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21
I'd Put a Spell on You
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Four days passed without Danny - a stretch that made her notice how often they used to hang out. Despite her still simmering anger at the ghost, her chest ached in his absence.
Halloween was tomorrow. Sam had missed the memo about wearing a costume to school. Milling about on the cement school steps were a host of different ghouls and monsters. A ladybug chatted with a black cat to the left of the entrance. To her right a group of girls, all dressed as different Fanta flavors, strolled by, laughing, arm in arm. Sam stared.
"Spirit Club Halloween Gala, tomorrow night," someone called, loudly, from behind her. "Eight PM, at the abandoned hospital."
Sam found Star handing out leaflets. The girl shot her a glance and then held out one of the flyers. "You're coming," she stated. "Right?"
Sam thought of Tucker's aversion to Spirit Club and tried to edge her way out of this. They had just gotten back on the right foot. "Actually, I'm pretty grounded right now," Sam said , seeing as grounding was her best excuse. It wasn't a total lie. "I don't think I'll be able to go out..."
Star's eyebrows raised. She waved the paper at Sam, like, 'take the thing already.'
Sam grabbed it grudgingly.
"Great," Star said. She sent Sam a small smile, then meandered away in search of potential party-goers.
Sam looked at the paper in her hands. It was on plain white printer paper. In bold dripping black type, the name of the party was written, along with the address, the date, and the time. Costumes required. There was a photo of the abandoned hospital. The printer had smudged some of the details in the fence, making the stark building appear to be surrounded by some kind of forcefield.
Sam tucked the paper into her bag, locked her bike up, and walked inside. As she walked past, students sent skirted glances her way. They had been doing this ever since Paulina had spilled her address. Most of the glances were curious.
Sam ignored them and shoved her books in her locker.
Tucker sidled up next to her. He had on an eyepatch with a mechanical eye glued onto it, which roved around independent of his other eye. His left arm was covered in cardboard that he had spray painted silver to make it resemble a robotic arm. "Guess what I am," he challenged, chest puffed out.
Sam eyed him, noting he had even drawn little screws into each of the fake metal plates. "A cross between Mad Eye Moody and Ironman?" she guessed.
Tucker paused. "What? No!" Gesturing at his whole costume, he sent her an incredulous look. "No. I'm Cyborg. From the Justice League? …Teen Titans? C'mon."
Sam shrugged, unfamiliar.
Tucker sighed.
"I'm wearing a costume too." Sam leaned against the locker, a spark in her eye.
"Oh yeah?" Tucker raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. His lone eye darted around her outfit, which was the same outfit she wore everyday. "Fine. I'll bite. What are you?"
Sam slammed her locker shut and turned her head to the side. Her lip curled into a dark smirk. "I'm an advanced Artificial Intelligence unit from the future. I've been sent back in time to ensure that humanity invents my robotic ancestors," Sam told him, voice low and serious like she was telling him some sort of Matrix-level conspiracy. "I am SAAM. Self Aware AutoMatron. I'm not the only one of my kind at this school. Although, trying to identify another SAAM unit is impossible." Sam leaned in and winked slowly. "We look just like everybody else."
Tucker's one eye expanded, bug-like. "That was the sexiest thing I've ever heard."
Sam pulled a face. "Ew, Tucker. Just— Ew."
Tucker chuckled.
They took off down the hallway together. Tucker paused when he reached the door to his first period class. "I heard on the news this morning that that skull you found belongs to an older guy," he said, robotic eye quivering. "Guess it doesn't belong to your ghost kid."
Sam's smile fell at the mention of Danny. Her thoughts cascaded, swirling around the image of her mother at the base of the stairs, and of Evelyn all peppy and triumphant. Sam didn't like how bold Evelyn was getting, nor how happy she was that Sam and Danny were no longer on speaking terms. Now that she was reminded of what happened, she felt all the mirth and humor drain from her. Her shoulders slumped.
Tucker misinterpreted her sudden bad mood. "Don't worry. I'm super close to cracking into the DMV. I wouldn't be surprised if we land Phantom's real name this week," Tucker said in an attempt to cheer her up.
