Chuck Versus the BOOllies
By Steampunk . Chuckster
Summary: When high school bullies single out Top Nerd in School Chuck Bartowski and New Girl Sarah Walker for their Halloween prank, it means the two end up trapped in the haunted, condemned mansion of a long-dead Hollywood star who fell from the heights of popularity to the depths of obscurity. AU. High school Charah.
A/N: It's a new dawn, it's a new day, and this website is allowing email notifications again. Let me tell you, I was shocked. Not trapped in a haunted mansion and hearing a door slam behind you shocked, but...still.
This is it! The last chapter of a Halloween fic posted the day before Thanksgiving. I would.
Enjoy!
It must've been only a handful of seconds—he didn't even really have time to taste, to learn, to figure out what to do next with his own mouth—but she pulled back suddenly, blue eyes wide, looking at him like he was the ghost.
She pulled her bottom lip back between her teeth and bit down, her eyes flicking to the side shyly, to his wrist which was right next to her ear with the way his fingers were tucking a few wisps of hair away from her forehead. She gasped suddenly, eyes going even wider. "Your watch!"
"M-My… What?" he breathed, not sure if there was any oxygen left in this awful house because he…couldn't really catch his breath.
"Your watch. C'mon. Let's go back to the library. It's safer there and we should be able to use that watch to… I don't know. Do something. It's a smartwatch, isn't it?" she was saying hurriedly as she pushed up from the window sill and made her way through the attic to the trapdoor.
She hoisted it open, crawling through it onto the staircase, and he was still too lost in what had just happened to wonder how that trapdoor had been closed when she got back to it because they'd left it open when they climbed up here…
She'd kissed him.
She'd kissed him.
And what was more, that was the first time he'd had his mouth on someone else's since Sasha Lawlor in fourth grade. And that one had been a dare from one of her friends. It had sucked. Her mouth had been too wet.
This had not sucked. Sarah's mouth was the perfect amount of…
"Chuck!"
…wetness.
"C'mon!" she barked, poking her head up from below and waving him after her. "Maybe we can get out of here after all!" Her excited face disappeared again and he slowly climbed to his feet, rushing after her.
Maybe they could use his smartwatch, even without his phone being in range. He could find a way. After all, he wanted to live.
And he found, after the last few minutes, his will to live had increased tenfold.
/\^•.•^/\
"Scalpel...?"
She giggled, rolling her eyes at the way he held his hand out towards her. She shoved at it, shaking her head, hugging herself as she watched him kneel in the square of moonlight that came in from one of the front windows in the foyer, using it to try to see what he was doing as best as he could.
He was messing with something on his watch, she didn't know what.
But he seemed to know what he was doing. And now he was grinning toothily up at her, just momentary, as if he was extremely pleased with himself for getting her to giggle.
Doofus.
Doofus whom she'd just kissed.
Sarah looked away from him, all the way away from him so that he wouldn't see her embarrassing blush. Only that hadn't happened before. Ever.
And she'd been the one to initiate it.
Had Wilma Ricketts jumped into her body and done it?
Sarah bit her lip and beamed as she continued to look away from Chuck, his quiet humming as he finagled with a wire he took from his pocket protector—his pocket protector for shit's sake. Wilma Ricketts was long dead and her ghost wasn't in this house and she hadn't done a thing.
That was all Sarah.
She'd kissed him because she'd wanted to kiss him. And he'd kissed her back until she freaked out and pulled out of it.
It had been really nice. Better than that, she'd liked it quite a lot. Was it better to not know what it felt like to kiss somebody for seventeen years, to not have that weird awkward first kiss in elementary school or middle school that sucked a lot, only for the first one to actually feel really good? Should she have gotten the bad ones out of the way first?
Would the rest of her kisses be downhill from this point on?
She felt so childish thinking like that. She was kind of floating, though. As much as she could float being trapped in a terrifying house that kept making freaky sounds.
Although, it had been an hour or longer since they'd heard anything else. Save for the usual old broken down house type sounds, chilling as those were in and of themselves.
"Okay, I think I can… Shit. No. Maybe not."
Sarah smoothed the idiotic grin off of her mouth and turned back to him. "What? Did you get it?"
"No." His shoulders slumped and he let out a disappointed murmur, pushing a hand through his hair. "But I'm gonna keep trying. Maybe something in the library can help. I need something longer than this wire." He lifted his watch and the things he'd attached to it very carefully, cradling it all in the jacket he'd shirked to give himself a little workstation.
Sarah watched him go, then climbed up to her feet and slowly ambled after him into the library. "The sun will be up in an hour or two, maybe a little longer. We can find a window the sun shines into and use a mirror or something to signal someone down below who might see it."
He chuckled. "Not a bad idea. Dunno if anyone would give enough of a shit about some flashing light in a haunted cursed mansion's window to come up and rescue us." He curled his lip cutely. "Or they'd run in the other direction thinking it's a demonic spirit trying to lure them in so that it can overtake their body and wreak havoc in our world."
"You know what? I'm kind of enjoying these fanciful imaginings of yours now that I'm this sleep deprived," she heard herself flirting as she leaned her hip against the desk he set his attempted communication device down on.
Chuck came around to her side and mimicked her position against the desk, facing her. "Oh yeah? How do you feel about Poltergeist-status bodies in the basement coming up here and pulling us into an alternate timeline where the Axis powers won World War II as vengeance for what our ancestors did to them?"
She blinked, trying to have that all settle in her brain.
"Was that too much? Did I go too far?"
"It was…a lot."
And she found she was starting to really like him…a lot.
Now that there was space between now and the last time she'd heard frightening sounds stalking them around the house, something he'd said hours earlier when they were in that hallway upstairs struck her right in the chest.
I'm sorry, I swear to God this isn't some weird, like, attempt to get a pretty girl to touch me or anything, but I really need you to hold my hand…
Sarah turned to look up at him, a smile slowly growing on her lips. How had she been so distracted as to miss it then, when he first said it? Granted, she was scared out of her mind, moving down a pitch black hallway flanked by doors behind which…shit, she had no idea what hid behind the doors.
"You called me pretty," she mumbled. He spun to look at her with his soft brown eyes, a little wider than usual. "Earlier," she added. "In the hallway. When you wanted to hold my hand."
"Oh. I-I did? I guess I…might've. Oh, right. Because—Well—See, it wasn't because I was trying to compliment you."
"Oh?" she asked, highly amused.
"N-No. Not that I wouldn't compliment…you." He cursed under his breath. "I was trying to let you know that I wasn't, like…hitting on you. I was just losing it, I was so scared, and holding your hand—I thought holding your hand would help—help me to not freak out."
"I see," she said, grinning at him now. "Well, thanks for the compliment even though you weren't trying to compliment me. Nobody's ever used that word about me before, so I appreciate it."
He gave her a sincerely doubtful look that made warmth spill through her. "Sounds fake."
