v2.0 C8.2

From C8.1:

Yelena’s eyes narrowed, but her lips curled up slightly at the corners. “Hey, are you playing baseball?”

The girl flashed the ball that she’d been sent to retrieve in front of Yelena’s face. “Yep.”

“Count me in! Oh, wait. Maybe not today. Are you playing tomorrow?”

“Every Tuesday afternoon. We play on Wednesdays sometimes. But it’s getting cold, so maybe we’ll stop for a while.”

“That’s great! Now I’ve gotta go, my bus’s coming!” Yelena dragged me out of the school.

“See you, Katherine, Yelena!” The girl waved, baseball in the air.

“Bye!”

-

I sighed. Spirit week was just round the corner, and homecoming dance came straight after that. Erica was getting on my nerves, pestering me every other hour that I needed to go shopping for clothes in preparation for the upcoming festivities. Festivities. Somehow that word did not bode well.

The current situation that I found myself in wasn’t very appealing either.

“So, what are you going to wear to the dance?” Sharron peered at me inquisitively as we walked along the street.

I grimaced. “I told you, I’m not going to the dance.”

“No way. You are going to the dance. That’s final.” Sharron intoned. “I disagree with some people that high school’s all about boys and dancing, but hey, there are dances and it’s all part of life at high school. You can’t escape from life.”

Her reasoning was sound, I couldn’t fault her there. But still…

“I just can’t go.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

I groaned. She had me there. “I’m skipping the dance.”

“No, you won’t. Fine, I’ll stop Erica from dressing you up.”

“Oh?” I frowned at the pavement, scuffing my feet on the concrete.

“Yes. We can go together and you can pick your own dress and everything. Fair enough?”

“My own dress?” My voice went up an octave. I forced myself to relax. In a normal tone, I added, “No. No dresses or skirts.”

“But it’s a dance. A dance is a dance! You’ve got to wear something…”

Her voice trailed away as someone forced his way between the two of us.

“Hey!” Sharron exclaimed, brushing herself down. She glared at the shadowy figure that was dashing away.

I stared at the person’s back, stunned momentarily. Then I blinked. For a brief second, when the sunlight had fallen directly on the person, I had seen a bright flash. A bright flash near the boy’s left hand.

Intuition told me it was a knife.

The weather seemed really cold all of a sudden.

*

Having finished all of the important assignments my teachers had set me, I leaned back in my chair, gazing out of the window. The trees were losing the first of their leaves with the onset of autumn. They fluttered in the air, almost like butterflies, finally free to go wherever they wished. There was a certain beauty in death that was unsullied by fear, that was wholly natural.

Presently, a few leaves crunched against the glass of the window pane on my right, startling me from my reverie. I focused on the leaves. The colours were so beautiful. I smiled slightly; I’d always liked autumn, as it heralded the arrival of winter, and with winter came snow. Lovely, brilliantly white snow.

I wondered what my brother thought of autumn. He probably didn’t like the season much, seeing as it affected the growth of most of his plants. Well, those that were deciduous, at any rate. He probably hated winter too. But at least the greenhouse kept out the worst of the season. I wondered what he’d do with the plants outside the greenhouse. Let them be exposed to the elements? Highly unlikely.

I stared at the organiser in front of me, which was bathed in the warm yellow glow of the desk lamp. Hmm. I’d yet to read the notes Mr Grimm had handed to me. Oh, and the essay on Andy Warhol too. That was due on Monday. But most of my weekend would be spent at Summit Central. Excellent. Or not quite. I fervently hoped that the snowboarding trip the day after tomorrow would be full of snow.

“Katherine!” Ma called. She was speaking in English. That was unusual.

“Yes, Ma?” I hollered through the open door.

“Your…” I heard a slight commotion downstairs. That must be Feathers. Then I heard a yelp. Yes, most definitely Feathers.

I sighed ruefully. What was he playing at now? “Feathers?” I shouted.

Almost immediately, something golden and furry hurtled into my room, almost crashing into my table. The dog practically went berserk in my room, jumping around in a frenzy.

“Whoa. Slow down, Feathers.” I bent down to stroke his soft thick coat.

I heard a slight scuffle near the staircase landing. “Doggy?”A high sweet voice intoned. Feathers tensed at the sound of the voice. Wasn’t that Erin? What was she doing here? I turned to look out of the door just in time to see a small figure heading into my brother’s room. Oh heck.

“Stay, Feathers. Stay.” I petted him one last time before heading out of the room. He whined as I went out to the landing.

“Flowers!”

I winced as the squeal resonated throughout the house. Bro was going to slaughter me if Erin did anything to his beloved orchids.

“Erin?” I called, hoping desperately that she would get distracted and come out of the room.

“Kathy!”

I breathed a sigh of relief as a tiny figure came out of the room almost immediately. “Thank goodness you…”

I halted in midstride, staring at her sphagnum moss-covered hands. “Flipping heck,” I muttered with emotion.

The sound of footsteps from the staircase behind me heralded my mother’s arrival. I heard her gasp.

Then another small voice piped up, “What did you do, Eree?”

I glanced backwards and saw Cara sighing. She looked older than six. Chris appeared to be both embarrassed and apologetic behind her.

I turned back to face Erin. Innocent green eyes peered up at me.

“I was just picking some flowers.”