on the floor haha. I am amazed at how even my "creepy" parts turn out amusing :P I think this is a new genre ha. Logan is trustworthy, in my book. So far. Mwaha. I'm not nearly as determined as Sam. I would definitely have packed my bags and been out of 226 by now. But, then where would the story be?! ;P The diary is some interesting reading that y'all will also get to "read" parts of. :) As far as your haunting of the room prediction, one of your predictions is sort of right. Not telling which ;) Thank you, Artemis!

Millie May: Ah, I always love your comments! Thank you. Callie will be a lot more "oblivious" than Sam is in the future of the story, I guess you could say, but that's all I'm saying ;P The creepy guy will be mentioned again, that I can promise, but not until later on. You seem to be picking up on things pretty easily; your comment made me think "ooh, if someone's going to guess what happens, it will be her." Hah. Yeah, I need to stop worrying about chapter length. It wouldn't bother me if I wasn't posting online, but I like my readers to have lots to read whenever I update since I do it so irregularly. Yay for your "yay" comments ;) again, thank you!

GEORGIA!!: Ah, HIIII!!! Haha. 1) Ditto! I always wanted to go to the boarding school in Zoey101, lol. 2) Her dad is like my dad, but my dad is so much more inappropriate ha. 3) Sometimes I throw "the" in front of places too! It just adds a little something. ;) 4) Logan is one of my favorite guy names too! 5) Logan will be a bigger part of the story than may be expected. 6) thank you so much! 7) Compliments like that from you mean a lot considering you've been reading the crap I've been posting ever since the beginning basically :D 8) sometimes I think I have too many cliffhangers lol. 9) Google is life. 10) GO WRITE GEORGIA! Haha thannkks a million. 

***

Okay, so while writing the majority of this TODAY...my brother and mom had an in depth conversation about the Olive Garden. I just...I can't...why haha. 

Enjoy :)



Chapter Six
The Olive Garden

I had picked up tidbits of information about the girl who had lived in my room the year before. Even though people had quit associating me with the room as frequently, Whitney Anderson was still a subject you could guarantee to hear mentioned at least a few times a week around campus. Nothing I had learned about her was too shocking so far. It was basically all that Logan had told me that first day. She was reserved, pretty, and had apparently killed herself, most likely out of depression. Her story wasn't complicated, but looking at the journal in front of me now, I knew that assumption was wrong. 

The journal was thick on its own, easily a couple hundred pages. But there were also sheets of paper thrown messily between pages, scraps with a few words on them shoved into the front or back of the book. It was big and bulky and obviously not for my eyes. 

I opened it anyway. 

The first page was dated 9-2-12, exactly a year before the day I started at Grandover. 

Wanting to keep reading, but not wanting anyone else to know about what I just found, I crammed the drawer back in the nightstand, throwing everything that had fallen out back in. I grabbed the journal, picking it up off the floor, and brought it over to my bed. I leaned against the headboard, focusing back on the first dated entry. 

Boarding school wasn't in my plans. None of this was in my stupid, stupid, stupid plans. I didn't want to spend my first day of summer at Mom's funeral. I didn't want to pick up after my tenth grade year and move across the country. I didn't want to move in with my dad and his stupid, perfect family. I didn't want to. 

On the upside (if you could call it that), Grandover seems kind of cool in a weird way. Lots of food in the Cafeteria. Plus, my roommate is nice. Her name's Leanna. I was a complete jerk to her when I got here, but she's been so nice to me. I should probably give her a chance. 

I only agreed to come to Grandover because it seems like a better option then staying with Dad. His wife, Lydia, is okay. Their kid is even alright (my half sister? That sounds so weird). But Dad can go to hell for all I care. 

I know it's cliched and overused and maybe not even true all the time, but I hate my life. 


I took a deep breath and slammed the journal shut. It felt like such an invasion of privacy, but I knew I should read it. There could be something in there nobody knew about. Hell, I felt like I already knew more than most people did, and I had only read the first page. 

It would probably have been wise of me to take the journal to Headmaster Stanley or even the police, but that thought barely had time to cross my mind before I dismissed it. I didn't need another reason for the world to point a finger at room 226. 

The sound of the door knob turning caused me to push the journal under my pillow and shoot up off the bed. Callie walked in, looking curiously at me as she sat her key on the dresser. 

"You okay?" she asked, glancing around the room, like there might be another broken vase on the floor. "Nothing weird happened in here, did it?" 

I shook my head quickly. "Of course not. And I'm fine." 

I gave her a tight lipped smile that seemed to give her enough assurance. She shrugged and dropped her bag to the floor, dragging out her books. Her head found purchase on her pillow and she held a copy of the same Hemingway book I was reading up in front of her. 

I pretended to shift my focus back to my history notes while all my real attention resided with Whitney Anderson's secret thoughts. Telling Callie about it crossed my mind, but I was selfish. I wanted to keep it to myself, read it without someone else's opinions disrupting my own. I didn't want her to overrule my bad decision to not show the headmaster.  I wanted to privately sift through Whitney's brain while I had the chance. 

My phone eventually buzzed with a text from Logan, saying they were all on their way to the Cafe. I said a quick goodbye to Callie before I went to meet up with my friends, leaving the journal buried beneath my pillow. 

***

Some of Whitney Anderson's journal entries stood out to me over the next few days. It was hard to find time to read it in private, but what I had read was already more than I had imagined. 

9-14-12
I didn't know I was pretty. No one ever noticed me in California. It's different here and I can't decide if I like it or not. Leanna tells me I should "own it" and I have no idea what the hell that even means, but I like it when she says it. It makes me feel like I'm a normal, pretty girl.

Dad came to visit the other day though. And he made me feel like I was nothing. 

9-30-12
I never actually ever told anyone what he did to me. Well, no one except mom. He doesn't even know I remember. Dad has always been clueless though. Some days I just feel like screaming it at him. I REMEMBER. But then I remember his job and his happy wife and three-year-old daughter and I tell myself that I'm not as important as them. Because I'm not.

10-12-12
I met a guy. His name's Alec Calloway. He made me feel something the other day and I'm pretty sure it was happy.


The sound of footsteps approaching made me slam the journal closed. I slid it under my history book carefully as I looked up from the bleachers. Danny and Logan were stomping up the bleachers with their cleats and without their shirts. 

"Whatcha studying?" Logan plopped down on one side of me, then Danny on the other. 

I looked down at the page, picking the first heading I saw. "Federalism."

"Ah, the democrats of then, the republicans of today," Logan said reminiscently. I nodded like I actually knew what he was saying. Danny snorted a laugh at me. 

"Can we not talk about classes?" Danny insisted, dropping a soccer ball between his knees. "I'm sure Sam agrees with me."

I grinned at him as I slowly stood up. "Truth. But I have to go anyway, so feel free to discuss homework and test and awful teachers without me."

"But dinner," Logan said, looking up at me with a frown. 

"Ah, but it's Wednesday. My dad's taking me to the Olive Garden," I told him.

"The?" they both echoed my original confusion. 

"That's my dad for you."

