"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."

-Maya Angelou

Eight

Will sat outside the school cafeteria the next afternoon and thought about the encounter he had the night before. Ironically for someone who valued his privacy so much, he found that being outside amongst a crowd helped him clear his head. He found that being locked away in his room was counterproductive, as when he had a problem, he would just wind up stewing in his own thoughts and going around in circles. The fresh air helped him, even if it was a cloudy and chilly day. He even had a sandwich and a book with him so people wouldn't just wonder why he was sitting in silence or staring off into the distance.

The meeting with Horace had not gone as planned. Truthfully, Will didn't know what to expect. Every other meeting went down the same way, as if they were reading their lines from a script. Will handed over some cash and Horace gave him enough Pure to last for two weeks. Hell, it was mostly gone after just one week, and Will got to keep most of the profits for himself. It was a relationship that Will was wise not to question and it was not too surprising. As he learned from back home that money was materialistic, therefore not of the utmost importance, and Horace acted like a good believer.

Still, he had concerns that Horace seemed to not only know about the deaths around the college, but acted like it was no big deal. There were many rules that he grew up with and were to be strictly followed, but one of the cardinal rules was to not draw attention to yourself or do anything that would draw attention to the Order. Will did not kill Nicole or Andrew, but their deaths brought about unwanted attention. Clearview University put a nine o'clock curfew on the students and faculty around campus, by suggestion of the Willamette police department. Something like that was almost impossible to enforce, but the fact that it was in place made people wary, and talk as if there was some maniacal killer that roamed the campus at night. Andrew was most likely killed, but he was not anywhere near campus.

Worse, the curfew made life a little harder for Will. He was more of a night person, although it hardly mattered because he rarely slept more than five hours a day. Most of the business that he conducted took place at night though, for obvious reasons, but now there was a chance that he would be questioned about his activities if he crossed paths with any officers on patrol. Will would need to contact both Narciso and Jeff to remind them about being careful, and maybe laying low for the next few days. The money they made was good, so it was easier said than done.

Will took his phone out and opened his contact list, scrolling down to Jeff's name. Narciso had way more street smarts, and realistically Will probably didn't have to worry about him making waves. Jeff, however, was most likely using his own product, despite his denials.

"Hey. It's Will, right?"

The interruption caused Will to quickly pocket his phone, which probably made him look extremely secretive or guilty. It was accidental and he even caught himself a little off guard. He looked up and seemed to find the only place in the sky where the sun poked through the clouds, because he had to shield his eyes to see who was talking to him. From the voice, he knew it was a girl, and she looked somewhat familiar but couldn't place her.

"Yeah, what's up?" Will asked, deciding to play along.

The girl chuckled and crossed her arms over her chest. "I guess I didn't make enough of an impression the other night. Then again, you probably remember my friend more than me, although not for the best of reasons."

Will's best guess when she said the other night was the most recent party. Nobody really stood out, at least not anyone that he didn't know, except for maybe the girl that was vomiting in their backyard. The friend, he suddenly thought to himself. Their meeting had been brief but he remembered glasses and blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail. Today her hair hung down shoulder-length and framed her face, which he noticed was quite beautiful. She also wasn't wearing glasses today. What the hell was her name, he thought to himself.

"The party," Will started, closing the book that had been in front of him and moving it to the side, "right, you were with the girl who drank too much. I'm sorry, but there a lot of people there and I'm horrible with names…"

"It's okay," the girl responded, making a horizontal slashing motion with her hand to almost literally cut him off, "it was your house, right? I'm sure you met lots of girls. Dawn, nice to meet you."

He couldn't help himself but to smirk at the formality with which she spoke, and the fact that she extended her hand. Will extended his own to meet hers and give her a light shake, which was met with a firm one in response.

"Nice to meet you, Dawn." Will replied while letting go and retracting his hand. He made a motion for her to sit, even though he wasn't sure he wanted company right now. Still, she was very pretty, and one of the benefits of him being at Clearview was being able to meet, and hopefully later screw, his fair share of co-eds.

As Dawn sat down across from him, a thought crossed Will's mind. "We haven't had a class together before, have we?"

"No, I don't think so." Dawn responded as she furrowed her brow.

"I didn't think so either," Will replied, shifting in his seat and folding his hands on the table between them, "but you seem to know a lot about me. Should I be concerned about having another stalker?"

"Another?" Dawn asked with a little bit of surprise. "Nothing like that, I swear. What'd she do? Or was it a he?"

"It was a she," Will stated, "and maybe I'll tell you about it sometime. So, Dawn, did you need something from me?"

Dawn appeared temporarily taken aback by the question, but Will asked because he was suspicious. People rarely just came up to him like this, and he remembered that his teacher just a few days ago, randomly asked him for Pure. He could count on one hand all the people that knew about him around town, and he didn't want that number to increase.

