Necromancer - 5. Pagans

General Maths class was period two, just before lunch. I noticed immediately that Simon's walking route was not toward chess club (which was in the same block) and it was not the direction of the school oval. Simon was heading to F block – Pagan club. I trailed after him. Normally I'd call out and walk with him, but he moved so quickly that I more or less followed him instead. His trajectory was like an arrow.

That morning in rollcall Simon had caught my eye when I'd walked inside. One corner of his mouth turned up politely and he'd dropped his eyes to the desk. It was his version of saying Hi Peter with a wave. Maybe we were on good terms after all.

I took the concrete steps quickly, ancient gum smears had gone black after years of being trodden underfoot. I turned onto the outdoor level in time to see Simon hesitating before F10. His hand froze halfway to the door handle.

"Simon," I called out on approach.

"Are you following me?" His surprise narrowed into suspicion.

"I would've come here anyway. This is the hangout for Pagan club, right?" I slowed again under his stare.

"Right..." Simon's dark hand yanked down the handle and he pushed open the glossy door. The room was empty.

"They're probably dawdling. We could wait for them inside."

"Yeah..." Simon acquiesced, stepping inside and flicking on the light switch. My heart was beating with excitement as I followed him into the empty room. He wound in and took a seat on the second row. I stepped over, didn't take the seat next to him but the one next to that. Simon seemed like someone who wanted his space respected. I wasn't sure how comfortable he was with me yet.

He sat still with his eyes on the table. I unslung my bag and started fishing around for my sandwich. I watched Simon reach up and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear in a girlish way. My heartbeat accelerated. I pulled out my lunch and started to unwrap it. Simon shuffled in his seat, uncomfortable again. I wondered if he had restless leg syndrome, or something like that.

"Do you want some? It's peanut butter and honey." I held out half my sandwich by its gladwrap so my fingers weren't touching the bread.

"Peanut butter and honey?" Simon gave me a weird look.

"It tastes pretty good. Me and my sister have eaten this since kindergarten. Guess it's a family thing."

Simon eyed the food curiously. Then to my surprise, he reached out and took it. He gave it an inspection, turning it over. He murmured a "thanks", then carefully bit into it. Chewed, gave a nod to admit it did taste good, then swallowed. We ate together in silence. Simon seemed more comfortable beside me than ever before. I would've preferred it if Pagan club never showed up, but they did. A few minutes later a group of laughing girls walked in while eating canteen food, I could smell the warm dough of a pizza bun. They stopped and stared when they caught sight of us.

"This room is reserved." A chubby girl with dyed hair informed us, our presence was like we'd slapped her.

"We're here for Pagan club." I spoke up while Simon jostled beside me. The girls looked at each other like they didn't know what to do.

A goth girl with messy blonde hair and black nail polish clicked her tongue "Huh..." she appraised us and then shrugged. She moved to take a seat on the front row "I guess it's fine."

The other four girls, all tubby, looked at each other and went to take their seats with more noticeable reluctance. I thought I recognized something in the blonde's eye. Eagerness as she examined two good-looking boys taking interest in her club. I wondered if she was the founder.

"You should've came last week, we all baked cupcakes for the Yule festival."

"Yule?" I asked. Simon clenched his hands, knuckles cracking, then splayed them onto the table.

"Shortest day of the year. Symbol of planetary rebirth." She was leaning back in her chair, trying to act cool. 'Trying' being the key word there. Simon had been absolutely spot-on about these girls being misfits. They wore gemstone necklaces, the fattest one had a bracelet with a circle and star – a pentacle.

"Oh. The winter solstice." I splayed my hands uncomfortably. The girls were all looking at us. "So...?"

"Alright guys." The blonde whipped to her posse. "I want to start with a poem reading and then we can go back to talking about E.A.s videos." She hopped out of her chair and went to close the door. Then she started fishing through her bag as she wandered back "My name's Emily. Guys, you should introduce yourselves."

Monica. Jessica. Chloe. Tammie.

"Hi, I'm Peter. I do theatre club." I wanted to sound friendly. Ms Worrall was bound to be anxious about me disappearing from rehearsals – we were supposed to be covering Act Two with the props today.

"Simon." He dipped his head. His lips and neck tightened as he swallowed, that Adam's apple shifting. He looked serious, but not nervous. These girls certainly didn't seem like they were hiding the power to raise the dead.

"What kind of pathworking are you guys interested in?" Emily spoke without looking at us, still rifling through her bag.

"Ah... I'm a novice. Just interested in paganism in general."

"Hm are you a Leo?" she asked suddenly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Your star sign. I'm getting mad Scorpio vibes from your friend there too."

"I'm a Virgo." Simon answered her.

"And I don't know what my star sign is." I replied.

"When were you born?"