She pushed away from the desk and walked over to plop onto the dusty rug in the middle of the library, where they'd sat hours earlier. She pushed some hair that escaped her braid out of her face, shyly tucking it behind her ear. "It isn't. As you can see," she said, gesturing at their situation, "I'm not exactly well-liked."
"Fuck everybody," he said easily, and he strolled over to plop onto the rug next to her, folding his left leg that was furthest from her and propping the inside of his left arm on his knee, leaning in closer to her. "They're wrong. And dumb."
The giggle that came out of her sounded giddy, and frankly, sleep-deprived. "Okay, I'm tired."
"If you want, you can lie down and get a few winks. I'll keep working on that smartphone. I think I know how to get out a message, it just—I need to find enough junk in here to make it work."
She snorted. "I think Wilma collected enough junk for ya."
He raised his voice and spoke over his shoulder. "She didn't mean that, Wilma. You collected very beautiful things that I'm sure you thought you needed very badly at the time."
That made her laugh.
"We really don't want to say things to piss her off," he whispered, and he even added a wink, which made her purse her lips and duck her head, glancing off to the side, feeling the stupid blush on her face again.
"No, we don't," she said quietly.
He smiled at her, his mouth a little crooked. It was kind of adorable. "So how 'bout it? Wanna nap? I've got your back. I won't let any ghosties come for ya."
Sarah huffed in amusement. "That's sweet but I shouldn't. I feel like it'll just make me feel worse. And I'd also feel guilty, sleeping like a baby on this century-old dusty-ass rug while you're toiling away trying to get us out of this death trap." She make a clicking noise with her teeth. "I'll get my beauty rest later. I'm gonna have to make do with the shit I'm sure is going on here." She gestured to her hair, her face, and the rest of her afterwards, all the way down to her scuffed used sneakers she'd bought about twelve hours earlier.
Chuck just watched her quietly for a few long moments. And then he shook his head. "You don't need beauty rest."
"Trust me, I do."
"Nah. Prettiest alien I've ever seen, and I've seen some preeeetty pretty aliens in my time."
She laughed, blushing again. "Whatever." The air that had felt so cold in here just a few minutes earlier was suddenly nice and warm, and dare she think it, charged with something. It made her bolder, confident. "You're just saying this shit."
"No, I'm not!"
She built off of her own confidence. "I don't know if you really mean all that about me being the prettiest alien, or if you're just trying to get another kiss."
His smile showed his teeth, all lopsided and charming, as he leaned back on his palms, his shoulders all bunched up by his ears. He looked a little surprised at first and she nearly backtracked, but then he got all cozy-looking, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight still coming in from the window. "Can I kiss you if I say it's both?"
She made a thoughtful face, her heart racing—in a good way this time. "I think so."
"You think so?"
"Mhm. I know for a fact this alien looks like a mess and like she hasn't slept all night, so I'm not sure I believe you."
He narrowed his eyes. "I think that's fair, but…" He stopped then, puffing his cheeks out and letting out a quiet, "Hmm." He pinched his chin cartoonishly, and then he reached up to straighten one of her silver pipe cleaner antennas. "There. That's better. Now you're the prettiest alie—nnnfff."
Sarah couldn't resist anymore. She let every part of her that wasn't her brain take over and she lunged across the space between them, cupping the back of his head, and kissing him. It was more sort of…smashing her mouth onto his and hoping it was as good for him as it was for her.
His hands moved up to oh so tenderly cradle her jaw and he leaned into her, his lips moving against hers.
It felt really good and she felt a well of excitement not just open up inside of her, but it seemed to rush through every part of her, making her fingers and toes tingle, her ears ringing and head buzzing.
Sarah slung her other arm around his shoulders and decided swimmer shoulders were overrated. She loved how easily she could pull Chuck Bartowski closer to her.
And she loved that he picked up on her cues, letting out a delicious little hum as he dropped one hand from her face to wrap his arm around her lower back and tug her so that her chest was pressed flush against his.
She had to sort of shift her knee over and plant it against whatever horizontal surface she could find to keep from flopping onto her face. But said horizontal surface ended up being Chuck's thigh.
"Hnmmfff!" he grunted in pain when her knee dug into his thigh muscle.
Sarah gasped, mortified as she broke the kiss, shifting her knee to the rug instead, straddling him as she held his shoulder in one hand, her other hand still stroking his impossibly soft, thick curls. "S-Sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean—"
"It's okay I'm fine!" he rushed out, and then he pulled her in to keep kissing her. This time it was him. And she was starting to sort of get the hang of this, minus the whole stabbing his leg with her bony knee thing.
Sarah shifted again, straddling him properly, and she cupped his head in both hands, forcing him to tilt his head back to keep making out with her as she knelt over him.
She couldn't hold back the soft whimper as he squeezed her hip, moving his head just so to make the angle a little different, even more enjoyable.
Chuck broke the kiss just enough then to breathe, "Can I…?"
She didn't know what he was asking but she nodded eagerly.
Their lips crashed together again and she squeaked in surprise as he cradled her securely in his embrace and swung her slowly down to lie across the rug.
He was half on top of her then, letting out a quiet whimper of his own that made her feel like the rug had been lit on fire. She was really liking this a whole lot. Everything in her was singing.
And then his fingers slipped under the hem of her silvery green alien shirt, warm, clammy fingertips against her bare skin, stroking her waist, up, up even more, tracing her ribcage, lifting her shirt.
It became crystal clear to her in that moment that he was trying to pull the shirt up and off of her. And she froze, like a bucket of ice water was poured over her. She broke the kiss with a hum, uttering a panicked, "Um…"
Chuck rolled off of her, onto his side next to her, holding both of his hands up in the air, immediately taking them off of her, out from under her shirt. And then the sweetheart delicately put one hand back, but only to tug her shirt back down to cover her skin, and then back up it went, away from her.
"Sorry," he panted. "I didn't—Was that too much? Did I cross a line?" Worry was etched into his features.
Sarah could kick herself. Why was she such a freaking—God damn it, she didn't know what she was. She pressed her fingers to her forehead and sighed. "No, I'm sorry. You didn't cross any lines. I-I want—It just—I haven't done this."
He looked confused for a split second, but then understanding dawned in his face. She was ready for rejection, or for him to laugh in her face, or dismiss her worries, try to coax her back into things.
Instead, he furrowed his brow and nodded. "Well, there's also the fact that we're in a house that's chock-full of ghosts."
She let out a nervous giggle and nodded back. "That, too. Yeah."
Chuck pushed himself to sit up, offering his hand to help her up as well. And then he leaned in, catching her off-guard, pressing his soft lips to her cheek. She thought she might've seen a bit of a blush on his cheeks, some shyness in his face, as he rushed up to his feet. "I'm gonna see about this friggin' smartwatch. We gotta get the hell outta here."
Sarah stayed sitting on the floor, her legs splayed out akimbo in front of her, and she watched him spin to and fro, looking at things in the library, searching for something to help what he called "a makeshift telegraph machine" out of his smartwatch.
