Part 1: Chapter 2

"Hey new-girl, wait up!"

I kept walking even as I recognized Daniel's voice. He caught up anyway, turning me to face him.

"Why... didn't... you wait?" he asked between breaths.

"Because I didn't feel like it," I answered, crossing my arms and looking up at him—he had to be at least a foot taller than me—with my best bored expression.

"Hey, sorry about the bus. Bobby's just an ass," Daniel said.

"Hmm... I couldn't tell," I replied, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Daniel smiled. "By the way, I'm Daniel Barns," he said, holding out his hand.

I stared at his outstretched hand, mentally repeating: Don't befriend the hot guy. Don't befriend the hot guy.

"Don't waste your time trying to befriend me," I finally said. "I won't be here long enough for it to matter." I turned and continued walking toward the school.

He matched my pace effortlessly. "How long are you staying?"

Any other time, I would've told him to get lost, but something made me answer. "Four to six months, probably."

"That's practically forever," Daniel said. "We could be acquaintances instead of friends if that makes you feel better. So... what's your name?"

"You really don't give up, do you?" I glanced over at him.

His smile widened. "What's the point of giving up? Sure, you might lose, but there's always that chance you'll win."

"You won't be winning me over anytime soon—or ever," I said, fighting the urge to return his smile.

"I don't know about that," Daniel said, eyes gleaming. "I was definitely winning you over earlier, until Bobby opened his big mouth."

I had no comeback because he wasn't wrong. Instead, I looked away and quickened my pace.

"Hey, wait up," he called, catching up in two strides. "Sorry if I crossed a line. To make it up to you, come to my party Friday night. It's basically to commemorate how much the new school year sucks." He handed me a small card.

"I won't come, so you should give this to someone who'll actually show up," I said, trying to hand it back.

Daniel dodged my attempt. "Keep it. You might change your mind. Besides, I've got plenty more."

"Fine, whatever," I muttered, stuffing it into my backpack.

"Great!" Daniel beamed as we entered the school. The interior was painted an eye-searing yellow, with flyers plastered everywhere advertising clubs and events. "I'll show you to your homeroom if you tell me your name. Otherwise I'll have to make one up."

"Like what?" I challenged. "And I can find my own homeroom. I've been to fifteen schools—they're all basically the same."

"Not this one," Daniel insisted. "You should know, weird stuff happens here."

"All schools have weird stuff," I countered, remembering one school where they broke into musicals at every opportunity. I like musicals when people can actually sing. They couldn't.

"No, seriously. This place is different," he pressed.

"Why, is it haunted?" I asked sarcastically, the first thing that popped into my head.

"Yes, and I can prove it too," Daniel declared with complete confidence.

I stopped and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. Ghost stories? Please. Every school has their urban legends. At my last school, they tried convincing new kids the gym was haunted by some dead basketball player. Turned out to be the janitor moving equipment around at night.

"How?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Tell me your name and I'll tell you how I can prove it," Daniel countered, a hint of challenge in his voice.

I sighed. "Fine. My name's Catherine Blake."

Daniel's face lit up with that smile again. "Alright Cat, let's go."

"Don't call me Cat," I snapped. Last school, some jerk called me that once, and for the next three months, I couldn't walk down a hallway without someone meowing as I passed.

"Sorry Catherine," Daniel said, looking genuinely apologetic. "It's just easier saying Cat."

"I'll forgive you this once, but no more," I said, softening despite myself.

"You're already warming up to me," Daniel said, grinning.

"Don't push it," I warned, realizing with annoyance that he was right. "So, this proving thing—how exactly are you going to prove it?"

"Stay after school with me today and I'll show you this place is haunted," Daniel said, already leading the way through the crowded hall.

"No," I said flatly.

"Why not?" he asked.

I hesitated. The real answer? I was getting too close to this guy, too fast.

"I have to get home after school," I lied, backing away. "I need to go or I'll be late."

I took off up the staircase before he could respond. At least navigating was easy—all schools have those little numbers above the doors.

I slipped through clusters of students clogging the hallway, grateful for once for my small size. The human roadblocks that would slow Daniel down were nothing to me.

Rounding a corner while counting door numbers, I slammed into a girl with long brown hair who stood about two inches taller than me. She was wearing head-to-toe pink. Ugh. In my experience, people dressed like walking cotton candy are either certifiable or preps. Judging by her equally pink-clad entourage, definitely a prep.

"Sorry," I mumbled, attempting Bert's requested politeness.

"Watch where you're going," she barked.

So much for being nice.

"Well, if you didn't stand in the middle of the hallway, I wouldn't have bumped into you," I shot back. "I mean, you and your little posse are taking up the whole corridor."

She gasped dramatically. "How dare you!"

"Oh, I dare. Now move so I can be on my way." She didn't budge. I really should learn to be nicer on my first day, but... nah. "Move, Barbie doll."

Her friends gasped in unison like they'd rehearsed it.

She raised her hand to slap me, but another hand caught hers mid-swing.