An Invitation To Kill

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2By eleven my stomach was turning inside out. I'd forgotten to bring some sort of snack, and I only had enough money to buy myself lunch today.

Texts from both Brett Rutherford and Nadine Shaw said they'd meet me at lunch around eleven. I found that all the rest of my morning classes were in the East Wing—which made my life easier. And I knew that my last class of the day was in the Art Building. Assuming I could find it again.

The cafeteria was down the hall from the commons, which I'd had a bird's-eye view of earlier. The cafeteria was buffet style, thankfully. I could choose from whatever I wanted and pay at one of two cashiers. Spaghetti was always my favorite, but not without meat, and this stuff looked and smelled generic with too much garlic. I went with roast chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy. I was starving after four hours. The green beans had once been green, but not since they'd clung to a vine. Chocolate pudding with whipping cream on top would lift my spirits and keep me going the rest of the day.

I text messaged Brett where I was so he could join me while I found a table next to a brick wall and no sooner sat down than heard Brett saying from three feet away, “Hey, Lainey. There you are. Been looking for you.” He put his tray down and sat across from me.

“Me? I've been lost most of the morning,” I said and made a half-hearted chuckle.

“You have a map app, don't you?”

“Yes. It's confusing. But I found my classes. Nearly all of them are in the East Wing. But my writing class is all the way in the West Wing. It takes a half hour to get from there to my math class. And she's a b***h, by the way.” I shoved some food into my mouth and looked up at his reaction. “What?”

“Wow. Rant much,” he said, placing his tray of lasagna opposite me.

“Sorry. I'm starving. I'm bitchy when I'm overly hungry.”

“Good to know. By all means eat something,” he said motioning to my plate, and tucked into his own food.

“Where'd you find the lasagna?” I asked, miffed.

“You gotta know your way around. Plus have friends deep in the system.” He was joking, of course. Maybe.

“Apparently.” I grabbed my chicken drumstick and snarfed it down in four bites. Holy cow I was hungry. I vowed I wouldn't utter another word until I had half my plate gone.

“Who did you say you had math class with?” Brett asked.

Chewing, I wiped my mouth with a brown napkin and said, “Ratner.”

“Old Rat Face?” He chuckled.

I snorted and nearly choked. “I knew I wasn't the first to give her that nick-name.”

He chuckled. “No. There are others, of course, but not ones I should say in front of a lady.”

“Oh, thank you sir,” I effected a British accent. We had been dating for about three weeks and had been slowly learning our likes and dislikes. So far our likes matched, and we were still working on our dislikes. Agreeing on which teachers we hated was one subject we warmed up to and began comparing notes from the past to now.

“Oh my god! Did you guys hear about the clown?” the excited voice belonged to Nadine who rushed up to our table and dropped her tray like a bomb. I noticed she had lasagna as well, plus a milkshake. Where on earth did you get a milkshake in this place?

“What clown?” Brett said. “Go ahead and sit down, please.” His sarcasm was lost on Nadine who'd already plopped her tiny bottom into the seat next to me.

I screwed my face up, determined to hear what she had heard about it, and didn't interrupt.

“It's all over school! Evil Clown Face—he's been on the school site and f******k spewing all sorts of nasty threats. Mostly to teachers and to girls.”

“For real?” Brett said, shaking his shaggy hair out of his eyes.

“No one knows who he is,” she went on, shoving a forkful of cheesy layers of lasagna into her mouth, chewed, swallowed and then sucked on the straw embedded in her chocolate milkshake. Somehow she would be able to eat and talk at the same time. I had no idea how she accomplished this, but it wouldn't surprise me if she could crochet at the same time as well.

“But if he was on the school site, he surely has an identity,” Brett pointed out.

“Of course he does!” Nadine said. “They'll find him if he used his own identity. But he could have hacked someone else's identity, too.”

“True.”

“I've seen him,” I stated. Elbow on table, looking out into the crowd, only now wondering if this guy would show his face anywhere in the school now. Or was he a total chicken after knowing he had been spotted?

Becoming quiet, Brett and Nadine fixed their stares on me.

“What?”

“You didn't!”

“I did,” I said.

“You didn't say anything to me,” Brett complained.

“I was eating. Besides, I'd forgotten. It was early when I saw him.”

“So, you saw the clown?” Nadine wanted clarification.

“No. I saw the guy, putting away his mask. I saw his face.”

“No. Way.” Nadine slurped on her shake. “When?”

“Right after he scared three girls. They ran one way, he went out a door and down into the courtyard. That's where I saw him.”

“Would you know him if you saw him again?” Brett asked.

“I could pick him out of a line up,” I said, smiling.

“How did you know he was the clown?”

I launched into the story of what had transpired hours ago while trying to find the East Wing. My story left Nadine speechless—a remarkable feat in itself. But she was first to pull out her phone and begin tapping out something. I grabbed her hand to stop her.

“Wait. What are you saying. And to whom?” I asked.

“Just putting it on my site that the clown's been ID'd by you.”

“No. Don't even say that.”

“She's right,” Brett said. “That could get the guy mad. Retribution would be his next step after learning who Lainey—or even you—are, and where you live.”

“Crap. You're right. What was I thinking?” She bit her lower lip looking at her smart phone. “I'll erase it. Oops.”

“What?”

She grimaced, teeth gritted as she hissed. “Oh, shit.”