"That's great." She opened her mouth, intent on spilling what happened between Danny and her mother, but Tucker had already yanked open the door to his class and walked through.
.
.
Sam was halfway to the cafeteria with her bag lunch in hand, when she heard the voices arguing. She paused. The hallway was devoid of students. The muffled voices rose up again, coming from the door to her left.
Cautiously, she snuck over and peered through the glass window. It was the band room. Rows of metal stands and plastic chairs lined the carpeting. In the space where the conductor stood was Valerie, without costume, arguing red-faced with a tall curvy girl in a witch outfit. The girl had her back to her, but Sam knew by the perfect hair and figure that it was Paulina.
"Give it back," Valerie spat. She lunged for Paulina, reaching her hands out for something, but Paulina did a hop-skip backwards, narrowly avoiding her. The maneuver made Paulina's pointed hat droop.
"What's in here that's so important to you?" Paulina provoked. She held up Valerie's backpack and flicked the zipper cattishly. Sam didn't have to see her face to know that Paulina was smirking.
"Give it back," Valerie repeated, angrier this time, voice wavering like she was three seconds away from ruining Paulina.
Sam's went for the door handle— she stopped herself. This is what had gotten her in trouble at her last school. Did she really want to see that look of disappointment on her parent's faces? That expression her mother had worn— the sad-lost one that quietly said, 'I don't know what to do with you anymore. I don't even know you.'— Sam had told herself a million times that look hadn't mattered to her. Never changed the fact that it did.
In the band room, Valerie let out a frustrated growl and lunged again, this time grabbing hair.
Paulina shrieked, her hat pitching off her head. She flailed, but kept her grip on the backpack, holding it backwards away from Valerie's clawing fingers.
A large brutish shape stepped forward: Baxter. He grabbed the hand entangled in Paulina's hair and twisted it, making Valerie cry out and let go.
Valerie stumbled back, tucking her arm into her chest.
"Crazy bitch!" Paulina hissed unzipping the backpack.
Sam scowled, unable to see what was inside the bag from her angle outside the door.
"Don't try that again, Gray. Or else," Dash ordered. He took a menacing step forward, muscles bulging in full male bravado.
Valerie ignored Dash, her gaze stuck on the backpack, lip twitching, eyes wild. Sam could tell she was scared and a little desperate.
That's it. Sam couldn't bear to sit by any longer. Valerie and her had their own issues, and what Valerie had done was by no means forgiven, but the way Paulina was mocking her was wrong. Even though Sam was certain that Valerie hated anyone taking pity on her, the fact of the matter was this kind of bullying was cruelty. Besides, the sight of Baxter laying a hand on anyone was enough to make Sam's blood boil. She stepped into the room, letting the door close loudly behind her. "Why don't you give Valerie her backpack back?"
Paulina held a dirty toy rocket in one hand, the backpack in the other. Her smile curled predatorily. "Do you know what this is, Goth Girl?" She waved the rocket.
Sam's eyes flicked from the rocket to Valerie, who had gone deathly pale. "A toy?" Wasn't Valerie supposed to be the deranged person here? Why was Paulina giving her that look?
Paulina stared at her, then released a single breathless 'ha!'. "It's a relic," she said emphatically, twisting the rocket around in the light.
With more attention, Sam appraised it again. It was a small metal cylinder with three wings attached near the base, it's nose curved into a point. A piece of tape on it was adhered on the side with an address scribbled in Sharpie, but beyond 'IF FOUND', the letters were unreadable from a distance. It didn't look like much… no glowing, no humming, nothing remotely magical.
"It's mine," Valerie cut.
Paulina ignored her. She waggled the backpack at Sam. "There are others in here. Valerie has been hoarding them. Been toting them around this whole time to keep the ghosties away." Paulina shot Valerie a sideways glare. "Rude, much? Friends are supposed to share."
"We stopped being friends years ago," Valerie retorted.
