Hey Guys! Sorry I haven't been writing and all. I guess you could say I've been lazy and lounging about in my spare time as I have now been hit with my second last year of High School. Which is not the best year of my life as I have started it very poorly getting into a fight and getting a suspension for physical contact as I will now be posting stories up earlier than expected.

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Chapter Ten: Shaking things up a bit

Yawning.

That was all i seemed to do about every...say...15-16 minutes as I sat into detention. Turns out coach didn't believe my jist about 'female issues' and being with my mom as I felt sick enough to stay at my own house.

Because...

Tunney influenced her little blonde bitch to rat me out to the coach.

How do I know this? Simple.

The poor girl can't think for herself because anyone hanging out with Tunney would not need a brain as she would have done all the thinking for Sarah herself and perhaps...Perry.

Coach called my mom and she told him she was out on business and the maid who picked up the home phone had told him that i was not in the manor.

Which led the not so bright coach to his final conclusion.

Drum Roll please...

I lied

*Gasps in mock shock*

Yep, and clearly not hard enough as I did not put enough emotion into my lying.

Well there goes my hopes of being an actress.

I rolled my shoulders before opening my mouth to yaw-

"Williams! You keep that shit up and I'll string your ass in that old Putnam Barn" Mrs Donnelly hissed eyes ablaze as she looked up from her job of marking test papers for seemed the millionth time in only an hour.

I smiled innocently. "Sorry?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head thin lipped with a clench fist occupied with the pen.

You see...Mrs Donnelly was one of the greatest and most respected teachers to grace the halls of Ipswich very own finest. Due to two most vital things that would help you survive longer in the animal kingdom.

She was:

Didn't take shit from anyone.

Had a high self esteem

And Lucky last

That bitch had Balls.

Oh and

She actually took bribes from yours truly.

"Mrs Donnelly?" I asked in the most innocently voice i could muster.

"You got your periods again, Ms Williams?" she questioned sarcastically eyes glued to the papers in front of her as she worked sharply and precisely. "Well, no-." I started

"Then unless you have something of importance to share other than the pathetic so called harsh realities of you miserable teenage life about your mother or father busting your balls...Might i suggest you kindly shut the fuck up?"

I swallowed. "I have a proposition for your majesty"

She dropped the pen eyes glued to the paper her thin lips stretching in to a smirk "Is that so?"

"I'm listening"

I cleared my throat. "You let me off of detention early, Mrs Donnelly and I'll pay you three times you earn in this shitty school"

She leaned back in her chair and looked at me with questioning eyes. "Cough it up now and quietly and we'll call it even."

I rolled my eyes. "You take check, Donnelly?"

She smirked.

"You wanted to talk so talk" I spoke harshly into the phone as I walked into the unoccupied halls of Spencer and into my car.

It was thanksgiving.

No, one not even the parent hating kids or emo wrist slashers stayed away from home because they knew just as well as I had that would one of the only few remaining memories of the good times and the bad times you could either use as blackmail or treasure in your youth.

"Chase...When was he born?" Caleb questioned quietly

I raised my eyebrow lazily as I tucked the phone under my neck on top of my right shoulder burying my bag for my keys.

"Uhh...Is this some sort of unfulfilled stalking gay fantasy of yours Danvers?" I asked cheekily finding humour in his strange request.

He growled in frustration.

Yes, growled.

"This is NO FUCKEN TIME FOR GAMES,WILLIAMS!" He roared

I flinched at his tone thankful he couldn't see me. I paused my hand to twist the inserted key taking a silent breather.

When he didn't speak I twisted the key and opened the door.

"July 14th 19-." I dragged on pausing to remember as I answered the unanswered question before

"1988"

"Exactly" he said simply.

I frowned getting into the warmth of my slightly chilly car. "Then what the fuck is your problem! If you're not going to get to the fucking poin-." I began yelling

"My POINT, Williams. If you would learn to just hear me out, is that he's old and not just any fucking old I mean 19 now, right?"

"Right." I repeated

"Your point?"

"Did he tell you about his parents?"

"That's personal and none whatsoever any of your business. Back off, Danvers"

"Damn it, Claire." He began

I sighed "He was adopted. Adoptive parents were distant but kind enough to leave it to their sole adoptive heir. Anything anymore personal you want to delve into, Danvers?"

"Did he tell you they died in a car crash?"

"Yes"

"Did he tell you they died on his eighteenth birthday?"

"Uh, no" I answered shocked

"Danvers, you have less than two minutes to spit what you have to say out or I swear I'm calling the cops on you psychotic ass" I spat disgusted at how or why he got this information

"It's him, Claire. He's the fifth son. The son of the Putnam line. The oldest and the one who killed that kid at the dells, the one who has been using to send darkling's. He used his powers against me that day at Swim Practice. I don't what for though whether to spite me or just to make sure I know I'm not the only son that can be deemed more powerful than the sons."

"I think you need to stop drinking your mother's whiskey." I snapped not everything revolved around him and those boys.

"Think Claire. Think. This all started the night during the dells. Chase shows up. Kid winds up dead. Darkling shows up and what do you know?" he questions in Sarcasm pausing before he continued more quietly.

"His line didn't end in the 17th Century Salem Witch Trials, Claire. On the trial of John Putnam... One of the people who brought charges against him was a widow named Goody Pope, who claimed that John Putnam came to her as an incubus in her dreams - after she was widowed. Her son Hagan Pope was born 10 months and 24 days after the death of her husband Jacob Pope, which means that Hagan Pope was actually the bastard son of John Putnam."

I twisted the keys into ignition warming the car up with the heater. "I think I've heard enough, Danvers. You really did manage to outdo yourself this time, huh?" Hanging up before he could finish.

I sniffled feeling droplets threatening to fall from my nose. "Shit. Damn cold night." I cursed looking in my bag for a tissue.

As I pressed the tissue away from the temporary drops I noticed that the liquid from my nose wast mucus but rather blood.

"Fuck"

A gust of wind blew the trees into a harsh willowy bend the leaves of the oak trees swished around like a graceful ballerina. "Stupid fucking weather. Stupid fucked town. Stupid dumb fuck boy" I hissed blaming Danvers for his weird hallucinations.

I looked to both sides noticing that no cars were here not even Mrs Donnelly. 'She must have left while Danvers took up precious minutes of my now wasting life'

I sniffled again dabbing and pressing for awhile making sure nothing was coming out before reversing out of the car. Looking at the side mirror I saw no one there before stopping and checking my reflection jumping when I saw Chase standing there with an intense look.

"Shit!" I whispered yelled as quietly as I could.

Taking a deep breath. I stopped the car and pulled out the keys getting out of my angled reversed car.

The thin cardigan of my own stupid choosing didn't even protect me as well as it had should have this proven as I shivered my way towards the lone standing boy.

"Chase?"

He looked at me eyes glued as he watched me make my way to him around the car.