Chapter 2: The Boy in Black

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December 15th, 1985

Samantha watched the lunch lady scoop a heaping mound of mashed potatoes onto her food tray and forced herself not to grimace

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Samantha watched the lunch lady scoop a heaping mound of mashed potatoes onto her food tray and forced herself not to grimace.  Instead, she said, "Thanks, Miss Brass," and the square-shouldered woman showed a wide gap-toothed grin.   

Harmony elbowed her back knowingly, but she wisely didn't react. 

"-Thank you!" she repeated.

Lunchtime, as always, was about mediocre food and loud socializing and this day was no different.  Students crowded their tables messing around, gossiping, and eating.

As usual, Samantha sat across from her friend Harmony, a whip-smart girl with jheri-curled hair,  mismatched earrings, and round eyeglasses, who was able to hold her own against anyone. She should've been in the art clique, but for her confidence and even sharper tongue, which made her more of a floater among the various cliques.  She leaned over the table and plucked a fish-stick from her tray.

Samantha picked up her banana and began to peel it  She was about to break it into pieces when she had the oddest sense that she was being watched.  The little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.   It actually affected her physically to the point where she felt an ominous flip in her chest.

She looked all-around the cafeteria, hoping to find the source.

At first, she saw nothing but the jocks.  This included Kyle, her ex-boyfriend, who was currently knocking yet another poor freshman's tray out of his hand.   

Then she spotted him...

Sitting in the outside eating area, on top of the picnic table all alone, staring through the floor-to-ceiling cafeteria windows directly at her.  He was tall, dark-haired, and lanky.  He wore all-black clothing and heavy Doc Marten boots.  He was smoking a cigarette and there was no sign of any lunch. 

As their eyes met, he raised his cigarette to his lips for one last deep drag.  He then gracefully slid his body off the table and made his way towards the double-doors, leading into the school, flicking the butt away as he went.

"Hey Harmony, do you know that boy over there?"  Sam asked.

Harmony looked over just in time to catch a glimpse before he disappeared through the doors.  

"Mm, no. I think he's new.  ...Looks like one of the burn-outs, though."

The burn-outs were the counter-culture kids; self-loathing, deeply into Bauhaus and chain-smoking.

"Why do you ask?  Going for something edgier since your jock proved disappointing?" Harmony teased.

Sam scrunched her face and laughed. "Eww. No.  -Not even once. I'm not trying to smell like cigarettes twenty-four-seven."

"Then why did you ask?" she pressed.

"I caught him staring just now.  It was weird."

Harmony rolled her eyes.  "We're hot senior girls! It's to be expected," she said with an exaggerated flip of her hair.  "Now come on, we've got to drop off these task lists for the Snow Ball planning committee."


///



Samantha skipped the last half of study hall. -One of the perks of being a senior.   She stood at her locker and organized her books and supplies for the second half of the day.  As she finished up and closed her locker, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw that boy she'd seen looking at her earlier, casually leaning against the adjacent lockers.

Now that she got a closer look, she had to admit he wasn't bad-looking.  Cute actually, in a broody way.

"Samantha Barry, right?" he said, as he pulled the lime sucker he was enjoying from his mouth.

"Yeah...  Sam, actually.  Do I know you?"

He shrugged noncommittally. "-Nicholas,  Nick actually. It's my first day.  The guidance counselor told me you were the one I should talk to if I wanted to be shown around."

"Did he?" she replied sarcastically.

"Yeah.  Said you were friendly, top marks, a good role-model. The whole thing," he replied, not taking the bait.  "Finishing out my Senior year in a brand new town isn't exactly the easiest adjustment."

 She sighed.  "What do you need?"

He leaned in closer, just within her personal space.   Sam could smell lime candy and a hint of smoke.

"Where's room 314?"  

Sam actually laughed.  She raised her arm and pointed directly across from where they stood, less than six feet away.  

"It's literally right there.  Big-ass sign and everything," she said, with more than a little attitude.

"Well, how about that."  Nick smirked a bit, not even bothering to look in the direction she was indicating. Instead, he gave her a strangely assessing look, stuck the Dum Dum lollipop back into his mouth and dropped a cherry one on top of the binder, currently in her hands. 

"Thanks, Sam," he replied and walked down the hall away from room 314.


///

Sam thought she probably should be offended or beyond creeped out, but she wasn't

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Sam thought she probably should be offended or beyond creeped out, but she wasn't.  Mostly she just had the strangest sensation that she'd seen that boy somewhere before... 

She was, however, definitely creeped out by the man currently approaching her, Mr. Stacks, the swim coach.  He was always touching her inappropriately and talking about the fitness of her body. It freaked her out.  Swim practice didn't officially start until February, but the varsity members, including herself did compete in a few indoor exhibition events before then.  All of the girls on the team did their best to not be alone with the guy.

She looked around hoping there were other students wandering around or even better, a teacher.  But there was no one else.  She was alone.

She tried to slip by without acknowledging him.

"Whoa, Samantha. Slow down."  He actually grabbed her by her arm to slow her, his hand brushing the side of her breast.  She cringed back from him, and plastered on a fake smile.

He chuckled.  "You ready for the Swimming Exhibition after Christmas break?" 

"Yeah. I'll be ready."

"Awesome!  Good girl."  The balding mustached man licked his lips. "-because I noticed that at the last meet, you seemed to have put on some weight."

Again he reached out to touch her, attempting to pinch her hip.  She stepped just out of reach and hugged herself.  This time she did not even attempt a placating smile.

"-Coach, don't ."

"Don't what?"  he blinked, feigning ignorance.  "It's my job to make sure that you're in tip-top shape."

"You know what I mean...  I can stay in shape without you constantly poking at me."

"But then how would you know which areas you need to work on?" 

"Please... Just -don't."

He chuckled a bit, trying his best to make this appear completely innocent. "Come on. It's all part of the sport!  I just was trying to-" but he didn't get to finish. 

He abruptly stopped talking, and blinked once, slowly.  His eyes rolled up into his head and he fell backwards, slamming into hard linoleum.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Somebody get someone! HELP!" Sam shouted just as the class-bell rang.

The hallways quickly filled with people and Sam was pushed away as the buzz around Mr. Stacks increased.  She felt woozy.

She burst into the mercifully empty girls' bathroom and vomited into the nearest toilet.  She felt a little better after.  She then went to the nearest sink, washed her hands and rinsed out her mouth.  She looked up at her reflection and spotted a bit of dried blood below one of her nostrils.  

"Shit."
  She grabbed a brown paper towel from the dispenser, dampened it and dabbed the spot beneath her nose.

She was about to leave when she spotted someone else standing behind her in the mirror.

It was Nick.

She whipped around to confront him about following her into the girls' room, but was stopped cold when she saw him swipe at his nose too.

"We need to talk."








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