2 Whispering (5 page)

I told Paris about my run-in with Professor Blake as we walked back to the dorm rooms. She didn’t seem surprised.

“You had to know he would seek you out.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I think I was just hoping he would wash his hands of me. I have a bad attitude, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Paris laughed. “I just didn’t think you would admit it.”

“I don’t understand why he just won’t leave me alone.”

“You’re obviously important to them for some reason,” Paris said. “Have you considered sitting down and talking to him? Just asking him what he wants?”

“The thought never crossed my mind,” I bit back sarcastically. “I’ve asked him numerous times. I told you, everyone there seems to know something about me but when I ask what that is, they either avoid the question or flat out lie.”

“Tell him the only way you’ll cooperate is if they tell you the truth,” Paris suggested.

“You’re missing the point,” I countered. “I don’t want to cooperate with them. They’re creepy.”

“They think what they’re doing is right,” Paris said. “Even if they don’t realize that all monsters are not created equal.”

“Hitler thought what he was doing was right, too,” I pointed out.

“You’re comparing Sam Blake to Adolph Hitler?” Paris looked surprised.

“Why not? He wants to eradicate those that are different, too. Thankfully, he’s fairly inept in his methods.”

“That’s true,” Paris agreed. “Let’s just hope Professor Blake doesn’t have a crematorium on campus that we don’t know about.”

Now that was a sobering thought.

Once we got back to the dorms, we watched television for a little while – I can’t tell you how excited I am that Robin Scorpio is back on
General Hospital
– and then started discussing dinner.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, turning my attention to Brittany. She was back on the floor in the center of room with her glue stick and little pieces of paper.

“I’m eating with my pledge sisters tonight,” Brittany said, avoiding my gaze.

“Why?” The question was out before I even thought about the ramifications of it.

“We have to,” Brittany said simply. “Our pledge mistress ordered it.”

“So you have to eat with certain people?”

“I do. It’s not a big deal,” Brittany said dismissively.

It seemed like a big deal to me. I wasn’t Brittany, though. I couldn’t let others think for me – and she seemed to be perfectly comfortable with it most of the time.

“Well, have fun with your pledge sisters,” I said half-heartedly as I got to my feet and left the room with Paris. Once we were out in the hall, I turned to her. “I hope she moves into her sorority house next year so we don’t have to think of an excuse of why we don’t want to live with her.”

Paris frowned. “You need to cut her some slack.”

“You don’t find that attitude of hers . . . annoying?”

“I do,” Paris ceded. “I find you constantly jumping all over her annoying, too.”

“I don’t constantly jump all over her,” I started to protest, but then thought better of it. She did rub me the wrong way. I wasn’t exactly nice to her. “Fine. I’ll try to be nicer to her.”

“You always say that,” Paris argued.

“She always does something to make me regret that choice,” I pointed out.

Paris sighed. “It’s like I’m still living at home and dealing with my fighting sisters.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I smirked.

“It wasn’t meant as one,” Paris said.

Once we got down to the cafeteria, I pushed my argument with Brittany – and Paris’ consternation – out of my mind. It was potato bar night – the happiest of all nights. Paris and I loaded up our trays and then looked for a place to sit. We settled at an empty table that had two extra seats and hungrily dug in.

Our table was quiet for the next few minutes as we shoveled food into our mouths. We both seemed to be content with the silence – mostly because we were trying to let the awkwardness of our previous conversation fall away.

“Hey, can we sit with you guys?”

I looked up, hurriedly wiping the cheese from the corner of my mouth, and smiled as I saw Mark and Zach standing next to our table.

“Sure,” Paris hurriedly interjected. “We would love the company.”

Zach and Mark took the two empty seats. I could tell they liked the potato bar as much as we did since they both had three heaping potatoes on their plates.

The conversation over dinner was fairly easy. Everyone discussed their first day of classes, the long wait until February when
The Walking Dead
would return and how sad it was to see anyone in Ed Hardy clothes these days. It was a relief to keep the conversation away from supernatural beings and annoying roommates, for a change.