And then he muttered, "Because the sooner we get out there, the sooner we can do more o' that." Then he paused, looking down at her tentatively. "That is, if you…want."
She bit her lip, beaming at him around it. "Yeah." She nodded eagerly.
"So I didn't…totally blow it…"
"You didn't. Not at all."
"Okay." He breathed out a relieved sigh, his eyes all sweet and soft again as he grinned at her. "Cool."
"Cool." She rubbed her sweaty palms on her pants. "Are you gonna…fix that or…?"
"Shit! Yes. Yep. On it."
And he bent to his task.
/\^•.•^/\
Chuck Bartowski knew for a fact that he was a God damn sap. Because making out with a gorgeous girl on the rug of a haunted as all get-out mansion had really gotten his brain juices going.
He was firing on all cylinders.
Another hour had passed and it was nearing five in the morning. God, he was exhausted. So exhausted. But he knew exactly what he was doing now. Would it work? He wasn't sure, but if this didn't work, then it was simply impossible.
"Will you please be careful?" Sarah asked from below.
He was perched precariously with one foot on a bookshelf, a few books moved to the floor to make room for the toe of his sneaker, and his other foot was held aloft off to the side for balance. Or something.
And he was slinging a string, his actual antenna and not a pipe cleaner on the headband Sarah wore, over a hook that a picture frame had hung on before. Before he took it down to use the nail and hook for his rough attempt at a communication device.
Oh, he was being careful. Very careful.
He had every intention of asking this girl out on a date if they got out of this house before they starved to death, died of dehydration, or got murdered by ghosts who'd had enough of their guests.
"Got it!"
"Mmmwaaaaaauuuuggghhhhhhh mmmmmmmmmooooooooaaaaaauuggghhh!"
A cold chill rushed through him, his hands going slack, and he teetered backwards.
"Chuck!"
He managed to turn himself just enough to sort of catch his knees and hands on the back of the nearby plush settee, and it made falling onto the wooden floor a lot less damaging.
That said, he'd definitely have a bruise or five.
"Ow."
"Ohmigod!" Sarah was crouched over him, one hand on his chest, the other holding his head, concerned creasing her pretty face. "Are you okay?!"
"Uh…yeah," he gasped out, emitting a slight cough. Ouch.
"Did you hit your head?" she asked seriously, her fingers stroking the back of his head as if looking for injury.
"No. No, no. Head's fine."
"Neck? Spine?"
"Both are good."
She let out a relieved breath, helping him to sit up. "Thank God."
"You heard that, right?"
"Uh yeah I heard it. It was somewhere upstairs. I can't handle this anymore, okay? I don't care what that is. I don't wanna be in here with it anymore. It nearly made you break your neck. Please, is this smartwatch hack gonna work?" she asked in a rush.
"I'm trying it right now," he said, climbing up to his feet with her help. "Just so happens, I really don't wanna be in here with that thing either. So."
The thumping and creaking right above his head was literally making him feel like he might wet his pants. And then it halted just as fast.
He lowered his gaze from the ceiling to Sarah.
"Chuck?"
"Yep! I'm goin'!"
He scrambled for the smartwatch, tapping the screen to wake it up. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon…" he breathed. He pulled up his texts and scrolled to the one person he knew would be awake. Because it was her job to be awake in that moment.
In Ricketts Mansion. Bullies barricaded us in here. Been here all night. Stole our phones. GHOSTS GONNA KILL US. PLS COME GET US OUT.
Sarah was leaned in close over his shoulder. "Kind of dramatic at the end there."
"But potentially accurate. Did you hear that moaning shit? And the door slamming earlier on in the night? If it makes her get here faster, then yay."
"It's your text. Who you sending it to?"
"Ellie. She had an all-nighter shift at the clinic where she's volunteering. My sister's applying to med school."
"Brilliant. The person who's already awake."
"Exactly." He tapped his temple. "Okay, here goes." He hit send.
They waited…waited…waited some more… The wheel of doom spun and spun and spun. He appreciated how patient Sarah was, her chin propped against his shoulder, simply watching silently, not breathing some sort of negative It's hopeless type nonsense out into the cosmos.
He started to even lose hope a little bit after enough time passed. And then…
Deedle dee!
Sent
"H'oh…. Oh my God…"
"Does that say it sent?" she asked him, her tone making it clear she wasn't yet daring to hope.
"It sent. Yesyesyesyes! IT SENT!"
She let out a breathless laugh, stepping back from him just enough to cup her hands on either side of her face and let out an excited cute little squeal. "I can't believe you did that! Holy shit!"
"I know! I can't believe that worked! Oh man. Mr. Radebe is gonna flip out when I tell him that I did this. He's gonna be so stoked. He tells me I need to go into computer engineering and now I'm kinda like well okay maybe I should."
"Um, yes!" She looked so impressed and proud and he was filled with so much adrenaline, he could probably kick one of these entire walls down. But he'd be lying if he didn't admit he actually was genuinely kind of scared that he'd unleash a bunch of ghosts and that this house was some kind of lock on a portal that kept spirits at bay.
Yes, he knew he was ridiculous.
But then Sarah's arms were around his shoulders and she was hugging him tight. And strike that, he wasn't ridiculous at all. He was cool as shit.
They pulled back as his watch made a ding! sound. Leave it to Ellie with her bad timing. And then he inwardly shook himself because the timing really didn't matter when you've been trapped in a house full of ghosts for a whole damn night and your sister is responding to an SOS text sent from a communication transmission device with no signal or wifi.
"Is it your sister?!" Sarah asked as he sprang for it, snatching it up and looking.
Leaving clinic early be there in 20 WTF HAPPENED
He could cry he was so relieved. "She's gonna be here in twenty minutes," he breathed, letting out a bubbly chuckle. "We did it."
Sarah pumped her fists over her head with a, "YES!" and tilted her face back to laugh, arms still raised to the ceiling. "Whoever blessed this boy with tech genius, thank you!"
He cracked up. "Okay, genius is a little bit of an exaggeration. I wouldn't go that f—mmmffff."
Well, she did it again. She lunged, hands on the side of his face, lips pressed against his. But this time, she didn't so much mash her mouth against his like the last two times. And maybe they were both learning here.
He held her close, cradled in his arms, for once forcing himself not to overthink anything and just enjoy.
/\^•.•^/\
The sun was only just barely coming up, the sky outside lightening to a deep bluish purple with pinks nearer the horizon when the headlights beamed through the half-assed window boards.
It was closer to thirty minutes, but he didn't begrudge his sister the extra time. She knew where Ricketts mansion was, though, because she and a few friends had once come up here for some sort of dare. He remembered her telling him a few years ago… only none of them had gone inside. "We value our lives," she'd told him.
Well.
Heh.
"Is that her?" Sarah asked a bit groggily, lifting her head from where it had slumped against his shoulder as they took up a space on the library rug again, this time leaning against the back of an ornate red couch.