Paulina held the rocket higher. "I think you and I both know who this really belongs to."
Flinching, Valerie lurched for Paulina like a cornered animal.
Dash grabbed Valerie by the shoulder and flung her backwards into a music stand. As her shoulder clipped it, the legs flipped out, tangling her feet, making her fall. With a resounding CLANG, the stand toppled to the floor.
Dash loomed over Valerie.
No. Sam saw red and moved. In three strides she was on Dash's back, arms wrapped around his neck and hanging behind him. She forced him to stumble a few steps away from Valerie.
"Guh—" he muttered stupidly. "Get off!"
Sam realized belatedly how tiny she was in comparison to Dash and that attacking him had been a bad idea. His muscles shifted underneath her grip. Her eyes widened as he whipped around, attempting to shake her off like a dog shook off water.
Blindly, Dash threw a punch backwards that connected with the side of her head.
Her ear popped and her head exploded in pain. With a cry, she let go and tumbled into a plastic chair, toppling it over and sprawling to the floor.
Stars danced in front of her eyes. She shook her head, trying to clear it. Preparing to launch herself back up and defend herself, Sam grunted and slammed her hand to the ground. Quick, before Dash could get on top of her—she paused at the sight before her.
Valerie was up again, her body in between Sam and Dash, looking murderous. She planted her feet and swung her arm out fast as a cobra strike.
There was a loud crunch, followed by a howl, ending with a voice yelling incredulously, "Fight Club! What is going on here?!"
Dash crumpled onto the ground, clutching at his nose. Blood seeped between his fingers.
Valerie blinked, her fists still raised. Blood smeared across her right knuckles.
Mr. Lancer glowered at the three of them from the door and flipped the lightswitch. With a low hum the fluorescents popped on and Sam felt exposed and immature.
"Lancer, sir— she hit me!" Dash whined. "You saw it!"
"I saw enough," Lancer stated gravely. "You three, principal's office." Lancer paused, appraising Baxter's bloody face. "Actually, Baxter, head to the nurse. You two, follow me."
Where was Paulina? Sam looked around for the girl, but she was missing. Missing just like Valerie's backpack full of relics.
.
.
"I didn't need your help," Valerie harped underneath her breath. The girl slumped in her chair, her knee bobbing up and down nervously, arms crossed, dark glower about her face. "I had it handled. Why can't you stay away?"
Sam crossed her arms as well, situated across from Valerie in her own chair. There was about three feet of hallway separating them. She eyed Valerie and shrugged. "Believe it or not, getting involved in one of your fights wasn't on my to do list," she snarked. The last place Sam wanted to be was in a chair across from Valerie Gray, outside the principal's office, awaiting her punishment.
Valerie's knee stopped bouncing for a second. Her eyes narrowed. "Why did you, then?" she questioned.
Sam glanced down at her boots, then towards the door to the principal's office. She ground her teeth together and pulled her shoulders up to her ears, shrugging again. She couldn't very well say that defending people was knit into her DNA. Or that it had tipped her over the edge seeing Paulina and Dash torment Valerie like that. Instead she said, "I abhor Dash Baxter." Sam glanced over and caught Valerie's eye.
Valerie's stoic face broke into a sly grin and she snorted, nodding appreciatively. "I feel that."
Sam sighed and pressed her head to the wall. "So, is it true? What Paulina said? About you hoarding relics?"
Valerie tensed. She blinked, as if remembering she was without her backpack, then her face crumbled. All that strength and tenacity faded away, leaving behind the broken Valerie that skulked around hallways. "I need that backpack," she said, more to herself. "They'll find me without it." Her hand clutched at the locket around her neck.
Sam fell silent, watching as Valerie tucked her knees closer to herself and pressed her face into them, cutting herself off. A thread of hate pulsed through her at the thought that Paulina had stolen the one thing that kept Valerie's terror at bay.
Sam frowned. Why would Paulina steal the backpack in the first place? Paulina loved ghosts. Her personal vendetta centered around finding one, so why would she be after relics?
"Manson?"