I wasn’t surprised to see that Paris was openly flirting with Mark. So much for her relationship with Mike being on solid ground. For his part, Zach was trying to flirt with me in the same manner. I didn’t exactly dissuade him, but I wasn’t as in to it as Paris was. I liked Zach. He was cute and friendly – even if one of his pant legs was tucked into his boot and one of them wasn’t. He didn’t seem to be obsessed with monsters – or fashion. He was safe. He was also boring – uneven haircut not withstanding.

I was busy watching Paris and Mark when I saw Mark’s face suddenly redden and he started to choke on the big bite of baked potato he had just shoved into his mouth.

“Take smaller bites,” I admonished him. “The potato will still be there in a few minutes.”

Paris laughed.

Mark swallowed hard. “It’s not the potato.”

“Then what is it?” I asked nervously. I swear, if I turn around and a vampire is sucking from the cafeteria lady I’m going to pitch such a fit.

“You have to see it for yourself.” Mark’s voice was a mixture of grim resignation and amused anticipation. It was an interesting combination.

I took a deep breath and glanced over my shoulder, nearly falling out of my chair as I did so. What had caught Mark’s attention wasn’t some supernatural being on a feeding frenzy. It was something much more mundane – and equally scary. It was Brittany and her band of sorority sisters. They were making their way through the food line, which wasn’t exactly attention grabbing in and of itself, but what they were wearing was.

“Are they wearing matching teddy bear sweatshirts?” Zach asked with obvious confusion.

“Yeah, and pigtails,” Paris sputtered.

“With matching ribbons,” I offered.

“Why?” Mark asked.

“That’s her pledge class,” Paris supplied.

“Pledge class? She’s rushing a sorority?” Mark seemed flabbergasted.

“Zeta Omicron.”

“The geek sorority?” Mark asked. “That makes sense, I guess. They probably don’t do any real hardcore hazing. This is as dirty as they can think.”

“What’s a geek sorority?” Zach asked curiously.

“It’s not a geek sorority,” Paris chastised. “It’s a honors sorority. They’re all serious students. They’re not in it to party like everyone else.”

“Then why join?”

That was the question of the day, wasn’t it? “I think she just wants to belong,” I said finally.

Paris glanced at me appraisingly. “I think so, too. I don’t think she feels like she fits in with . . .”

“Normal people?” Mark offered.

“Us,” Paris corrected him.

“We’re definitely not normal people,” I agreed.

“You’re better than normal,” Zach said. “You’re amazing.”

I felt the color rush to my cheeks as I looked down at my plate. He was laying it on a little thick. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” Mark asked pointedly.

This was so not where I wanted this conversation to go. Mark was a member of the monster hunters club and I didn’t want that to become a topic of conversation – for Zach’s sake, as well as my own.

“I mean that everyone is quirky in their own way,” I hurriedly answered. “Brittany is just not the same type of quirky that I am – that you are – that Paris is.”

“That’s true,” Mark said. “Even in high school she hung around the academic clubs and the band geeks instead of the partiers and skateboarders. That’s where she feels comfortable.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” I teased Mark. “Besides, I don’t think she’s coordinated enough to ride a skateboard.”

“Neither are you,” Mark laughed, reminding me of the previous semester and my lack of skateboarding prowess.

“You have a point.”

Despite the fact that I was trying to be nicer to Brittany, I couldn’t help but fixate on her and her other pledge sisters. In fact, they were the center of attention in the cafeteria – although most people were making fun of them. As much as Brittany rubbed me the wrong way, I wasn’t a big fan of group bullying. I preferred it to be a solitary endeavor.

Brittany and her pledge sisters – eight girls in total – found a big table at the outskirts of the eating area and sat down. I could tell that they were trying to avoid listening to the laughs and whispers that surrounded them, but they obviously weren’t being successful. Suddenly I felt sorry for Brittany. She was just trying to find people she could feel like herself with, after all. I made a mental note to try and be more patient with her.

Paris watched me as I watched Brittany. It was like she could read my mind. “Just try to think before you make fun of her,” she said in a low voice.

“I will,” I said honestly. “It’s going to be hard if she keeps wearing that sweatshirt, though.”

“I know,” Paris sighed. “Where did she even find that?”

“It’s hers,” Mark said around a mouthful of potato.