"Well...I'll walk you," Logan decided, standing up with me and throwing his bag at Danny, then pulling a balled up t-shirt over his head. "Put that up for me, man, will you? Thanks."

Danny nodded and grinned his sneaky grin at us before we made our way down the bleachers. Logan's expression was cautious for the first few moments of our fairly lengthy walk, but then he slowly started talking. 

"So...has anything else happened?"

I blinked, honestly confused. "Huh?"

He shrugged. "With the, uh, dorm room. I was just wondering if anything else odd had occurred."

"Oh." I shook my head immediately. "No, everything's been normal. I'm attributing the crashing vase to rapid climate change or a miniature earthquake. Something like that. I read about it on Google and it's totally normal. A regular occurrence."

It was his turn to blink. "Regular occurrence?"

"Well, not that regular...but every once in a blue moon, stuff like this can happen." I shrugged. "I'm over it. Moved on. Case closed."

The case was definitely not closed, but if Logan believed it was, the easier it could be for me. 

We got to my dorm room and he came up with me. Callie wasn't there when I unlocked the door, so he plopped down on my bed and made himself comfortable as I searched through my closet for something Olive Garden appropriate.  

"Does being here freak you out?" I asked curiously as I snagged a skirt to exchange my jeans for. 

He sighed. "Maybe if I was alone. But not with someone else. I'm not a total wuss, you know?"

I smirked at him. "Right. Now close your eyes."

Not two seconds after I had changed and allowed him to uncover his eyes was there a knock on my door. I pulled it open, not anticipating the consequences of my dad viewing a boy on my bed. Fortunately the second I opened the door his eyes fell to me and he grinned. I was helpless to reciprocate and I found myself wrapped up into a hug before I even had a chance to say anything. Dad was right about one thing: I did miss him like crazy every day we didn't see each other. 

Our sweet moment was ultimately ruined when I felt his arms tense around me. His face was beside my ear and he quietly—but not so quietly that Logan couldn't hear—whispered, "What is that thing on your bed?"

Logan, being his but-everybody-loves-me self, jumped upright and was in front of my dad in a quick second, offering up a handshake and a boyish smile. 

"Sorry, sir. I'm Logan Lane. It really is nice to meet you. Sam talks about you a lot."

My dad was immediately gloating. "Oh does she now?"

I gave Logan a look. "You have no idea what that just did for his ego."

Logan's eyebrows furrowed like he was confused, but I just rolled my eyes and returned my attention to my childish father. 

"The Olive Garden is waiting for us, Dad. We should get going," I urged him. 

"I'm just starting to get to know your new boyfriend, kid."

Over the years, I had developed a pretty high tolerance for Dad's teasing. When he referred to Logan as my boyfriend though, pink flooded my cheeks and I ducked my head in an embarrassment I could have typically avoided. 

"Not my boyfriend," I muttered, glaring up at him. I cast Logan an apologetic look, but he just shrugged. "Really, let's get going."

Dad peered down at me, looking like he was about to agree, but then he caught sight of Logan's shoes. 

"Soccer?" he immediately asked, flicking his glance between Logan's face and cleats. 

I wanted to make fun of him for noticing a guys shoes, but suddenly he and Logan were in their own world. 

"Yes, sir. Just got done with practice actually."

"Any good?"

"I've gotten a few offers."

Dad looked appreciative. "College ball was fun."

"You played?"

Dad looked over to me. "You didn't even tell your boyfriend?"

I sighed. "He's not my—"

"Tell me what?" Logan looked curious. 

Dad tried to appear modest, but this was his favorite subject and he tended to brag a little. "It's nothing really. I just used to play soccer professionally."

"Seriously? Wait—what's your first name?"

"Robert."

"McPherson? I follow you on Twitter!" Logan suddenly looked like he was meeting the President. "You played for the USA team. Holy sh—I mean, crap. Holy crap, this is so cool!"

My dad looked ridiculously proud and thrilled at his reaction as he said, "Logan, would you like to come to the Olive Garden with us?"

***

I had really been looking forward to Olive Garden. Grandover food was awesome, but nothing would beat OG's breadsticks. Dad and I could catch up face-to-face and goof off for a couple hours. 

Now it had turned into a date between Logan and my dad. Logan was throwing soccer question after question at him, and he would reply with long, detailed stories about his experiences, all of which I had heard a thousand times. 

I  was currently on my fourth breadstick, busying myself with my phone. It buzzed with a new text from Kennedy that said Have u seen Logan?? He wasn't at the cafe, isn't answering his phone. I texted a picture of him and Dad, adding the caption He and my father are having a bromance before sending it. 

I slid my cell onto my lap, intent on interrupting their conversation about cleat preference. My knee bumped against Logan's as I moved closer to him in the booth, placing my hands on the table. He looked down at me mid-sentence, like he was coming out of a trance, noticing for the first time that he and my dad weren't the only ones at the table. 

"Oh. Hey, did you need something?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. 

I knew if I said no, they would sink back into the conversation, so I opted for, "Yeah, actually. You didn't tell the guys you weren't going to be at the Cafe?" I held my phone up and showed him the message from Kennedy. 

He cringed. "Oops. Yeah. I was just..." His eyes shifted to my father who was drumming his silverware against the table like a toddler. 

I smirked. "...busy hitting on my dad?"

He had the decency to look sheepish, but before he could say anything, Dad said, "Okay, okay. We get it. You feel left out, kid. How have you been?"

I smiled. "I've been good. Thank you. And you?"

He smirked. "Stop being normal. How have you really been?"

My eyes flickered to Logan who knew I had been slightly less than good the past couple days. Regardless, I answered, "There's still cookies in the vending machine and I'm not failing US History, so pretty good."

"You really hate history, don't you?" Logan asked with a smile on his face. 

I nodded while Dad answered. "Sam's a really bad memorizer. I don't think she has ever learned our home phone number."

"Because we move so much!" I defended, scowling jokingly at him. 

"It's okay." Logan shrugged. "My sister is the same way. She despises history."

"You have a sister?" my dad asked, forever zeroing in on the smallest details in conversation. 

"Yeah. She's sixteen. Usually she goes to Grandover, but this year...she changed her mind." He dropped his eyes to his drink and picked it up to take a sip. 

"What's your sisters name again?" I asked curiously. He had told me about his family, but only in passing. I had gathered that his parents had divorced when he and his sister were younger, but they were all really close despite the separation. 

"Her name's Leanna," he said. 

Leanna. The name instantly rang a bell in my mind and I thought back to the most recent place I had heard—or rather read—the name. Images of tiny handwriting on worn pages filled my mind. 

Plus, my roommate is nice. Her name's Leanna.

There were probably tons of Leanna's. Dozens on Grandover's campus that had no relation to Logan or Whitney Anderson's journal at all. But the connection had been made in my mind and, for some reason, it made sense to me. 

If Logan's sister was the same Leanna that Whitney wrote about in the journal, would Logan ever make an appearance in Whitney's thoughts?

***


But really, tell me what you think. 
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#31 Meg_Rulz

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Posted 07 August 2013 - 07:30 AM

Whoa! Totally awesome! Such a cool twist in the story!