"Must be. C'mon…"
This time he climbed up first, reaching down to help her up. She groaned a little as she stood, and he so related. His bones were tired, let alone the rest of him. He was so glad it was Saturday because there was no way he'd last a whole day of school like this.
He tugged everything off of the smartwatch, slipped it back onto his wrist, and swung his jacket back on as he heard his sister's voice outside. "Chuck?! You in there?!"
"That's her," he chirped.
They hurried into the foyer as he yelled, "They wedged something against the door! Can you get it loose?"
"What the fuck!" she snapped. "These fuckin'…fuck…"
"That's definitely her," he chirped again.
They heard her grunting, a scratching sound. "It's fucking heavy!" she growled through the door.
But then he felt a hand twist in his jacket at her upper back. "…Chuck…?"
"Put your back into it, El!"
"Oh, shut up," his sister groused through the door, her voice strained.
"Chuck!" Sarah whispered hoarsely.
"What? What is it?" He turned to look at her. Her blue eyes were wide with terror, staring up at the second floor landing…staring at…something.
Oh no.
No, he didn't want to look.
He really didn't want to—God damn it. He winced, slowly turning to look up at where she was looking.
A bluish grey haze had flooded the landing, almost like a fog that was infused with bits of dim light.
"Mmmmmmmmmooooooaaauugghhhhh!"
It sounded like it was right in his ear this time. He felt a horrifying sensation inside of his gut. It didn't want them to go. It wanted them here. Fuck no. Oh fuck no.
Chuck spun, grabbing the door handle. "ELLIE!" he screeched. "Ellie, get the door! LET US OUT!"
Sarah was screaming too now, shoving at the door with her shoulder.
"MMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"Got it!" Ellie yelled. "Push!"
They both tumbled out onto the front porch and Chuck found his sister immediately, hugging her for dear life as he heard the door slam shut behind them.
"Fucking shutting THAT!" Sarah snapped.
He turned to watch as she shivered theatrically, getting her arms into it and everything.
"What the hell happened?!" Ellie asked, squeezing him tighter. "Were you actually stuck in there all night? Oh my God, you're like an icicle! C'mere to the car. We're going home. What the fuck?!"
She reached out towards Sarah. "I don't know you but you're coming, too. C'mon. Into the car with the semi-working heater, both of you."
"They drove up here. We didn't know. Well, at least, I-I didn't know this was the plan."
"I didn't, either," Sarah added.
"I thought it was just gonna be a fun thing, hanging out, driving around town, hitting up parties or something. But they came up here and—"
"If you say they dared you, I'm gonna be so annoyed," Ellie cut in, ushering them both to the car.
Chuck popped open the front passenger door and guided Sarah to it. She seemed like she was going to protest, but he knew for a fact the vent worked best on that side and he wasn't gonna stand for it when he was the one with the jacket.
So she listened to him and got in, letting him shut the door.
"It wasn't a dare. They-They forced us in there," he explained over the roof of the car. "But can we—Can we just go, please?"
He was positive he'd see that bluish ghost fog in his nightmares for the rest of his life, 'til the end of his days.
"Fine!" she snapped, swinging in behind the wheel as he dove into the backseat.
"Go go go go go!"
"Don't Getaway Driver at me, buster!" Ellie exclaimed over her shoulder, calmly backing the car up, then shifting it into drive again and curling the car in a loop to head back down the road to the actual street. "Okay? Better? We're going. Explain." Then she turned to look at Sarah and he saw something glint in her green eyes—at least the one he could see in profile. "And who are you?"
"I'm Sarah," his companion over the last however many hours responded, giving his sister a sheepish wave, more of a weak lift of her hand by her hip.
"Yeah, they planned to bring both of us up here to lock us in the Ricketts mansion. They stole our phones." Sarah gave him a bit of a look at that. He knew he was stretching the truth. He knew he wasn't telling Ellie just how easy they'd made it for the bullying assholes, but it was…complicated. And thankfully, Sarah didn't seem to want to correct him. "Then they wedged the doors shut."
"You couldn't break a window?" Ellie asked.
"The windows all have grilles and we couldn't get through them," Sarah explained. "They were sealed shut too."
"Okay, well that's absolutely freaky. Why'd she have her windows sealed? Ugh. That's not—Fuck them. Who are they? What are their names?" his sister demanded to know. "I'm going to murder them all in their sleep."
Sarah choked a little, sending his sister a wide-eyed look.
"Oh, by the way, Sarah. This is Ellie," he inserted helpfully.
Ellie thrusted her hand out with one of her super charming smiles, finally getting them onto a main street. "Hi, Sarah. Nice to meet you. Sorry it's in shitty circumstances."
"No, it-it's okay. Hi. Nice to meet you, too." Sarah took her hand.
"God, your hand is freezing. Get it up against that vent. The heat should be going, I never actually turned off the car. Warm yourself up. YOU BOTH COULD HAVE DIED IN THERE!" she burst out suddenly. "I'M CALLING THE COPS!"
"Yeah, not really the safest place to spend the night," Chuck said, clearing his throat. He and Sarah met gazes. She'd seen it, too. She'd heard all of it and she'd seen all of it. What did they even do with this information?
"The reason why we didn't go in when my friends and I went up there was because it looked like it was about to fall apart! You could've been crushed in there or gone through some floorboards!" She made an angry sound. "I'm seriously calling the cops. Give me their names."
/\^•.•^/\
"Rebecca Vasquez, Paul Lubbock, who was the girl in the sexy cat costume again?" Sarah asked Chuck over her shoulder, counting them off on her fingers. "Lana del Rey. Well, I called her Lana del Rey because that was her outfit. I forgot her actual name now after all that… Then there's fuckin' Virat…"
But Chuck put his hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. "We can't call the cops on 'em."
"Why not?!" she and Ellie both asked in the exact same tone. Sarah turned to look at his sister in surprise. Ellie looked back. There was an immediate warmth that passed between them.
She decided she liked her a lot.
"Paul Lubbock? As in LAPD Chief Lubbock's son?"
"Oh, come on," Ellie exclaimed. "You have to be joking. You got kidnapped and trapped in a condemned mansion from over one hundred years ago by the LAPD police chief's son? Only you, dear brother."
"Hey! I didn't ask for this! You know, El, you told me I need to spend time with people who aren't Morgan. That's what I was trying to do. I was tryin' ta branch out and those assholes locked me in a house full of ghosts!"
Sarah winced. "You too, huh? I really thought there was a chance I was finally being invited into a friend group. Joke was on me." She frowned, looking straight ahead, watching the sun slowly start to peek up from the buildings.
A hand landed on her shoulder and she turned to find Chuck had leaned forward and was watching her closely. "We both got fooled. But you have a friend group now." He winced as she felt nice things flood her midsection. "As much of a group as two nerdy guys can be."
"Well, if you add a third it's more of a group," she said.
"She's not wrong," Ellie chimed in, smiling.
Chuck grinned at her.