"Need?" Dawn asked, while leaning forward and canted her head the slightest bit to the right. "What makes you think I need something? My friend Taylor, the one who got sick, she got invited another friend who knows one of your roommates. Kent, I think."
"Curt." Will replied.

"Right, Curt," Dawn said with a nod, "although I've never met him. Honestly, we were at your house all of thirty minutes that night. She pre-gamed a little too much and well, you saw the result."
Dawn laughed a little bit, while Will offered her up a slight grin.

"She's good now though, right?" Will inquired. "No trips to the hospital to get her stomach pumped or anything like that?"
"Oh no," Dawn remarked, "no, I put a bottle of water and her little trash bin next to her bed after I got her back. She didn't even remember being at the party."

"Wasn't really too memorable," Will commented with a slight shrug, "nothing crazy happened, no fights, no noise complaints either. Those are my favorite kinds of parties, to be honest. And you never answered my original question as to how you knew who I was, or my name."

Will didn't want to drop that subject. He was taught to be naturally suspicious of people and their motives, and the recent events around campus and town didn't help matters. Dawn fidgeted a little bit in her seat, but kept a small smile the entire time. She playfully threw her hands up.

"Okay, you caught me, but I promise that it's nothing sinister." Dawn stated, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face. "I'm a journalism major and writer for the school's newspaper. I heard that Willamette police came by your house asking you questions relating to the deaths of Andrew Gill and Nicole Baldwin, and I wanted to get the story from a source."

"Get the story from a source," Will repeated aloud, "you're using the lingo, I'll give you credit for that."

Dawn chuckled at the statement, but Will stayed silent, because there had to be more of an answer. Why not Curt, since she had already kind of knew him, or at least knew him through a friend of a friend. Will's only vice around campus was women, so maybe she knew someone who he had been with. Even then, he chose to keep that as under wraps as possible. He didn't brag about his conquests like Teddy did, and with the girls he met, he feigned a little bit of inexperience and nervousness. Will basically tried to be as uninteresting as possible to public perception.

"I asked around about you and your housemates." Dawn added, snapping Will out of his inner thoughts. "Talk about a bunch of stereotypes. It's kind of funny when you think about it."

"Stereotypes?" Will asked.

"Well, yeah." Dawn replied, shifting in her seat and bringing her left foot up underneath her, which seemed very uncomfortable. "I mean, you have a jock, a brain, a womanizer and a partier. It's like an all-boys Breakfast Club or something."

Dawn laughed at her own joke, but the reference was lost on Will. He nodded slowly a few times to try and pretend like he understood what she was talking about, but it was clear she was on to him.

"Tell me you haven't seen the Breakfast Club?" Dawn asked incredulously. The real answer of course was no, because Will didn't really start watching movies until he got to college, which didn't leave a lot of time to catch up with the history of cinema. Dawn waved off the question before he could respond. "That's a whole different conversation. Anyway, I looked at all these guys, and then there's Will Carroll. You don't really fit into any category that I can see, which makes you the most interesting of the group, by far. Wouldn't you believe my luck, no later than twenty minutes after I figure this out, I find you here. Sounds like fate to me."

From what Will understood about that statement, his wanting to not stand out had an adverse effect with Dawn. The deaths of the two students were shining a light on him that he didn't want. Hopefully that had less to do with fate and more to do with the fact that they were two students who liked to party. A small part of Will wanted to figure out what happened to Nicole and Andrew as well, especially because Horace seemed unfazed by death surrounding Clearview.

"I'm not sure how to take your silence." Dawn said, waving a hand in front of Will's face while giving him a slight frown. "I hope I haven't overstepped any boundaries. I've been told that's a problem I have, I think it's just my nature. Makes sense that I would want to be a journalist, right?"

"You've got the personality for it," Will replied, giving her a small smile to put her feelings at ease, "but if all you want is a soundbite, that's cool. Just make me anonymous, okay? You'd be surprised how much money we make charging ten dollars per cup; don't want to lose out because people think we're talking to the press."

Will shot Dawn a wink and elicited another laugh, or rather a giggle. He knew that he wasn't that funny, but she did laugh quite a bit he noticed. At least it wasn't one of those annoying hoarse laughs or machine-gun style ones. He was under the impression that she was humoring him for the most part, therefore he could only extend a small bit of trust. This was a good opportunity, however, to exploit for his own purposes.

"I do have a condition for my interview." Will remarked.

"Shoot." Dawn replied with another winning smile.

"You have to show me a good time before you get my services," Will said, "maybe a movie first, that Breakfast Club if it's still in theaters, or something else. No horror movies though, I'm not a fan, and it doesn't seem appropriate. Afterwards, I'll buy you dinner and go back to your dorm, or apartment, or whatever and I'll give you what you want."

Dawn nodded her head throughout most of the statement. When Will stopped talking, she retrieved a notebook and pen from her bag, opening the book and ripping out a page.