Logan is so cool! I love Sam's dad though. It's really hard to not like Logan and Mr McPherson...

And as for the 'Leanna' thingy...I don't know, I'm really desperate to know more...

SO PLEASE UPDATE SOON!


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#32 Pretty.Odd.

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Posted 07 August 2013 - 10:13 AM

So first of all, I have a story for you: My family was contemplating going out to eat, and one of them suggested Olive Garden. Immediately I shouted out, "I think you mean THE Olive Garden!!" And the whole room just went silent. I don't think they understand...

 

Anyway, haha, I got very excited when I saw you updated. I've been meaning to get around to write a comment on Meg's story, so I decided I should take an hour or two to do comments on both this morning. I have barely written a thing lately. I bought myself a new (NICE) notebook in hopes that it would increase my productivity, since I've been really fed up with using the half-full notebooks people gave me at the end of school (perks of being a writer: everyone gives you their half-full notebooks :P). While I've written a bit more, I still can't do it. Lol. Maybe writing these comments will get me in the mood to write.

 

So just a disclaimer before you read the rest: I am kind of in a bad mood right now, so if this comment does not live up to your expectations, I apologize. I'm a little grumpy right now. :P I mean, I'm USUALLY grumpy, but a little bit extra this morning. So get ready for this comment to be short and kind of dissatisfying...

 

All right. So first of all, I love the diary thing. I know the whole "finding a secret diary" thing is used pretty frequently in this kind of story...but I always like it. Haha. I think journals like that are really cool. It's like your SOUL on PAPER. (That sounds vaguely Harry Potter Horcrux-like, but I think you get what I mean. :P)

 

I would separate the CC from the other part of the comment so it's nice and organized, but I'm not in that kind of mood. So here's some:

 

Wanting to keep reading, but not wanting anyone else to know about what I just found, I crammed the drawer back in the nightstand, throwing everything that had fallen out back in. I grabbed the journal, picking it up off the floor, and brought it over to my bed. I leaned against the headboard, focusing back on the first dated entry.

 

I notice myself doing this when I write. All of your sentences sound REALLY similar in this paragraph. They all follow this pattern (excuse the lame example): "I wrote Jamie a comment on her story, analyzing her writing as I went along." There's slight variation in there, but it blends a lot. I would give technical terms to help me explain better, but it's summer and I'm not in the mood for technical English stuff. So you get the vague version. Hope that made sense.

 

On a non-critical note, I love how, in the first entry of the journal, one of her upsides to Grandover is that there's "lots of food in the Cafeteria." :D Awesome.

 

I liked that you threw in the bits with her feeling that she was invading the girl's privacy. That lets me know something about Sam. I'm the kind of person who would read it with no hesitation whatsoever. Lol. She's DEAD, for God's sake. I guess I'd be a little unsure about it, given the whole "haunting" situation, but still. Deaaaad.

 

I also like how much she doesn't want that spotlight of "yes, I'm the one staying in 226" on her. She will do anything to avoid that, and it's funny to me. I wouldn't like that much either, personally. I'm sure there are some people that would, but it just seems kind of tiring after a while, especially in Sam's case, since she didn't even know what the big deal was in the first place.

 

Also I liked that she wants to keep it to herself--not even show her roommate. THERE'S SO MUCH GOOD CHARACTER STUFF GOING ON. This chapter has been full of it. I love it.

 

Heheheheh, shirtless Logan... :D

 

EVERY SINGLE TIME "the" Olive Garden is mentioned I laugh. What have you done to me, Jamie?! (Let's also just take moment to appreciate that the Olive Garden got the chapter title, too.)

 

"Ah, but it's Wednesday. My dad's taking me to the Olive Garden," I told him.

 

"The?" they both echoed my original confusion.

 

PERFECT.

 

Our sweet moment was ultimately ruined when I felt his arms tense around me. His face was beside my ear and he quietly—but not so quietly that Logan couldn't hear—whispered, "What is that thing on your bed?"

 

I wanted to make fun of him for noticing a guys shoes, but...

 

I gave Logan a look. "You have no idea what that just did for his ego."[quote]

 

Those were all so great! The dad is the funniest part of this story, even though--well, everyone's kind of funny in this story...

 

I was very amused with the whole "I follow you on Twitter!" thing. I don't know, it just struck me as funny that that's what his reaction was. :P I guess it was a good one, too, since he got invited along to the Olive Garden. :)

 

[quote]Now it had turned into a date between Logan and my dad.

 

Honestly might've been my favorite line this chapter. :D

 

I think the most realistic part of this chapter was the love for the Olive Garden breadsticks. MAN. Those things will be the death of me! I will get fat off of breadsticks...

 

LEANNA AHHHHH. Freaking out! This is a big development! She's Logan's sister and Whitney's roommate. I didn't see this coming!

 

How can you end every chapter with something that makes me want to slam my head against my laptop in rage? I'll be pretty interested and entertained throughout the story, and then the ending comes and my mind is blown. You're driving me crazy (in a good way :))!

 

I loved this chapter. There was a perfect balance of development, character stuff, and some fluffy stuff. Really well done. You managed to put me in a much better mood, so thank you! :D

 

xoxoArtemis


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#33 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 09 August 2013 - 04:35 PM

I apologise if this comment is really rubbish, makes no sense or sounds anyway rushed, this is the only time I have to reply.  I may be adding more yay comments, because I am in that sort of mood. I like that you like my comments and that the creepy guy will return, he sounds interesting. I doubt I will guess what happens, I want to though, but at the same time I like having no idea whatsoever. One of the reasons I stopped posting my fan fic online was because I couldn't write long enough chapter's, don't worry about chapter length, quality is more important than quantity. 

 

The Journal: Well the death of Whitney's mother and her obvious frustration with her situation could explain her suicide, but I sense there's more to it. Good food always makes life better. She hates her life - why am I not surprised. 

 

She didn't know she was pretty, it made her feel normal, your implying that she's not normal, at least not in her own eyes. Her own father made her feel like nothing, yes there is definitely more to this situation. What did her dad do to her? He doesn't sound very nice. She met a guy who made her feel happy, could he be creepy guy? Probably not, but I can make weird guesses, maybe this guy is just a red herring.

 

The rest of the chapter: The fact she hasn't taking the journal to the police, shows she is curious and guilty at the same time because she feels it's an invasion of privacy, in all truth I would probably do the same myself. I love the entire scene with Logan and her father so much, it somehow shows a much lighter side to the story. Then there's Logan's sister and the mystery of her being Whitney's roommate, not returning this year, it must have affected her as in the journal they seemed close. Maybe Logan knows something. I hope Logan does make an appearance in Whitney's thoughts, that would be interesting, to say the least. 

 

I find Sam's hatred for history amusing because of my own love for history, although like her, I cannot for the life of me memorize any dates. Her dad is so amusing and dad-like, yay for his amazingness. Yay for shirtless Logan and his ego, yay for his concern for Sam. Yay for this brilliant chapter, that made me laugh and cheered me up so much. Yay for your brilliant writing and the way it makes me constantly wonder what will happen next.