"By the way, what was with the ghosts are gonna kill us nonsense?" their savior asked in the warm silence. "You weren't freaking Sarah out with all of your Wilma Ricketts ghost story bullshit, were you, Chuck?" They were both guiltily quiet, but Sarah was mostly just trying to figure out what to say and how to say it. "Oh Goddd, Chuuuuuck!" she groaned.
"It isn't bullshit, though, Ellie! There are ghosts in there!" he argued.
Sarah sighed. "Listen, I don't believe in that kind of stuff, okay? I really don't. He started in on it and we heard weird stuff, I was perfectly content to think it was rats or stray cats or something. But…"
Chuck pointed at her. "See?! It isn't bullshit!"
"Oh, no." Ellie chuckled. "Look, this is extremely serious. What they did to you two is absolutely dangerous and disgusting and maybe I won't go to the cops, but we're getting those little fucks back for this."
"YES!" Sarah pumped her fists in front of her, making both of the Bartowskis laugh.
"But you guys aren't really gonna try to tell me that mansion's actually haunted, are you? It's a freaky place and Wilma Ricketts was a freaky lady, so I can see how you might think you saw stuff or that you heard stuff, but…come on. Ghosts? Really?"
"Explain the ghoulish moaning, then," Chuck challenged.
"Wind."
"It wasn't wind! Oh my God!" he whined. "Fine, doors slamming." He rushed on before she could blame it on wind again, which they all realized she would do. "In a closed-off hallway where there literally scientifically wouldn't be any wind!"
"Stray cat, broken spring on a hundred year old door…"
Sarah finally sighed. "I can't let Chuck go it alone on this. Like I said, I'm not…into that supernatural garbage. Ghosts are fun to tell stories about at a sleepover probably, or to scare a kid before bedtime on Halloween, but they aren't real. But it…" She huffed. "You're gonna judge me."
"Apparently she might," Chuck snarked from the backseat.
"No I am not!" Ellie snapped, sending her brother a dark look over her shoulder as she stopped at a light. She turned back to Sarah with a completely opposite look, warmth and reassurance and kindness spilling out of her. Uh oh. Was this whole family—small and non-traditional as it was—pulling her in? It felt like they were. Uh oh.
She cleared her throat. "We were walking down a pitch dark hallway, trying to see if there was a way out somewhere, a window that was already broken or wasn't sealed, whatever. I put my hand out like this, running my fingers along the wall so that I knew which direction I was going in, so I had a path…" She demonstrated, sticking out her hand with her fingers flexed towards Ellie. "And then it felt like my fingers sank into…I dunno, I thought maybe mold or something like…water damage. You know, where the wall gets squishy. But then this goo stuff kind of wrapped around my fingers. I freaked out…"
"She screamed bloody murder," Chuck muttered. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You did. I'm not judging you. I would've, too."
He…did sort of…let out a few scream-like sounds throughout the night. But it wouldn't help anyone to point that out, would it? So she kept it to herself.
"Well, nothing was on my hand when I looked at it. Chuck's watch had a flashlight function. We shined it on my fingers. There was nothing. It wasn't even wet or damp. And then we flashed it at the wall where I'd felt it… Nothing. Now, I don't know what that could've been, Ellie."
The brunette shivered as she drove. "Ew. A goo?"
"A goo. It felt like it was oozing onto my fingers. But nothing! There was nothing there."
"That's disgusting."
"Yeah, it was, actually."
"Then there was the fog," Chuck added.
"Fog?"
"There's a reason why I was screeching for you to hurry up and move that metal thing away from the door so that we could get out."
"Yeah, you were really howling, buddy. I thought you were being stabbed," she snorted from behind the wheel.
"I don't know what it could've been besides something…well…not alive…not…human." Sarah winced. "I know this sounds totally nuts, but…a sort of bluish grey fog was on the upstairs landing when we looked up. And the moaning came from it again. It felt…" She paused, swallowing hard.
"You felt it, too?" Chuck asked near her ear. He'd taken off his seatbelt and was leaning into the front part of the car. "Like something didn't want us to leave."
She gasped, sending him a wide-eyed look. Chills wracked through her. "Yes!"
"Okay, I'm getting a little bit creeped out."
"You are?" Chuck scoffed, turning to look at his sister. "Imagine what it was like for us. I'm gonna go see a shaman and get this bad spirit shit off'a me, just in case."
"We'll go together," she giggled, still chilled to the bone in spite of the heater vent being pointed right at her.
"Great. Maybe we can make a date out of it."
She felt his eyes on the side of her face as she smiled hard in spite of herself, clamping her bottom lip between her teeth, something in her chest outright sparkling as she peeked to the side and saw a massive knowing grin on Ellie Bartowski's pretty face.
She reached back with her right hand and pushed at her brother's face, mumbling, "Stinker."
And because she was equal parts relieved to be the hell out of that mansion and giddy about how hard this boy just hit on her, and in front of his apparently pleased sister to boot…Sarah shrugged one shoulder and chirped, "Maybe we can."
/\^•.•^/\
Chuck watched out of his window as Ellie pulled up to the curb outside of a small Cinderella style post-war house. It was one-story with a brown roof that needed a few shingles repaired, the paint needed a fresh coat of egg-shell yellow, but he liked it.
"This, um, this is it." Sarah cleared her throat. He wasn't sure if she was tugging at her braid because she was nervous, shy, or maybe embarrassed by her grandma's house, the house she lived in. He hoped it wasn't the last thing. He didn't want anyone to feel that way about where they lived on his account. "Thank you for saving us," she blurted then, turning to his sister, smiling tiredly but sincerely. "And for taking me home."
"I'd run through fire for this kid. That goes for his friends, too. C'mere."
Chuck watched as the two young women hugged tightly. Ellie rubbed Sarah's back, squeezed one more time, and they relinquished one another, smiling.
"It was nice to meet you, Sarah. Hopefully I…see you again soon?" Ellie swung a meaningful gaze over to him. Really? Had she no chill? None whatsoever? He clenched his jaw at her a little and curled his lips, widening his eyes.
"Yeah. I…I hope so, too," Sarah said, and this time he could see the shyness; it was practically radiating from her as she tugged on her braid again. Then she turned and eyed Chuck significantly. "Um…"
There was a lot to say. Only…Ellie was sitting right here, staring at them expectantly.
Anyway, she'd taught him to be a gentlemen.
So…
"Let me walk you," he offered.
"Oh. You don't have…"
"Please. I need to make sure you don't have spirits clinging to ya. Not trailing ghost dust after you as you go."
"They're ghosts, Chuck, not fairies," Ellie said flatly.
"You, stop it," he said, pointing at her.
Sarah giggled. "Okay, okay. I really don't want what happened last night following me around out here so…sure. You can walk me. Thanks."
Chuck grinned toothily at her, then rushed out of the car, grandly opening her door for her and stretching his hand towards her. He saw her send Ellie a bit of an eye roll and he wondered if they were already exchanging wordless inside jokes at his expense after only a twenty-five minute drive. But then she took his hand, smiling up at him as she let him help her to her feet. He reached around her to shut the door. "Got everything?"