"Usually the dinner comes first and then the movie, so you get points for flipping the script," Dawn commented as she wrote on the pad, "and unfortunately, we just missed the Breakfast Club's theatrical release so it'll have to be something else. It does seem like a lot for just a soundbite, but I trust my reporter instincts that this will be worth it. Here's my number."

Dawn stopped writing and presented the piece of paper to Will, who took it, folded it up and placed it in his pocket. Dawn looked at her phone and rose to her feet.

"I gotta split, but it was nice to officially meet you Will." She extended her hand once more and Will half-stood from his seat to shake her hand. Felt a little weird, so he stood up all the way as she walked around the table and started past him. "Don't forget to use that number, and the sooner the better."

"That won't be a problem." Will said as she passed him by. He thought for a few moments about what just happened and what he agreed to. On one hand, he got himself a date and something to do rather than be locked in his attic room. He would formulate in his head what to tell her and how much to reveal. Realistically, all she wanted to know was what he spoke about with the police, so it shouldn't be a problem. After all, she wasn't a real reporter, and he would be astonished if more than fifty people read the school's newspaper.

The clouds seemed to grow darker, which signaled Will to grab his book and start heading back to the house. He didn't have anything else to do today, but he wanted to get back and look over some of the stuff he had taken with him from back home. The more he thought about the way that Horace acted, the more he was convinced that there was something he wasn't being told. Even though he was not supposed to question his 'elders', they weren't the ones living in this town while people were dying, and at least one of them was murdered. It was too much of a coincidence for him to ignore.

"There you are!"

Will looked up to see his roommates Rory and Curt walking towards him. It was a pretty small campus, but he thought it was a little ridiculous that he should run into three people consecutively that were looking for him. The way that Rory walked towards him with his 'big boy face', as Will liked to call it to irritate him, meant that Rory was going to create a small scene. The look on Curt's face as they grew closer confirmed this. Poor Curt liked everyone to have a good time and get along. He couldn't handle confrontation or discord of any kind.

Rory stopped about a foot in front of Will, who greeted him with his best fake smile.

"Roomy!" Will exclaimed vibrantly, which caught Rory and Curt off guard. "What's up? I know, it was my turn to do the laundry, but honestly, you can't expect me to wash those drawers of yours. I mean, I've heard of athlete's foot, but athlete's taint?"

Rory balled up his fists, but Will knew that he was in no danger of being attacked. Will wouldn't fight back, not in this setting, and Rory could potentially lose his scholarship for anything construed as misconduct. He just had to settle for putting on a mean face while Curt covered his mouth so he didn't laugh from Will's comment. Maybe I am funny, Will thought to himself.

"Some junkie fuck came to our house looking for you." Rory stated, emphasizing the obscenity in his sentence. People passing by slowed their gait to listen in on the conversation, a point which Will took very seriously. He looked back at Rory and motioned in the direction of their house.

"Why don't we talk about it back home?" Will suggested.

"Why don't we talk about it right here?" Rory countered, pointing down at the ground between them. "Why do you have junkies coming to our house? Do you have any idea of what could happen to me if someone at the school sees me speaking with someone like that? I could lose everything!"

Will nodded and tried to pretend that Rory didn't spit a bit at his face. He did his best to control his temper, especially out in public, but Rory was pushing it. Although he may have been angrier with Jeff, the suspected junkie that Rory was talking about. Jeff knew better than to come around the house without texting first, especially in the middle of the afternoon. Just another problem to deal with, Will thought to himself. For now, he needed to diffuse the situation. He looked past Rory to Curt.

"You ever seen this guy before?" Will asked Curt. "One of our parties maybe?"
Curt shrugged his shoulders. "I don't remember half the people that show up to be honest. I guess it's possible."
Will nodded and looked back at Rory. "Okay, so there you have it. Might be someone that showed up and got hammered, thinking that they could score something harder after such a good night. We may not like each other too much, but when you have ever seen me even smoke a cigarette? That's not me, Rory."

People seemed to be moving along once they saw that a fight wasn't going to breakout, but Will's comments didn't seem to assuage any of Rory's suspicion. He did take a deep breath to calm down, as if he realized where he was and how this might look. Rory was as concerned about keeping up a good public appearance as much as Will was, although for entirely different reasons.

"Fine. Fine, Will, have it your way. Just a random who stopped by in the middle of the day, like he was your friend or something. You don't really have any friends, after all. But I know that you're hiding something; none of us keep our bedroom doors locked. One day you'll forget to lock it, or maybe the lock will just come off. Maybe I'll get a chance to see what you're keeping away from everyone. Maybe it has to do with why that guy came around."
Rory turned to walk away, and Curt followed, giving Will an apologetic look. Will was headed home anyways, so he caught up with them both, walking beside Rory.

"Stay out of my room, Rory," Will remarked softly, "or your soccer career won't end because of a lost scholarship. I'll make sure you walk with a limp for the rest of your life."