 

Your dialog is so realistically written, why does everyone else's dialog sound so much more natural than mine?  The whole concept of this story is just brilliant. I don't usually read stories like this, I want to now. This is just so entertaining to read and make crazy predictions of what may happen next. I love it when I read stuff online and it sounds better than most published books. 

 

I really need to read more, my happiness depends on it. But in your own time, I don't care about length or time, just as long as I can read more, sometime. You would not believe the pleasure I get out of reading stories online, your writing has got a really natural flow to it and sounds so perfectly realistic. I can't wait to read more.

 

Millie May


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#34 24moon100

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Posted 25 August 2013 - 10:57 PM

This is fantastic. 

 

Comment is in the works. I've already read the chapter it and it's my favorite so far! Dunno why I haven't commented yet. Guess I'm just lazy that way. :P

 

No, but really I've been SUPER busy. 

 

Just thought I'd say something to let you know I'm still invested in this story and that I want you to update as soon as possible. 

 

 


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#35 Jcrazy

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Posted 31 August 2013 - 08:29 PM

Poorvi: Hehe thank youuu. Yeh I love Logan's character but her dad totally wins as my favorite in this story hah. More shall be discovered about Leanna as it all progresses :-D

Artemis: The Olive Garden will forever be an inside joke. Hah. Yes, THE JOURNAL. It is used a lot. I had no other way to get Whitney into this story though. But I'm glad you are liking it! :) and UGH that paragraph you pointed out! I don't even like looking at it. How I didn't see that is beyond me. Thank you for pointing it out :P I feel like most of Sam's reactions to things are like mine, but toned down slightly. Lol she's a little more mellow than me. You managed to quote like every single one of my favorite lines! Ha. Thank you so much, dude. You have no idea how much your comments help. 

Millie May: Ah, thank you! :D Love your comments. We are just scratching the surface of the journal... There's more about it in this chapter and there will be more about it in upcoming ones :P You'll slowly figure Whitney all out. I am on the same page as you with history—love it to death, but I struggle with less significant things like dates. Dialogue is what I like to think I'm best at, but I really don't know. Thank you. I'm a word girl and the way people say things has always fascinated me :P it's translated to my writing, no doubt. Again, THANKS. Cuzyoureawesome.

Meg: I'm glad to hear the last one was your favorite! It was mine too so far.. An don't worry about commenting if you're too busy! Just thank you for reading :) 


So it's only been like four thousand years since I updated. Sorry bout that. Also I'm sorry this chapter might suck I don't know we will see sorry sorry sorry. 


Chapter Seven
Leftover 

"He said he would come watch one of our games!"

"No way.

"Yes!"

"Sam!" Danny's shocked gaze was now on me instead of Logan. "Why didn't you tell us your dad is basically my old soccer idol?"

I shrugged, tossing my Olive Garden leftovers into one of the microwaves before hopping back onto the washing machine. The basements of the dormitories were all similar—washing machines and driers, accompanied by microwaves and a few fridges you couldn't trust to put anything too important in. Luckily my "back off, this is mine" note seemed to have done the trick. It had managed to survive the night. 

"Robert McPherson was so good," Danny continued on without me having to say a word. "My dad would show me all these videos of him playing when I was younger. Dude quit while in his prime."

"I know," Logan agreed, trying to snag my half eaten breadstick. I swatted his hand. "Why would he do that? Quit when he was on top?"

I cleared my throat and pointed purposefully at myself. 

"Oh. Right. He had a kid. Man, that sucks." Danny was obviously joking, his eyes lighting up more and more as I continued to glare at him. 

"You're a jerk. You knew that, though, right?" I smirked at him and he grinned back. 

"You caught me, beautiful."

Danny didn't like calling me—or should I say girls—by their names very often. If it wasn't baby, it was princess or beautiful or something you couldn't help being flattered by. He was the definition of a flirt, but I couldn't deny I loved his attention, even if I was one of the dozens of girls receiving it. I had asked Rachel and Kennedy about his affection and attention soon after I met them all and they assured me of what I had already guessed—Danny was beyond harmless. It made him one of my favorite people. 

"But really," Logan butted in between us, now forcibly taking the breadstick from my hand. "Why didn't you say anything about your dad before?"

I shrugged again. "I didn't want to come off like I was bragging, I guess. Plus, I knew you guys would have emotional breakdowns when you found out."

"Not true." Logan frowned at my accusation. 

"‘I follow you on Twitter’? Does that ring any bells to you?" I raised an eyebrow at him. 

The corner of his mouth twitched up. "Smart ass."

I put a hand to my heart, feigning that I had been insulted, before slowly saying, "Thank you, Logan."

"You guys are freaking weird," Danny decided, grabbing his soda can off one of the dryers. "Which is one reason why I'm leaving. I've got a crap ton of class work I'm not going to be able to do tomorrow because of the game also." He looked at me and I had never seen his face so serious. "You're coming to the game, right?"

"Promise."

He left with a grin on his face, slapping Logan on the shoulder after he dramatically kissed my hand. I watched him maneuver past some girls on the other side of the room before Logan spoke up. 

"I wasn't that bad with your dad last night... Was I?" He looked at me sheepishly as I twirled a noodle from my leftovers box around a plastic fork. 

I bit my lip, restraining a smile. "You do realize you asked him to sign your napkin, don't you?"

He cringed. "So...yeah. I was that bad."

I laughed at him. "No. You weren't. It was...sweet. He loves getting attention like that, even if he won't admit it. I'm glad you met him despite your fan girl-ing."

Logan shrugged, looking at the linoleum floor. "I've never met someone I actually idolize before." His eyes lit up as they settled back on my face. "He said you were pretty good though. At soccer," he added. 

I shook my head, wanting nothing more than to smack my dad upside the head for his tendency to brag not only for himself, but for me. "Maybe when I was younger," I said, "but I didn't stick with it. I never loved it as much as he would have liked."

"We should play sometime."

"You and my dad?"

"No. Me and you."

"Soccer?" I looked at him in confusion. 

"Yeah." He shrugged again. "What'd you think I was talking about?"

I returned his shrug, pushing my now empty leftover box into the trash. "You really want to play?"

"With you," he clarified. 

I hummed, smiling. "That was kind of dirty."

"Excuse me?"

"You just said you wanted to play with me," I pointed out, a smile finding its way onto my lips. "Thank God Danny isn't here. He would have been all over that one." I snorted out a giggle, entertaining myself with the possible scenario that would have played out. 

"You seem happy," Logan observed, completely dismissing my previous comment with nothing more than an eye roll. 

"Seeing my dad..." I shrugged. "He's the best."

"I concur." He nodded, then hopped up onto the dryer next to me. "So, no more dorm room madness? Everything is back to normal?"

I had yet to ask him about  Leanna and I had been too busy to continue reading in the secret journal, but...

"Yeah," I said. "It's normal. Thanks."

***

Callie was somewhere with one of her friends and I had actually done all my homework for the first time since I had started at Grandover. The clock was ticking towards eleven, but all the lights were on in the room. It was becoming a bad habit of mine to leave lights on to compensate for possible vase-to-wall incidents. 