"Yeah, I really didn't have anything that didn't fit in my pockets. Save for my cellphone." She curled her lip in fury. "If they did anything to my phone, I swear to God…"
"Mm. I can't afford a new phone. Not now and not anytime soon."
"Right? Your sister is on the right track," she said as they strolled up the brick path towards the tiny front porch that also needed a paint job. But what didn't need a paint job? Who didn't need a paint job? "We need to find a way to get them back."
"Yup. After we snag our phones back, of course. We get our phones, safe and sound…and then?" He growled, "It's clobberin' tiiiiiiime!" She blinked at him. "Fantastic Four? …No?" He sighed. "It's fine, you have much to learn, young padawan."
"What?"
"Nothing," he said with a chuckle. And then they took the steps up to her house and halted. "Can-Can I have your number?"
"Like…the cellphone I don't currently have 'cause a couple of asshole bullies stole it from me before locking me in a ghost-filled condemned mansion?" she asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
"Yeah. Like that one. For later. When we get our phones back."
"Optimistic, aren't you?"
"I was born this way," Chuck reasoned, shrugging as if to say What can ya do?
Sarah giggled and nodded. "Yeah. You got a pen in that magic pocket of yours?"
"I do!" he chirped, making her giggle harder. "I also think we should change the name pocket protector to 'magic pocket'. I love that." He handed over a pen as she took his hand in hers and turned it over so that his palm faced up.
Then she took the cap off of the pen with her teeth and scribbled her number onto his palm. He liked her penmanship. She put little lines through her sevens to differentiate from ones and it was cute.
Sarah let go of his hand, put the cap back onto the pen and offered it back to him, only for him to do exactly what she'd just done, but with his number on her palm.
"I can't call or text right now since, erm, the whole…phones being stolen thing. But can I pick you up later? Maybe tonight? For coffee or a movie or somethin'?"
She clamped her lips between her teeth, blushing as she tilted her head a bit. "Yes." Then she paused, narrowing her eyes dubiously. "Chuck, are you asking me out on a date?"
He bent his knees, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. "Yeeeeeah," he drawled. "Yeah, I am. Do you wanna go on a date with me tonight?"
"Yes," she said steadily, immediately, nodding eagerly.
Oh. Oh, shit. He felt a burst of good things and also a variety of different kinds of nervous. The super nervous nerves.
"Oh." He let out a breathy chuckle. "Great. That's great. Okay, well, uh…maybe six o'clock? That give you enough time to rest after the last…" He rolled his eyes. "Eight hours?"
Sarah nodded.
Then something occurred to him.
He turned back to see Ellie watching them closely, even leaned across the console, the freaking busybody. He sent a glare at her but she didn't budge. Brat.
"I just realized, I'm not sure, um…" He winced, turning back to face Sarah. "I don't know if I'll be able to get the car all to myself. I don't know if Ellie has work or a volunteer shift or-or a date of her own. I don't know. She's…busy. A lot."
"Oh."
"I should explain that. See, we share that car. The car you were just in. That's our only car. We got it off Craigslist for cheap. It—Sorry, that's-that's not important. So I need to check with her first to see if—Well, worst comes to worst, she can drive us to where we wanna go and drop us off." He winced even harder, embarrassed. "I know that's super lame. But just know I'll be here at six, even if I hafta take a bus, okay?"
"Chuck, it's fine," she said, reaching out to gently curl her fingers around his wrist. "I only have a car if my grandma lets me take it. And she only does that if she's gonna get something out of it. Like I'm getting her groceries or running another errand for her. Taking her rugs to the dry cleaners." She huffed, the hair framing her facing fluttering.
"I'll be here at six," he said, smiling. "Thanks for bein' so cool about the…car thing."
"Not a big deal." And then she moved in close, rising to her tiptoes, and she pressed a long kiss to his cheek, squeezing his fingers in hers. As she pulled back, he knew he had a dopey look on his face and he didn't care. "See you at six."
"Yeah," he breathed. "See you at…at six. Yeah." However, he did care how stupid he looked when he added, "G'night." He made a face when she laughed, backing towards her door as she fished a key out of her back pocket. "Oh. Not that. It's, like, dawn. Or whatever."
"Good enough, nerd." She stopped at the door, having unlocked it now. It was propped open a few inches but she paused and looked back at him. "Hey. I'm glad I wasn't alone last night but mostly I'm glad I was there with you."
Chuck blushed, more pleased than he was willing to let her see. At least not just yet. "Who else would be able to jimmy a cell signal from an out of range smartwatch and random wires, huh?"
"Yeah, that. Thanks for that. Probably saved our lives. But also just…you."
If he was capable of a response, he knew it'd have to wait, because she sent him a sparkling look and then stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.
He did his best not to float back down to the car, swinging into the passenger seat where she'd been sitting for the past twenty-five minutes.
"Okay TELL ME EVERYTHING!" Ellie half-yelled, making him jump. She pulled away from the curb. "I need to know ALL OF IT. RIGHT NOW."
"Well, the goo thing was really freaking scary, but the door slamming stuff? Ellie, I thought I was gonna wee all over the hundred year old floo—Oh, you don't mean the ghosties."
"Stupid. I'm talking about her."
"Oh, her."
"Oh, her," she mimicked, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Yes, her! Sarah! She is freaking adorable! And that cute little alien costume. I cannot. Who is she? Why haven't I heard of her before? I thought you told me everything!"
"I tell you most things!" he argued. "I didn't tell you about her because this is a very…very new thing. Like happened in one night new thing. We were both targeted, the huge nerd and the New Girl. They played a prank on us both even though we didn't really know each other. I mean, she's new new."
"Oh. Like transfer student."
"Like transfer student."
"Shit, poor her. That sucks. I can't imagine being a transfer student at Creekwood." She shivered demonstrably. "And as a senior? Ugh. I'm assuming she's a senior."
"Yeah, she is."
"Three months in, she gets kidnapped and forced to spend a night in the creepiest house in LA. How awful. I hate teenagers. They're the worst. So freaking mean to everybody."
"Hey." He gestured to himself in teasing offense.
She sent him a flat look. "Except for you. And apparently Sarah."
So she liked Sarah. Already. Interesting.
Then he realized what she left out. "And Morgan, don't forget Morgan."
"Nah. Not Morgan. He's terrible in a myriad of other ways."
Chuck laughed, shaking his head. And then his sister reached over suddenly and snatched his hand out of the air, yanking it closer to her and looking down at the number scrawled across his palm. Excitement lit her features. "Well, we don't have our cellphones. The assholes still have 'em. …Hopefully."
"Um, this isn't just a 'no cellphone' move. She gave you her number."
"Yeah. She did. Which reminds me, do you think I can use the car tonight?"
She shrugged. "I don't have anything goin' on, really. Should be fine."
"Yesssss!"