“How do you know that?” I turned to him expectantly.

“She wore it to the senior homecoming game back in high school,” Mark answered.

Good grief.

“You still have to try,” Paris said firmly, although doubt was starting to creep into her voice. “It’s only fair.”

This was definitely not going to be easy.

The next day was a whole new set of classes to contend with. I started my day with my computer lab. I was pretty self-sufficient on computers, so I was actually looking forward to something that was more hands on than academic. That’s just what the computer lab promised to be.

When I entered the classroom, which was in the basement of Matheson Hall, I glanced around at the workstations. It wasn’t a very big class – twenty students max – and wherever you sat was going to be your seat for the entire semester. That’s what the sign in the front of the room said, at least.

Therefore, picking whom you sat next to was more important than the actual curriculum of the class. If you sat next to someone who was annoying, then you were stuck there. Thankfully, I didn’t think that was going to be a problem for me. In the back row of the class, my eyes landed on a familiar face.

I made my way to the two-person station and slid into the open seat. The girl sitting in the other seat brushed her long dark hair out of her eyes and met my gaze. “Hey, Laura,” I greeted her.

Laura was a student from my dorm – my floor actually – that I had met last semester. She was kind of a free spirit – which I liked – and she was easygoing. She wasn’t intense and boy crazy like Matilda. She wasn’t obsessive and goal-oriented like Brittany. She was just friendly and likable.

“Hey, Zoe,” she smiled when she saw me. “You’re in this class, too?”

“I am.”

“Well at least I won’t have someone annoying sitting next to me all semester,” Laura laughed.

I didn’t tell her that was exactly what I had been worried about, too. Instead I asked her about her Christmas vacation. I realized I hadn’t seen her in the few days I had been back on campus.

“It was fun,” Laura said. “I pretty much just hung around with my family and some friends from high school. I even went to a party with Paris while I was home.”

“You went to high school with Paris?” Did I know this? I couldn’t remember. It seemed like something that would stick out, though.

“Yeah, we’ve been friends for years.”

“Why aren’t you ever down visiting her?”

“I don’t know,” Laura shrugged. “She just seems different here than at home. It’s not a big thing.”

It seemed like a big thing to me. “How come you guys didn’t try to be roommates?”

Laura shrugged again. “I don’t know. We just didn’t.”

Something odd was going on here. If they were friends in high school, why didn’t they spend any time together now? Of course, I had opted for a college that none of my high school friends were going to simply because I wanted a break from them. Maybe it was the same for Laura and Paris? It really wasn’t any of my business, I reminded myself.

“So, what else is going on?”

“Not much,” Laura said. “I’ve just been hanging out, getting into the swing of my new classes, you know, the usual.”

“You know you can come down and hang out with us whenever you want,” I said carefully. “You’re always welcome.” Laura had been there for me when I was in the midst of a fight with Brittany last semester. I genuinely liked her.

“I will,” Laura said noncommittally. “It’s just been a busy couple of days.”

I pondered Laura’s sudden aloofness. I couldn’t figure out what was going on here and – try as I might to pretend it wasn’t – it was driving me crazy. “Is there something you’re not telling me?” I asked finally.

“No. Have you seen Mark?”

I was surprised by the sudden change in Laura’s demeanor. Mark had been with Laura and I when we bonded last semester. This was a new wrinkle. “Yeah. I had dinner with him last night, in fact. Although,” I broke off laughing. “I think he was more interested in having dinner with Paris than me.”

“What do you mean? Is he with Paris?” Laura was suddenly very interested in the topic of conversation.

“No,” I said carefully. “I just think there’s a flirtation going on there.”

“What about Mike?”

“You know Mike?”

“He lives with my brother.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“It’s not like it was a secret,” Laura said quickly.

‘I’ve never seen you at any of their parties,” I pointed out.

“I don’t really want to party with my brother.”

I could see that, but something else was definitely going on. “Do you like Mark?”

Laura quickly shifted her gaze. “He’s a nice guy. I was just asking.”

“I think you like him,” I said finally. “It’s okay to like him, you know.” I didn’t think Paris would be happy about that, though. That was something to deal with later, if ever.