I had been avoiding the journal all day, half out of my busy schedule and half out of nervousness. The entries had no connection to me or anyone I knew up until dinner the night before. Prior to it, I had been reading it from the perspective of a third party, but if someone Logan was close to was going to become a part of Whitney Anderson's story... Well, I wasn't sure how I felt about continuing to read. 

Still, feeling like it was a perfect opportunity, I drew the journal out from the nightstand and into my lap. 

11-13-12
Alec can be an idiot, I know that better than anyone. Leanna's insistence that he's no good is absolute BS though. He's good, good to me at least. I don't even care about his rules. If he wants to keep our relationship a secret, that's FINE. It's actually kind of fun. Leanna doesn't get that. 

11-24-12
I thought it was Leanna's boyfriend or something, but it turns out it's her brother. I walked in the room and he was sitting at her desk and I almost flipped &$#%^&. He didn't mean to, but he scared me. I tried to tell him I just scare easily—I always have—but he apologized profusely until Leanna showed back up. 

Alec came in the room when her brother was there and tried to play it off like he was in my room for some other reason than to just see me. Hiding our relationship is starting to suck a little, but whenever I ask why, he responds with "My dad's a teacher here, Whit. I don't want him knowing who I'm dating." 

It doesn't make much sense to me, but I go with it because I'm pretty sure he's my favorite person in the world. Not that that's saying much. 

12-2-13
Logan—that's Leanna's brother—told me Alec was—and I quote—"a deceptive, lying, a--h----" today. I told him to go to hell. I feel kind of bad about it, but Leanna says he feels worse. 


I skimmed the next few pages, but Logan's name didn't pop out at me anywhere. My suspicions had been confirmed though—Logan's younger sister had been Whitney Anderson's roommate.  

My mind processed the now confirmed information slowly. Confusion turned into acceptance and acceptance turned into annoyance. Why hadn't Logan told me? Why hadn't any of them told me? Kennedy or Danny or even freaking Rachel? It seemed like something worth mentioning to me. 

Whitney's continuous talk about Alec was also starting to worry me. I had a bad feeling about him already and I wondered how she couldn't have seen it. It was in her words, the way she wrote about him. She seemed completely dependent upon him and he didn't exactly appear to reciprocate, at least judging by his words and actions she had described. 

Callie came back to the room shortly after I started reading again, forcing me to put away the journal. I knew one thing for sure though: I needed to finish reading it. And soon. 

***

"HELL YEAH! Get it IN! Get it, get it, get IT—NO! Oh, screw you, number five!" 

Kennedy Burgess was very, very passionate about soccer. 

It was itching towards half time of Grandover's first soccer game. The bleachers were packed, more so than I would have expected. Students, teachers, and parents filled them to the point of people having to stand on the sidelines. Never had I seen so many people interested in a high school sporting event, but I understood why. The boys were good.

The score was one-to-one and everyone was biting their nails over it. It didn't help that they were playing the team who had apparently kept them from making states the season prior. The tension was almost thicker than the excitement in the air and I found myself watching the game with an intensity my dad would have been proud of. 

"She always gets like this," Rachel, who was on my left, explained to me, flicking her gaze to an oblivious Kennedy. "Don't get me wrong, I like soccer too. But I just can't find it in me to scream obscenities at the other team."

"I'm with you," I said, shifting uncomfortably on the metal seat when Kennedy yelled something startling at one of the referees. The parents in front of us turned to show their distasteful expressions. 

"Did you see that?" Kennedy muttered to me, completely unaware of the attention she was drawing not only to herself, but to all of us. "These refs always suck. They make the dumbest calls."

"Um. Yeah." I shrugged, trying to approach the subject gently. "You know, maybe you could take it down a—"

Her eyes snapped to the field. "NUMBER TWELVE, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!"

I flinched and decided it was going to be impossible to stop her. I scooted closer to Rachel, maybe creating enough distance so people would think I was just sitting next to Kennedy, not with her. 

Halftime rolled around quickly and the score remained tied. I made my way through the crowds in the bleachers, heading towards the concession stand to buy myself a drink before the second half began. Somehow in the midst of all the people, I managed to spot him. 

I couldn't even place him at first. He looked familiar, but not overly so. I wasn't even sure if I was right until I caught his eye. I may not have recognized him, but he recognized me and immediately dropped his gaze to the ground. 

It was the do I know you? guy from my first day of classes. I hadn't forgotten, but had long ago pushed him to the back of my mind, choosing to focus primarily on Whitney Anderson rather than some random creep. Now, though, I wanted answers. 

I watched for a moment as he swiftly turned around and started walking the other way, pushing past everyone walking towards the concessions. Practically having to shove people out of the way to keep up, I made my way towards him. When I was finally close enough to reach him, I swiped a hand out and grabbed a fistful of the back of his shirt. 

"Hey, stop," I said, more forcibly than I felt. 

I half expected him to rush away, but he glanced over his shoulder and sighed loudly when he saw me. 

"You," he muttered, pushing a frustrated hand through his hair. 

I frowned. "No, you." I glared at him for a moment. "Did you just try to run from me?"

I anticipated a nasty reply or something confusing to be said. My first encounter with him had been befuddling enough. He surprised me when he let his eyes drop to the ground with an expression that looked something like guilt. 

"Um. Maybe," he admitted, glancing up. I raised my eyebrows and he sighed. "Can we, um, not talk in the middle of...everyone?" His eyes drifted to the crowds of people around us. 

I was dragged to the opposite side of the concession stand. I probably should have been nervous, but like he said, there were so many people. It seemed like he was more uncomfortable that I was. 

"You know what I want to ask," I began, taking a step back and looking up at his face. I crossed my arms. 

"I do," he admitted, sticking his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders. "Look... I'm sorry about that day. I would have been weirded out if I were you."

"Well, I was."

"Yeah..." He shook his head. "Okay, I'm going to explain, but it's going to sound really bad."

I stared at him expectantly.

"Right. Anyway, it started that morning. I got this note on my desk in my first class..." He paused for a moment when someone tossed something in the trash can beside us, waiting until they had walked away for him to continue. "It had a picture of you."

"Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. It just had a picture and a note beneath it that said something like Freak this girl out for fifty dollars tomorrow."

"You scared me for fifty bucks?" I gaped at this guy, waiting for some sort of explanation. So far, this was not looking good. 

"I know, I know." He sighed loudly. "I'm an a--h----. That's my sole excuse. I'm really sorry. If it makes you feel any better, they only gave me twenty."

Something about his response made me want to not totally punch him in the face. "Who is they?" 

He seemed happy I wasn't punching him in the face. "I have no clue. I'm really sorry. All I got was the note."

"Can I see it?"

"Of course. Really, I'm sorry."

I regarded his expression for a moment, but deemed that he was being honest. "It's okay. Most people probably would have done the same thing."

He seemed relieved. "Thanks. I'm Scott, by the way."

"Sam." I pointed to myself by way of introduction. "Where's the note you got?"