“What did you do?” Alarm went through me.

“I somehow, by mistake, hit send.”

“Freudian slip,” Brett sat back, eyes shifting from her to me. “Are you on site?”

“Uh, I don't know.” I wasn't one to waste my time on such things. My life was full enough and I didn't need to go to the social network, or play games on-line, like Pokémon—the latest fad. Please. What a waste. I'd rather take a walk in the woods and bird watch.

Nadine was looking at her phone. “Wait. Yes. You're here, but you haven't announced yourself to the school's home site. None of your personal information is in here. And no picture.” She smiled brightly. “You're good.”

“That's good, isn't it?” I said, looking at Brett.

“Let me check.” Brett was using his phone to check it out.

“Can anyone see who she is?” Nadine asked. “I mean not just friends, but anyone?”

Embarrassed, I didn't look because I hadn't figured out how to find such sites as yet on my new phone. The computer was terrifying enough. I'd often had things just blip out of existence on a computer. This new phone had me all a dither, worried I'd post something I really didn't want to post.

“Oh, wait. I see.” He looked up. “Only your name's there but there's no picture, no description or anything.”

“Good. I'll fly under the radar.” At least for a while.

“But this is seriously creepy,” Nadine said, showing her phone's screen to Brett. “See?”

“Demented, this one is,” Brett said. “You're sure that was him?” He looked across to me.

“I saw him shoving a mask of some sort with crazy-colored hair into his backpack. If he wasn't doing anything wrong, why was he hiding in the courtyard looking around like someone might see what he was doing?”

“And you said he saw you,” Nadine reminded.

“Yes.”

“He might be looking for you.” Brett looked concerned. I didn't need them to tell me this.

Shrugging, I took up a spoon and began diving into my pudding as if I couldn't care less.

“Says here he terrorized some girls in the East Wing,” Nadine said, looking up at me.

“That's when I saw him,” I said. “What I mean to say is that I saw him afterwards. He'd already gone outside, down some steps into the courtyard. I've a feeling he knows this building inside and out.”

“You mean like he's not a first year student?” Nadine said.

“Yes. He's probably a sophomore.”

“That would be easy to check.” Nadine had a determined look on her face. “You did say you saw his face?”

“Yes.” She smiled, and looked like she had a plan.

“What classes do you have left today?” Brett asked me into the pause.

“Just an art class at one.”

“Do you have time after?” he asked.

“I do.”

“When?”

“Two -thirty.”

He turned to Nadine. “How's your schedule look?”

“I'm booked through four o'clock.”

“You sure took a lot of hours,” I said.

“Tell me about it. I think I'll have to drop one or two. I only have the weekend off.”

“You'll burn out,” I warned. She made a fist and lightly pounded herself on the forehead. “I know. I know. If it wasn't for my dad paying for tuition, I wouldn't even be going to school this year. It was like I became crazy with power.”

I smiled while eating my pudding. It was just the right consistency, thick as cheese cake.

“You still have that history class on Tuesday and Thursday nights?” she asked me.

“Ugh. Don't remind me.” I swirled my chocolate and whipped cream into an ugly mess.

“You have night class?” Brett asked, surprised.

“Unfortunately.” I rolled my eyes. “I couldn't fit it in anywhere else.”

“When's your music class?” he asked me.

“Piano,” I corrected. “On Tuesday and Thursday, nine AM. You'll have to show me where the music section is in the Arts Building.” I pulled out my map and unfolded it.

“Wait. What's that?” He pointed.

“My map of the building. I got it in the mail.”

He made a hissing sound. “No. Bring up your app.”

“What app?” I blinked up at him.

“Your map app.” I stared at him blankly. “You don't have the map app?”

I shook my head. I was a total i***t with my new phone.

“Hand it over. I'll get it up for you.” Brett held out his hand to me. I put my phone into his hand and he worked on putting up the map for campus and showed me how to use it. I was wary of this. I've lost such things before, and it wouldn't be the first time I messed up something on my phone as well.

After lunch we all had to part ways. Nadine was taking drama class. I didn't know she was into drama, but her brother was. Maybe he talked her into it. When I had chosen my classes, my aunt told me this was the opportunity for me to “find myself”. I actually liked that idea. Finding myself—or whatever interested me. Music and art had always been something I wanted to dabble in. I had been told when young that I was a talented artist. My interest in writing had come when I took the creative writing class in my senior year of high school. The need to explore everything made me feel like a spinning top, but I could only take so many hours. I had decided to see where my interests lie by dabbling in a few things in my first year.

I looked at the map on my phone and experimented with moving the map around. “Oh, there it is. And there's my art class.” I looked up. “Speaking of which, I've gotta go get my art supplies out in my car.”

“Now?” He checked the time. “You've still got a half an hour.”

“Oh. Yeah. I keep forgetting I get a whole hour off for lunch, now.

“Let's go to the commons,” he suggested.

We found our way back to the commons. It was similar to, but ten times larger and a hundred times better than my high school cafeteria. I'd heard people refer to it as “the pit” because that's what it was. It was lower than the main floor, about ten cement steps down on either end. People gathered in groups around the many tables. Some were round, some square but all were the dark brown fake-wood laminated tops. Lined up all along the wall were a variety of vending machines. I found I still had some money on me and bought a candy bar from one machine while looking down at my phone. Meanwhile Brett joined a large group of people around two tables shoved end-to-end.