"Honestly, if you're taking the car somewhere, maybe that'll force me to take a soak in the tub and finally just let myself fuggin' relax for once. You kn—?" She froze then, turning to look at him with wide green eyes. "Chuck? What do you need the car for tonight? Is it…for…a date?"
"It miiiight beeeee."
Eleanor Faye Bartowski let out a howl that belonged in the Ricketts mansion, reaching over the ruffle his hair vigorously as he tried to fight her off, laughing riotously as he failed. "You rapscallion! You rascal! I'm so proud!"
/\^•.•^/\
MONDAY
There he was.
Sitting with a shorter guy with a full beard and mustache.
That must be the friend he referenced a bunch a few nights ago while they were trapped together in the most terrifying situation she'd ever been in. Well, maybe not considering she'd run from cops before, but… Well, it was a different kind of terror.
And now she stood here, peeking around a tall bush.
Watching.
Trying to drum up a bit of courage.
Because they'd gone out on Saturday night after a full day's rest, saw a movie, ate theater food, got coffee afterwards, and parked somewhere to make-out. And they made-out some more. With a side of more making out.
Until he finally took her home. And they made-out pressed close to the front door of her grandma's house so that Betty Burton couldn't see them if she looked out of the front room's windows.
But this was the moment of truth.
She'd heard horror stories of high school dating events. Not that other girls talked to her about their dating experiences. But she went unnoticed, ignored, and she blended into the scenery. Sitting down on a low wall to eat lunch meant hearing a lot of gossip because they simply didn't notice her sitting there, or they didn't care.
And she'd heard of girls going out with boys, having a great time, and then when they get to school again, the boys act like nothing happened. They're cool, standoffish.
Did she think Chuck was the type to do that? No.
Same guy who talked about comic books and sci-fi B-movies from mid-century Hollywood more times than she could count in the Ricketts mansion? She doubted it.
Still, she stole herself for this moment. She didn't want to be let down. And she knew she would be anyway… if he gave her the cold shoulder, that was.
Taking a deep breath, she swept into the quad, crossing it towards him. The bearded guy—Morgan, was it? As if he hadn't talked about him a bunch both that night in the mansion and during their date the night before last—he saw her first. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack, a Bugle chip literally tumbling out of his mouth and onto his lap. Why he was eating that at seven-forty-five in the morning, she didn't know.
Chuck turned, following his gaze, and the grin on his face laid to rest any of the worries she'd forced herself to have (deeming it necessary to be prepared, just in case, and she knew she was dumb for it now). "Sarah! Hey!"
He hurried up to his feet and reached for her. She reached back, slipping her hand into his with a breathless, "Hi."
And then they both turned to Morgan who was still gawking.
"S-Sarah?" he asked. "This is Sarah?! The Sarah you haven't stopped talking to me about for days?"
Sarah gave Chuck a look, raising her eyebrow. Oh, really?
He blushed bright red and sent Morgan a dangerous look. "This is Sarah. Ricketts mansion Sarah."
"Oh. God. Please, don't let me be Ricketts mansion Sarah. Anything but that," she chuckled, sending him a wide-eyed look.
He cracked up. "Right. Sorry. I, uh…won't call you that again."
"Well, Sarah. Pull up a seat. We have much to talk about." Morgan scooted so that she could sit on the low wall between them. "I need to catch you up on all of the embarrassing stuff from when Chuck and I were growing up together."
"Oh God. Seriously? I'm gonna kill you, Morgan," Chuck hissed from her other side.
"But first, vengeance." Sarah's jaw hung open for a moment. "Oh, yes. Chuck filled me in on the whole thing. All the ghosts—which, frankly, didn't surprise me a bit. Chuck and I have researched this place extensively. There's no way all that freaky shit can go on when she's alive and when she dies, she's not gonna be a scary-ass spirit up in that house she wrecked top to bottom? Please. No way."
"Morgan's a believer."
"I am. Three things I absolutely believe in, beyond all doubt." He counted them off on his fingers. "Ghosts, chupacabras, and love." He smirked at her first, then at Chuck. "We'll get to the third thing later."
"Seriously. Fucking. Kill you," came the dark mutter from the taller nerd of the two.
"But I really wanna focus on this vengeance thing. What's our move? Ants in underwear? Sand in sandwiches? Poison ivy on their jockstraps?"
"Jesus Christ, buddy," Chuck groused.
"What? It's what they fuckin' deserve after they did that to you guys. And they stole your phones! Bro, that's heinous. In today's world? You kids had to go days without your phones! Torture!" Morgan shook his head, sending them pitying looks.
"Well…" Sarah turned to eye Chuck because he had a certain tone that was very intriguing. "I have a bit of an idea about the phone thing." He sent Sarah a mischievous smile. "If you're game."
"Hell yes. What're we doing?"
/\^•.•^/\
Chuck took Sarah's hand and squeezed it. "Let's go get our phones from these assbutts."
She giggled, nodding. And she noticed he sort of glanced down at their hands folded together, and she squeezed his fingers tighter between hers. He seemed to like that a lot.
Sarah walked with Chuck, their shoulders brushing, stride for stride as they approached the picnic tables Virat, Rebecca, Paul, and the rest of the dickheads took up, including Lana del Rey with her mousy brown, thin hair and too much makeup. She wasn't Lana del Rey anymore. At all. She was just Blaykleigh the asshole.
She felt Chuck stand a bit taller next to her as they stopped at the table, and she strove to do the same, lifting her chin a bit even.
Their conversation died down and one by one they turned to look up at them.
Rebecca spoke up. "Oh shit."
Sarah felt nerves for a second, and then she realized that not only was she not alone in this, she had the upper hand.
"Our phones?" Chuck asked, sticking his own upper hand out.
"How'd it go?" Paul tried to joke, but his voice sounded strained. "I was worried the ghosts might eat you. Heh."
"Phones," Chuck said again, hand still out.
Virat snorted and went into his backpack. "All in good fun, friends."
"Don't call us friends," Sarah cut in. "Locking people in a dangerous and condemned building is criminal. Either one of us could've been seriously hurt or killed," she said through her teeth.
"You're being dramatic," Rebecca said. Blaykleigh giggled and rolled her eyes. "You were both totally safe."
Virat finally took their smartphones out of his backpack and stuck them in Chuck's outstretched palm. Chuck calmly picked up her phone and passed it over.
"Thank you," she said, stashing it in her back pocket as he did the same with his. "That was for Chuck, not for you, Virat. You guys are assholes. That wasn't funny." She felt herself gaining steam. "Not only was that not funny, it's kidnapping and illegal. You also stole our phones which is theft and also illegal."
"Tell that to my dad, why don't you?" Paul chuckled.
"We aren't going to do that. But this isn't over." Chuck did something she hadn't expected then, going into his backpack and producing an old, expensive looking watch. When had he even grabbed that? How had she missed that? "I took this from Wilma Ricketts' attic. Just like you told me to. You take it, Paul. I'm sure you'll know what to do with it."
Sarah found herself hoping it was cursed as he slapped it into Paul's hand.