"My dorm room. When can I give it to you?" His face looked lighter, like a weight had been lifted off him. The first trace of a smile surfaced and a dimple appeared, blending into the sparse freckles on his cheeks. 

I smiled hopefully. "Now?"

"You don't want to see the rest of the game?"

I did, but my desire to see the note and figure out who had written it outweighed the one to finish the game. I told him as much and he shrugged, telling me to follow him. 

I quickly stopped by the stands, giving Kennedy and Rachel an excuse about how my stomach was hurting, before following Scott out of the game. 
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#36 Pretty.Odd.

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Posted 31 August 2013 - 08:35 PM

YEEEEEES

I will read this tomorrow, dude. I just got back from Six Flags and I'm planning on watching TV and doing nothing tonight, but I will make it a priority to read & comment tomorrow. :D
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#37 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 01 September 2013 - 03:57 AM

I am glad you like my comments, I am not awesome though, if I was awesome I would have finished writing my second chapter  rather than watching hours and hours of TV. Anyway, I am on a time limit at the moment, so I can't be online long, otherwise I won't be able to start typing up my chapter later today, I am typing as fast as I can. I love words too. 

 

I should probably start commenting on the actual chapter whilst I still can. Don't worry this chapter most definitely did not suck and was worth waiting for. I found their excitement about her father's career hilarious, I mean I like football, but I don't get that excited about the players, same about Kennedy whilst she was watching the game, maybe I shouldn't compare football to soccer. Kennedy does sound a bit like some of the old men who moan about everything at Arsenal matches, those men are hilarious.

 

So Whitney did meet Logan and Leanna is definitely his sister Leanna,  I doubted it was a red herring, but I am glad it's been confirmed.  

 

The creepy guy isn't evil, but who told him to creep her out, the plot thickens. He ran away from her, he sounds more like the guys I know. Who pays someone to creep out somebody random? There must be some reason, or some significance in that and I have no crazy theories about who it might be this time.

 

I really admire people who write like you, who make writing seem effortless, as a reader it makes it much more enjoyable to read. You have such a believable voice for your character, all these things make your writing so enjoyable to read. Of course I will be looking forward to reading more, because I have no idea what will happen next and that makes things really exciting. Always remember your writing is brilliant, you should have more self belief. Thank you for such a brilliant update and I hope to read more soon.

 

Millie May


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#38 Pretty.Odd.

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Posted 15 September 2013 - 08:10 PM

): I am a terrible reader. I will make myself comment this week. I'm really sorry.

xoxoArtemis
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#39 Pretty.Odd.

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Posted 17 September 2013 - 04:58 PM

HEY SO HAPPY SEVENTEENTH BIRTHDAY! I wish I could give you a real-life present, but since we sort of live in different parts of the country, I can only give an online present. I decided I'd do my comment today as a birthday present to you. :)

 

I'm gonna jump right in and applaud your brilliant writing.

 

The basements of the dormitories were all similar—washing machines and driers, accompanied by microwaves and a few fridges you couldn't trust to put anything too important in. Luckily my "back off, this is mine" note seemed to have done the trick. It had managed to survive the night.

 

I don't know why, but this just felt like a paragraph of sheer perfection when I read it. There's a great flow and--how do you have such a way with words? Really, though. I have no doubt you'll get published one day, man. You've got the potential. You know how to make a compelling plot; you're funny--hilarious, really; your serious writing is also awesome; you basically have both dialogue and description DOWN, which is more than I can say about a lot of published YA others I've read. If you don't think I'm being sincere about this, you need to think again. I'm being 100% honest about everything I'm saying. You're really freaking talented.

 

I love how all Sam's friends are fangirling over her dad. It adds so much humor, especially because of her relationship with him. I'm imagining quite a lot of eye-rolling must go on...

 

"But really," Logan butted in between us, now forcibly taking the breadstick from my hand. "Why didn't you say anything about your dad before?"

 

I shrugged again. "I didn't want to come off like I was bragging, I guess. Plus, I knew you guys would have emotional breakdowns when you found out."

 

"Not true." Logan frowned at my accusation.

 

"‘I follow you on Twitter’? Does that ring any bells to you?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

 

The corner of his mouth twitched up. "Smart ass."

 

I put a hand to my heart, feigning that I had been insulted, before slowly saying, "Thank you, Logan."

 

I couldn't figure out where to stop quoting, so I just quoted it all. So great. I still love the Twitter line. Glad it got a mention again. :D

 

CAN WE JUST TAKE ANOTHER MOMENT to appreciate how Logan is always super adorable? Like, always? He's just a great character. (The only problem is one of the kids I'm stuck at a table with during study hall is named Logan and he is literally one of the most annoying people I've had to deal with. But I'm able to separate them fine, since your Logan is awesome and mine is cringe-worthy.)

 

I liked how you brought up how her dad is always bragging for her, too, because that's really how parents are. You've always got those tiny details that are hugely realistic. Those little things make it so much more believable.

 

HAHA, the "play with me" part just KILLED ME. You know I was thinking the exact same thing when I first read it. Dirty minds think alike. :P

 

But I'd love to see them play soccer together. That could be a great scene. MAKE IT HAPPEN. ;)

 

Let me just tell you: I'm fascinated with the journal entries. There's always something new and fresh and interesting about them, and now that we've got some more info, I'm starting to be able to fill in a couple of the blanks. There's still so much we need to learn! I can't wait to find out more. :D

 

Oh, my gosh. Kennedy yelling at the soccer game. SO FUNNY.

 

The tension was almost thicker than the excitement in the air and I found myself watching the game with an intensity my dad would have been proud of.

 

DAAAAAANG. I hope you're proud of that one, because it was a good one.

 

Hmmm. I'm skeptical about this Scott thing. If that really is the resolution, I will be satisfied--but something tells me that that's not the full story. I think there might be something else. I don't trust this Scott guy. At first I was like, "WHAT IF THIS GUY IS ALEC??" But then he introduced himself as Scott. And he wasn't Alec. I don't know what you would've done with that, so it's probably better I was wrong. Haha.

 

That was a GREAT chapter. Not sucky at all. I'm pretty convinced you can't write a bad chapter. They're all awesome. I'm pretty sure I say this every time, but I think it's a good thing to point out: I wasn't bored once. It just all flows so well, and it's always interesting.

 

Well, happy birthday again! Hope it's been/will continue to be a good day. :)

 

xoxoArtemis


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#40 Jcrazy

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Posted 29 October 2013 - 06:39 PM

Do y'all realize how long it's been? It's been a ridiculous amount of time. Almost two months. Wow.

Mille May: I'm glad you thought their reactions to her fathers career were comical :) That was the goal! (Can we appreciate my pun?) More about the note Scott received is in this chapter, but much more about it will be revealed in the future... I'm really happy to hear that you think my writing sounds effortless. Sometimes I think the opposite, but I'm glad that's how it comes across. Thank you!