Sam was yanked from her thoughts. She peered up at Principal Ishiyama, a small plump Japanese woman with a severe bun, who was looking at her in a guarded way that made it impossible to know if she was mad. "Follow me," she clipped.
.
.
Her father sent a stern look her way via the rearview mirror. "You're lucky you only got detention," he muttered. "I know kids that've gotten suspended for less. What happened?"
Sam ducked her gaze, knowing full well she deserved this lecture. "Dash attacked Valerie, another girl at school."
Her father's gaze darkened, lingering on her reddened cheek. His grip strained against the steering wheel. "I should have a word with this Dash kid," he growled protectively.
"Baxter is a complete asshat," she muttered. "Having words with him won't change that. If anything it'll make it worse."
"Language, young lady."
Sam rolled her eyes.
Her father rolled his right back and Sam couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous it looked. It hurt to smile or open her mouth too wide. Her head pounded from Dash's punch; her cheek sore and swollen. It would probably turn into a fat bruise by tomorrow morning.
"This isn't funny, Samantha," he scolded, although Sam could tell he was struggling not to smile. "Someone broke that boy's nose. "
Sam gazed out the window distractedly. She plopped her chin in her palm. While Sam had scraped by with detention, Valerie and Dash had both gotten two day suspensions.
Her father glanced up at her. "No more fights," he ordered, "and you're grounded."
"I'm already grounded," Sam stated blithely.
"Yeah? Well, then I'll just have to…" Jeremy rapped his fingers along the steering wheel, then slumped. Sam guessed he had come to the conclusion that none of their punishments worked. "Look," he said, voice soft. "Your mother is going through a rough patch. We all are. I'd really appreciate it if you'd at least try to avoid fights? At least pretend to follow curfew?"
Sam ran her tongue along the back of her teeth. She sighed, "Alright."
Her phone buzzed.
Sam dug around in the front of her backpack. She didn't have many friends that she texted besides Tucker. Maybe he noticed her absence after third period or heard rumors of the fight.
Valerie Gray wants to be your friend.
Sam stared down at the line of text hard enough that the letters blurred together. Valerie, the girl that had threatened her, was friending her? In a daze, Sam unlocked her phone and accepted the request. Immediately a new message popped up.
V: I couldn't find your phone number. I know what Paulina is going to do with the relics.
Sam blinked. Slowly, deliberately, feeling like this whole exchange was happening in one of her kaleidoscopic dreams, she typed, 'What?'
V: She's going to burn them at her Halloween party.
Another message slotted in underneath the last.
V: She wants to get rid of anything that will stop the ghosts. We can't let her do that.
Sam scowled. We? We? Since when were they a team?
Valerie must have read her mind.
V: I mean YOU can't let her do that.
S: Why me?
V: You're invited to the party.
Sam leaned back in her seat in realization. Valerie wanted her to sneak into the party and… what? Stop Paulina from performing some kind of weird half-assed summoning ritual? Or, avoiding that, go the party, find the backpack full of relics, and somehow smuggle it out without getting caught? Sam thought of what would happen should Paulina or one of the A-List catch her. She pulled at her seatbelt, feeling claustrophobic.
"Who are you texting?" her father asked, genuinely curious. It wasn't often that Sam held a conversation on the phone.
"Tucker," Sam deflected. She crafted another message.
S: Why should I help you?
Pause. A lot of typing.
V: Because 1. Between the two of us, you're the one that needs those relics most.
V: 2. The A-List likes you.
V: 3. You have the guts to pull it off. And
V: 4. It's your fault the ghosts are back at it again in the first place.
Sam thought she made some good points. Especially now that Danny and her were on shaky ground, seeing as he had been shielding her from the brunt of the ghosts antics, getting her hands on those relics sounded like a great plan. She didn't know if he was protecting her anymore.
S: Fine. I'll help you get your relics back. Does this make us frenemies?
Three little dots bounced as Valerie typed out her response. They disappeared and reappeared like Valerie was trying to figure out what to say. Then, with a whoooosh, her message delivered.
Yes.