"We fulfilled our end of the bargain. We proved ourselves to you jerk-offs. Now leave us alone," he said. "No more bullying. No more letting your shitty lacrosse friends beat on my buddy, Morgan—"
"Who?" Virat asked, narrowing his eyes. He was being snide, and his friends laughed.
But Chuck rose above it. "We're done with that."
"You don't wanna come party with us anymore? Shucks," Paul said, pouting cartoonishly.
Sarah put her hand on Chuck's arm when she felt him go tense. They should just get out of here and go to class, she realized. This wasn't doing them any good. She was somehow even more pissed off.
But as they turned to go, Virat called them back, purposely calling her name she knew. "Sarah, wait." She turned to eye him dubiously. "How'd you two get out? Break a window? Roof? I'm curious."
Chuck opened his mouth and started telling them: "Well, see, I used my sm—"
"You can keep being curious," Sarah cut in, squeezing Chuck's arm apologetically. "Keep wondering. We don't owe you shit."
"Thanks for the waaa-aaaatch," Paul sang out after them as they walked away. She couldn't help it; that grated on her so bad, she wanted to go back and claw his eyes out.
"I hope that watch is cursed," Chuck muttered darkly.
She let go of his arm and snorted. "I thought the same thing, not gonna lie. I really wanted that to feel better. It didn't go the way I wanted it to."
"Yeah, well… shit rarely goes the way you want it to when you're at the bottom of the food chain," he groused. She sent him a bit of a look and he huffed, shaking his head. "Sorry. That was cynical and out of character. I'm not—They make me so mad. They just always get away with treating people like shit. And they're still, like…kids, ya know? Teenagers. Imagine how much worse they're gonna be as adults. Ugh."
Sarah nodded sagely. "Mmm. I know. Saving grace is we graduate in June, get our diplomas, and bounce the hell out of here, away from those assholes." Then she twisted her mouth to the side a little, feeling shy suddenly. She opened her mouth to say something, when the warning bell rang.
Damn it.
Chuck turned in the direction of his class. "Um…" He made a quiet whining sound. "I don't want to do this today. Why do Mondays suck so bad?"
She giggled. "They do and I'm afraid they always will." She tentatively reached up to play with the buckle on his backpack strap. "Before we go to class, I want to ask you…something."
"Sure." He moved in closer, looking down into her face. Why were his eyes so soft all the time? Or maybe they were just soft when he looked at her? That did things to her insides.
"Do you…want to go out again? Sometime soon? With me? I don't know, maybe…erm…another movie or something cheaper, even. Like burgers or…to…something…" She didn't know how to ask a boy out on a date. That much was clear. She shifted her weight nervously.
"Oh, definitely." He took his phone out and wiggled it. "We have phones again. We'll talk about it. Lunch?"
Sarah beamed at him. "Yeah. Where?"
"The wall where Morgan and I were sitting this morning. Morgs and I get the free lunch, so don't worry if we aren't there immediately."
"I do, too," she said. "We'll all be in line."
"Morgan has a hack to get him there early and he always saves me a spot. Look for us in line, you can squeeze in with us—"
She cut him off by moving up onto her tiptoes and kissing his cheek. "See you in a few hours…"
"Yeah," he breathed, a grin stretching over his face. "See ya…"
She dashed off, beaming, not caring as she passed one of her biggest detractors, Tina the field hockey star. "Where's your ugly ass running, New Girl?"
Sarah wasn't convinced she was all that ugly anymore. The insult bounced off of her, and she just beamed even harder.
/\^•.•^/\
THURSDAY
The days rushed on, and Chuck found the new morning routine and lunch routine was a lot more to his liking now that Sarah had slipped into the fold.
He'd picked her up last night and they'd gotten In-N-Out. He found a good lookout spot and they sat on the car hood eating, talking. She told him more about her family, but he'd noticed her being slightly cagey about her dad in particular. He didn't ask or probe more about it. He didn't want to make her think he was nosey.
Now he was in the lunch line with Sarah, further back than usual because Morgan was nowhere to be found. That didn't bode well at all, and he said as much to Sarah.
"Maybe he got kept after by his teacher," she reasoned.
"Nah. When Morgan's late for lunch, it means someone got him. Probably Fred Ponti. That guy hates Morgan 'cause he can grow a full beard and Fred's only got little wispies on his chin." Sarah laughed at that. "I hope he's okay. Maybe I should go l—"
"GUYS!"
Thank God. There was Morgan, looking pretty much unscathed, rushing towards them, his backpack bouncing to and fro on his back as he staggered to a stop. He was panting, holding up a finger as he stooped to catch his breath, hands on his knees.
"What is it? You okay?" Sarah asked, her hand on his shoulder. He liked how close these two were already getting. Morgan was such a good kid, immediately pulling Sarah in, seeming to almost enjoy that they not only had a third, but a pretty girl for a third. He told him privately it gave them a bit more legitimacy. And also, they just got on really well. She didn't look down at Morgan for his…well, his Morganisms. She took them in stride.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. But you guys haven't heard what happened?"
"What happened?" Chuck asked, helping his best friend stand up straight again.
Morgan slid into line with them and ignored the "Hey! No cuts!" of the kid behind them. He was old hat at this, after all.
"Last night, there was this huge statewide wrestling competition for high schools. Creekwood was supposed to come away with the whole thing 'cause of fuckin' Paul Lubbock, LAPD chief's prized wrestle boy. Dude, he broke his arm during a match. Just like… SNAP! Done!"
Sarah gasped next to him.
"Jake was talking about it just now in my fourth period, bro! He was there! He said you could hear it break! They say it broke in multiple places and they don't even know if his scholarship is gonna hold. Like, how you gonna go to Iowa or whatever and not even start the season 'cause your arm is all busted up and in metal splints?!"
Chuck's jaw fell to the floor.
And he slowly turned to look at Sarah. Her eyes were just as wide as his.
They were thinking the same thing, he knew.
The curse of Wilma Ricketts had left the Ricketts Mansion in the form of a dusty expensive watch he'd stolen out of the attic.
And Paul Lubbock had received the consequences…
A/N: Only unrealistic thing about this story isn't the ghosts... It's the fact that Ellie is so alert and capable of forming sentences after an all-nighter. I own that unrealisticness. I've worked all-nighters and just...no. But specifically folks who work all-nighters in a medical setting, with patients at hospitals and clinics, nurses, doctors, etc. I need to just say this, okay? These people are literally heroes, they're champs, and I salute them. Also, Ellie should not be this alert. Ahhh, youth.
Thanks for reviewing even though you knew it'd be touch 'n go as to me being able to find them. And for following and favoriting. It's a trivial thing, truly...I mean, fan fiction? C'mon. But I still take a lot of heart from folks continuing to do the thing even when the powers that be don't do what needs to be done. Folks continued to review, send me messages here and on other platforms, still followed, still favorited, in the hopes this site would get back up and running. I think you folks are pretty cool. Thank you!
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