Artemis: haha oh my god this shows how long ago I updated. Thanks for the happy birthday :) THANK YOU for pointing out those few lines; there really was some sort of flow to them that I enjoyed too haha. Logan IS super adorable! Too adorable. Gah. I've got to do something to make him a little less likable ;) lol. Scott is NOT Alec, though I'll go ahead and say he will be appearing in the near future... Anyway thanks!

Chapter Eight
Liar Liar

The picture on the note was one from either my Facebook or Twitter. It was bad quality and I wondered how Scott had even been sure it was me, but my name was there too. It wouldn't have been hard to figure out where I was considering how often everyone had been talking about Callie and me those first few days.

Find this girl and talk to her. Say something to freak her out. Just confuse her.

It was just weird. Why would anyone make a request like that? What had I ever done? It didn't escape my thoughts that the note mentioned nothing about Callie.

Scott hadn't been much help, but at least he had turned out to be a nice guy instead of a weirdo. He had no information about Callie, saying that he hadn't been told anything about finding her. I had asked him a few more questions, but had gotten nowhere. I went back to my dorm instead of the soccer game, laying down in my bed and examining the note more thoroughly.

There was a knock on the door and I sighed, standing up, figuring it was Callie. She tended to accidentally leave her key in the room at least a few times a week. When I opened it, I was surprised to see Logan.

"Oh. Hi." I looked at him. His hair was damp and sticking to his forehead, but from the soapy clean smell he was giving off, I deducted it was from a shower and not sweat from the game.

The game. My eyes flashed to the watch he always wore and I realized it must have ended over an hour before. It felt like I had just been there moments ago, tracking down Scott.

"Hey," Logan said, looking at me curiously. "How are you feeling?"

I stared at his face blankly. "Huh?"

"Rachel said you didn't feel good... That you left the game early." He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, that." I nodded, immediately clutching my stomach with one hand and flailing the other one out to grip the doorframe. "Yes. Ow. Pain."

I was a terrible, terrible liar.

He lifted a bag I hadn't noticed he was holding. "Well, I brought soup."

"...Really?"

"Yeah. Kennedy has one of those cooking burners we're not supposed to have in her room. She let me make you some," he explained casually.

In addition to being a terrible liar, I was also an awful person. I left his soccer game and faked being sick... And now he was bringing me soup?

"You shouldn't have."

He really shouldn't have.

Logan shrugged. "No big deal."

"No... It is," I said, watching as he walked past me and started unloading things on my dresser. I closed the door and went to stand beside him.

"So, when I got sick freshman year year, Danny put Tabasco sauce in my soup, claiming it was the secret ‘cure’ to a cold. He put half a bottle in. I think I almost died." Logan laughed, handing me a bowl filled with soup and a bottle of orange juice, the kind that Grandover stocks in their vending machines. I was forever drinking multiple a day, a habit that Logan apparently hadn't missed. "Okay. Sit back down, eat, feel better."

I smiled, casting a guilty glance between Logan and the soup before sitting back down against my headboard. He sat at the foot of my bed and leaned against the wall, his feet dangling off the other side. He was wearing socks with his Adidas sandals, a fashion hell no that I frequently had to make fun of him for.

"Oh my God," I said after a few sips, dropping my spoon into the bowl. It clanked around noisily. "I didn't even ask. Did you guys win?"

He beamed and my stomach sank, knowing his reply before he said it. "Yep. Three to one."

I had not only missed the second half of the game... I had missed two goals and their first win of the season.

"Who else scored second half?"

Please don't say you did, please don't, please don't...

"I did... And Danny."

I groaned, dropping my face into my hands and shaking my head back and forth in what was probably an overly dramatic motion.

I had left their game...for a sheet of paper? It had seemed like a good reason at the time. But now? I had missed their first game and both of them scoring their first goals of the season. I was a sucky friend. And a liar.

"You should go celebrate. Why the hell are you here? Don't all teams have some after-the-win ritual?" I said. I had ruined both of our nights, hadn't I?

Logan shrugged. "They went to get donuts or something. I was going to invite you, but then Rachel told me you didn't feel good. No big deal. I don't mind just hanging out here for the night."

He was missing donuts. We were both missing donuts. I freaking loved donuts.

"I'm just sorry I missed you guys scoring... Really, I feel so bad about it... You should be eating donuts."

He frowned. "It's not your fault, Sam. You didn't feel good. I don't even really want a donut."

I felt incredibly guilty in that moment. Guilt never sat well with me and lying sat even worse. The urge to come clean suddenly outweighed the desire to keep the new information to myself.

"Ugh... Logan, I wasn't sick."

He blinked, his eyebrows raising. "What do you mean?"

So I told him. About Scott and the letter and lying and how I really did like donuts and would have loved to have gone with his team to eat them. He seemed mildly irritated when I first told him, but I think he saw how upset I had made myself over it.

"Was it Scott Powell? 'Cause I've been looking for an excuse to kick that guys ass for ages," was all he had to say when I finished.

I snorted out a laugh. "I don't know his last name, but it's okay. Scott was actually nice. He asked for my number in case he remembered anything else," I said, sitting my soup bowl down on my nightstand, grabbing the note that I had hidden beneath my history book.

"I'm sure that's why he asked for your number," Logan muttered as he examined the paper, eyes roving over each word carefully. "This is weird. Is that your Twitter picture?"

I shrugged, peaking over his shoulder to look at it. "Yeah, I think. God, that's a really bad picture. What the hell..."

He laughed before turning to face me, a more serious expression now appearing. "Listen, Sam, I don't care that you lied and missed my game. I get your reasoning. But you can just tell me the truth. I won't get mad. Promise."

His words made me think about his sister who he still hadn't said a word about. I wanted to say the same thing to him—tell me the truth. I still hadn't been able to think of a plausible reason why he wouldn't have mentioned Leanna had been in this same room the year before—that she had been Whitney's roommate. It seemed like a big deal and, if he wanted a no-secrets friendship, definitely something that should have already been addressed.

Clues had been there, I guess. The first he had been in my dorm room, back a couple days after I met him, he had seemed on edge. I had assumed that was going to be the normal reaction of anyone being in the room, but it made sense he would have more of a reaction than most people.

Instead of responding to his comment with any of this, I just nodded and smiled.

***

12-23-12

I did everything in my power to avoid coming home for Christmas and nothing worked. I'm here and Dad grabbed me the second I arrived and told me to not "f*ck things up." I've got this bruise on my side. I'm guessing that it's all I'm getting for Christmas.


12-25-13

I volunteered to give Dad and Lydia's kid (okay, her name's Kinley, and she's almost three) a bath after she got into the brownie mix. She had a small fading bruise on her back and when I asked her about it she just shook her head. I asked her if someone told her to shake her head and she nodded.


1-3-13

I finally got back to Grandover last night and got to see Alec. He asked me about the bruise and I told him. He seemed kind of angry, but I told him it was probably my fault. I should have known my dad well enough to anticipate something like it happening.

I asked him how his break was, but he didn't say much. It felt like he was avoiding something, but I'm probably wrong. I'm usually wrong. I'm always wrong.



I frowned and blinked, surprising myself when a tear splattered onto the page I was open to. I'd been caught up in Whitney's journal for more than half an hour, but the last few entries had been more startling than I had suspected. Her words were always oddly casual. The fact that she thought it was normal for her life to be the way it was...