“I know it’s okay, but I just think he’s a nice guy,” Laura said. “I don’t like him.”

“Okay,” I nodded. “You don’t like him.”

“I don’t,” she repeated.

She definitely liked him.

“I don’t,” Laura’s voice trailed off.

I think she was relieved the conversation was stalled by the arrival of the professor. The first day was just the basics of logging on and then we were allowed to just play with and acquaint ourselves with the programs. Nothing taxing – thankfully.

After class ended, Laura made a hasty retreat. I could tell she didn’t want me to ask any further questions about her crush on Mark. I was in an awkward position as it was. Sure, Paris was still with Mike, but I had a feeling that relationship was on its last leg. If Paris and Mark got together, what would that do to Laura? And what was the deal with Paris and Laura anyway? I made a mental note to question Paris about the relationship when I returned to the dorms later.

Unfortunately for me, the other class that day was Psychology 101. Instead of being in the middle of campus – like the rest of my classes, though – it was on the far edge of campus in one of the older buildings. I had ten minutes to get to class and I figured it would take me that long to get out there so I set out quickly. I didn’t want to be late on my first day – even if it was for a class I was only taking to avoid a real science class.

When I got to Barnes Hall with a few minutes to spare I was relieved. The building was beautiful – and quite different from the other buildings I had attended classes in on campus. Barnes was clearly built decades ago. It was more ornate than the other buildings on campus – complete with two eerie cement gargoyles by the front door. I couldn’t help but like the moss covered walls and quiet atmosphere that surrounded the building, though.

From what I understood, Barnes Hall was mostly empty. The upper floors, in fact, were completely empty. There were only ten rooms still in operation on the main floor. I had no idea why, though. Sure, the building was old, but it was beautiful and full of history. It seemed to me that they would want to utilize the history of the building.

I found my way to my classroom relatively easily and found a seat. I didn’t know anyone in the class – which was actually a relief for me. This way I could just sit with my thoughts and pretend I was interested in psychology.

Once the professor entered the classroom, though, I realized this was probably going to be the worst class on my slate this semester – and that included math. The professor was a middle-aged woman with
a pinstriped power suit and a bored expression on her face. When she started the lecture, I realized it was straight out of the textbook. Word for word, in fact. This was clearly a professor that was only here for a paycheck. If it was a class I cared more about, I would have probably been irritated. Since it was a class I was taking just for credits, though, I tamped that irritation down. At least I wasn’t going to have to tax myself in this class. Everything was in the textbooks. I would be fine.

When class was over, I waited until the rest of my classmates had filed out before I left. I wanted to look around the old building – although I didn’t know exactly why. There was just something about the architecture that was calling to me – and it wasn’t the classes held inside its hallowed walls.

The building had cleared out pretty quickly – which I was thankful for. I plodded down the hall, glancing into classrooms as I went. All of them were empty, though. When I made it to the end of the hall, I found a set of locked glass doors and a stairwell that led upstairs.

There was nothing else here, I guess. Oh well. It was still a beautiful building. I moved to head back down the hall and leave when I heard a terrific crash. I froze when I heard the noise and glanced around for the source of it. It had been a loud bang – like the sound of a door slamming. All the doors in the hallway I had just traversed had been closed, though. So what door had slammed?

I heard the noise again, only this time I realized the sound was coming from upstairs. An upstairs that was supposed to be vacant and empty.

I considered climbing the stairs to investigate and then stopped myself. This is where people always make their mistakes in horror movies. They go to check out the noise instead of running in the opposite direction. I had always told myself I would never be one of those girls – the ones that check out a noise and end up with a giant knife jutting from their neck. I wasn’t stupid, after all.

The sound of another door slamming upstairs made me jump. I silently chastised myself for letting everyone else leave the building while I remained behind. This might be funny situation if I wasn’t alone.

By the time the fourth slam reached my ears I had already made the decision. I reached for the stairway door, telling myself that it would be locked and this wouldn’t be an issue. When the door opened easily I mentally cursed myself again. It looked like I was going to be the stupid horror movie girl after all.

I took a deep breath and started to climb the stairs. How bad could this be? I had a feeling I was going to wish I’d never asked that question. I was right.