Once

Sixteen

They met Sellan outside Bertram's Books. He was empty-handed. He just gave a shrug and mixed in with the ranks as they trudged on down the street.

Elle had been walking just a little way behind the others, and he fell into line beside her.

"Morning, Elle," he said.

Elle suppressed a desire to give him a suspicious frown. It was insanely rare for Sellan to initiate a conversation. It was enough of an event for him to even participate in one.

"Morning, Sellan."

They walked a few paces in silence. It wasn't comfortable, like the ones she kept having with David. Sellan was gearing up to say something, and the quiet between them was heavy with the expectation of it.

Finally he spoke.

"Listen, Elle. Is everything alright?"

She felt a shiver go through her. She hadn't realised her apparent breakdown was obvious enough for even Sellan to notice.

"I'm fine, Sellan. Why wouldn't I be?" Her voice was just a bit too bright, a bit too forced.

"No reason, I guess. It's just that you seemed really out of it yesterday. When we came out of that talk with Mr Luzlic you looked like you were going to be sick."

Elle looked away sharply. She hadn't realised it had been as bad as all that. Then again, she'd never been known for her ability to play it cool.

"Thanks for the concern, Sellan. But really, I'm fine. Maybe I'm coming down with something."

Sellan nodded quietly. He spent a lot of his time nodding quietly to himself. Elle realised with some surprise that she'd never really thought too deeply about Sellan before. He was a much deeper person than any of them really gave him credit for.

"Well. I just hope you're alright," he said.

He didn't say anything else, but funnily enough Elle did feel better. It was nice to know her friends were looking out for her.

Less nice to know they literally all thought she was losing her mind.

"Here we are!" Russell declared excitedly from up ahead.

They came to a halt at the top of Bank Street. Ahead of them, sandwiched between the Ginger Cat Cafe and a closed-down antique store was a dingy, narrow shop with a faded orange sign over its grimy windows.

"The Pumpkin Patch," David read from its sign. "What is it?"

"It's the only half-decent shop in this whole godforsaken town, that's what it is," Russell said.

"Secondhand clothes," Elle said.

"Vintage," Russell corrected.

Elle rolled her eyes.

"Come on then," she said. "Let's just get it over with. This place gives me the creeps."

They all trooped into the shop to the jangling of an old bell above the door.

*

Elle wasn't lying: The Pumpkin Patch always did give her the creeps. The whole place was packed front to back with piles and piles of fusty old clothes. It stank of must and mothballs, and round every corner were creepy mannequins dressed up in mouldy fur coats, with hollow plastic eyes gazing out under the veils of their old-fashioned hats.

Russell and Jax charged straight through toward the back wall. They were chatting excitedly - Elle heard something about prom, and rolled her eyes. She had no clue what they could be looking for. They'd both had their prom outfits hanging on their wardrobe doors for weeks now.