"Are you okay?"

I glanced up and blinked again at Callie. She had come in a few minutes before and I had opted to hide the journal behind my Chemistry book as opposed to halting my reading.

"I'm fine," I answered automatically, shaking my head. "This is just some...deep reading."

"In...Chemistry?" She looked confused and I couldn't blame her.

"Yeah... The teacher warned us that electronegativity was some pretty powerful stuff."

Her expression was doubtful, but luckily she just shook her head and directed her attention back to her homework. I sighed.

It had been been more than a week since the boy's first soccer game and I had been adamant about attending the two since then. They had won both and I celebrated with them all each time, whether is be donuts or McFlurries. My time had been divided between soccer, homework, and classes. Because of this, moments to read the journal had been severely limited. When I told my dad I wasn't going to come home for the weekend, he just about flipped s.hit, but I managed to calm him down with a promise of another Olive Garden night.

I needed some time alone.Trying to read Whitney's journal was like watching a movie with my dad—we had to pause every five minutes so he could pee or get a snack or tell me a joke he remembered. Everyone around me somehow managed to interrupt me, but they wouldn't today. I had finished all my weekend homework the night before and had the entire day to bury my head in the journal and carefully read its' entirety.

When I felt like I had collected myself enough to return to the journal without turning into the girl who cried over electronegativity, I opened to the last page I had read. Just as I started to read, there was a light knock on the door. Callie and I exchanged a confused glance before I shrugged and stood up to see who it was.

Surprised didn't even begin to cover what I was feeling when I saw Kennedy standing in my doorway at one in the afternoon on a Saturday. I knew she always went home for weekends; her parents lived less than forty-five minutes from Grandover. What really had me wondering what was going on was the clipboard under her arm and the camera around her neck.

"Kennedy..." I blinked. "Why are—"

Her sigh interrupted me. "I really fudged up. God. I'm such a fudge up, Sam."

She didn't actually say fudge. Or fudged. But this wasn't new. Kennedy needed more censoring than The Hangover would if they tried to air it on ABC Family.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I was supposed to interview Coach Gallant yesterday for an article about his experience playing soccer and coaching, but I completely forgot." She let out a frustrated sigh. "So, now I'm in desperate need of a former soccer star to interview before Monday for the paper..."

Her expression said it all and I found myself reaching for my keys on the dresser, saying, "Alright, Kennedy. Let's go see my dad."

***

"Your dad is hot as hell." Kennedy was trying to whisper as we walked into the kitchen, but whispering wasn't something she could do well.

I sighed as I tugged open the door to the refrigerator. "Please don't say that. He's forty."

"He's sexy."

I gagged a little as I grabbed us each a Gatorade, noting that it was either that or beer.

I had called Dad on Kennedy's and my drive to the house, making sure he was home and that he was okay with giving an interview to Kennedy. Of course, he was completely thrilled with the idea. When we got there, he had already ordered us pizza and placed half a dozen photo albums of his "soccer days" on the coffee table.

In a moment of poor judgement, I had left Whitney's journal in my dorm. Because of this, I sat in complete boredom for two hours while Kennedy listened with rapt attention to my dad's stories and accomplishments, all of which I knew like the back of my hand.

Now that it was itching closer to dark, he had somehow suckered us into spending the night. I knew the journal wasn't going to disappear if I didn't read it immediately, but the urge to lock myself up and read it was a strange type of strong.

I looked back at Kennedy. "Did you get everything you needed for the interview?"

She nodded, twisting the cap off her drink. "Your dad's really awesome. I mean, he sounds like he was cool back then, but his personality now is what's amazing." Her expression changed as she looked back up to me. "You're like a more subdued version of him, you know?"

I laughed. "A lot more subdued."

My dad chose this moment to come racing into the kitchen, holding a stack of movies in his arms.

"Okay. It's not even seven. We have time to kill."

Two and a half really bad movies later, I was ready for bed. Dad had a thing for bad "inspirational" sports movies and I had a thing for poorly produced horror movies. Kennedy, sucker that she was, sided with my dad. Consistent whistles blowing and crowds cheering had kept me awake, but I was dead on my feet when Kennedy and I were walking back towards my room around midnight.

"Here," I said, tossing Kennedy a big shirt from my dresser before putting one on myself.

"Hey." Kennedy was suddenly beside me at my dresser, staring at the shirt I had given her in the mirror. It was a couple years old, a bright pink one that I had gotten in Disney World. "I think Leanna has this shirt."

I perked up, catching her eyes in the mirror. "Who?"

"Oh." She shook her head. "Leanna is Logan's sister. I forgot you haven't met her."

"Right." I nodded, the mention of Leanna stimulating my interest. It was about time someone told me something about her. "I wish I could meet her. Why didn't she go to Grandover this year?"

Kennedy turned towards my bed, shrugging as she did so. "It's a long story. She just had rather stay at home this year."

I followed her and sat down on the edge of my bed while she curled up on one side, tucking one of my pillows under her head. "Why would anyone not want to come back to Grandover?"

She shrugged some more. "A lot of people don't come back."

"That didn't answer my question," I said, then shut my mouth, cringing.

Kennedy raised her eyebrows, obviously curious as she lifted her head from the bed and stared up at me. "Have you heard something, Sam?"

"I just..." I looked down and picked at my quilt. "I heard that Leanna had my room last year."

"Dammit." Kennedy was sitting up now, across from me, frowning. "You weren't supposed to know that."

I blinked at her. "Why not?"

She sighed, sounding exasperated. "Logan told us not to tell you."

"But why?"

"Leanna was really upset all summer. Which, I mean, it figures. Whitney was one of her best friends and she found her dead." She paused and took a breath. "That would be really hard, you know? So Leanna was all depressed over the summer and by the time Logan came back to school, he had spent at least ninety percent of his vacation dealing with her. He was beyond done with hearing about it. We all just sort of agreed to not bring Whitney or Leanna up. I wrote that interview with you, but after that..." Kennedy shrugged.

"If Logan didn't want to have to deal with it...why did he even talk to me?" I was the last person who he should have associated with if he was trying to avoid people from room 226. If I recalled correctly, Logan came up and talked to me first that day in history class.

"He probably thought you were hot or something. I don't know, Sam. He's a guy."

I blushed as I frowned, still partially confused, but feeling like I had a better grasp as to why Logan hadn't mentioned Leanna's connection to Whitney before. It continued to bother me that I had left the journal back at Grandover, but maybe the unexpected trip home was more useful than reading would have been.


:)

I promise the next chapter won't take as long. I've already started on it.
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#41 24moon100

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Posted 31 October 2013 - 10:24 PM

YAYYYYYY. You updated! :D I'll have to be reading this soon! 


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#42 Meg_Rulz

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Posted 24 November 2013 - 07:47 AM

Simply awesome!

It's just that even though everything is getting so thrilling and mysterious it's still so funny!

Know what I mean?

(By the way, that "creepy guy" turned out perfectly nice! What a surprise!)


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