"October Twenty-second..."

"Hmm maybe it's your ascendants. I'm a Sagittarius." She gave us a wink.

"Just get to the damn reading already." The dyed-haired girl, maybe Monica, rolled her eyes. She was the least overweight of the fat ones but it showed the most in her face, piggy-like.

Emily pulled out a crinkled piece of lined paper, her black fingernails unfolding it to read "If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended - That you have but slumbered here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream..."she peered over the page at us, pausing before folding it together again "Shakespeare, a Midsummer Night's Dream..."

"Woo!" one of the girls started clapping. Tammie, the largest girl, was the only one too shy to relax. She stayed quiet. Jessica, I think it was Jessica, kept shooting furtive glances at Simon. Appreciative glances that he didn't notice. The other two girls were following Emily's lead, trying to show off and be loud for us. It was the girl version of when douchebags act out to impress nearby women.

"Are you guys okay about demons?" Emily gripped the back of a plastic chair and leaned forward.

I felt my face go back. The girl gave us a devious smile. Was she still showing off? Or were we getting to a confession... they were practicing black magic. They were raising the dead in Scone.

"Vampires are better." Maybe Monica spoke up.

"Edward Cullen is so dreamy..." The ponytail girl, Chloe.

Emily hadn't moved her eyes from us. Simon reached into his bag and showed her the purple candle from the other night.

"Is this yours?" he asked seriously. Emily leaned forward to inspect it, confused.

But Jessica was the one to blurt "Hey that's mine!"

"I found it in a vigil on Lindsey street." he bitterly remarked while the girl thoughtlessly snatched for it, Simon pulled it back before she could take it.

"Lindsey Barrow?" one of the girls asked.

"My step-brother Toby must've put it there. He's such an asshole." Jessica complained.

"Did Toby scratch that pentagram into it?" Simon held the candle out and the girl took it slower this time. She shared a look with Emily who crossed her arms. The atmosphere in the room shifted. Simon pressed "You guys go out into the forest much?"

"You need to be initiated into our club if you want to know about secret club activities. Do you want to join our club?"

"Well... with theatre and the Enchanted Kingdom play coming up... I don't really have the time." I excused myself lamely.

Simon was pert-mouthed "No... thank you..."

"Well... so be it. May as well continue. We might sway you by the end of our meeting."

The girls were downright obnoxious. Socially inept. It was almost painful to watch them snipe at each other, putting on a show for the normals – Simon and I. They bragged and made up stories. No, you so did not do that! We were the audience, me lip-swallowing and looking around the room. Simon's lips had become a thin line. I finished my lunch and when the bell rang we all stood up to go. Much of the meeting had revolved around TV series while Emily directed some talk towards winter goddesses and ancient lore. They might've got along smoother than my friends, but it was all so fake. I wasn't used to saying and doing so little on my lunch breaks.

Emily lingered by the door to ask us "So what'd you guys think? Want to join our club?"

"We'll get back to you and let you know." I forced out a smile.

When Simon and I were walking away I whispered to him "What do you think?" We took the stairs at the same pace.

"I don't know."

"There's no way those girls had anything to do with Tommy. They're complete wannabes. I bet they spend their free-time watching reruns of Vampire Diaries and bragging about pretend boyfriends."

"You know, you're kind of bitchy."

That stung, because it was true. My whole friend group had a bitchy side. I didn't like to blame it on the way we were, I preferred to think of it as the way we worked together. And over the years, it just stuck as habit. Changed us inside.

"Well you're overly suspicious. Do you seriously think they're doing rituals in the forest?"

"I don't know..." Simon repeated, irritable. He sighed "Have you spoken to Jane about what she saw?"

"Not yet... I haven't seen her."

"Well if she can describe the people she saw last night that could help us. A bunch of short, fat high-school girls hanging out with their football star crush in the forest, brought back as their zombie servant."

"And you said I was bitchy." I retorted.

Or... Jane freaked out because she saw more than one zombie. I didn't voice that concern.

Modern History and English passed like a breeze. When second lunch came around I found Melanie and Erin sitting in the usual spot, but no Jane. My remaining friends told me she was having a meeting with the councillor to talk about whatever happened to her. They looked blank as they said it, unsure of what to do – playing up concern nor showing it didn't feel like the appropriate reaction. I headed to the administration block so I could find out the truth.

There was guilt. I felt partially responsible for Jane running off like she did. But at the time, heck even now, I didn't actually believe there was something bad out there. Right? These chilling nerves though, my instincts were saying something different.

In the administration block, around the corner was a walkway that lead to the deputy principle's office and the school councillor. The first door was ajar and I saw fold-out chairs lined against the wall, a spiky plant sitting in the corner. A waiting room. Behind me the hustle of office work continued. I pushed the door open and found her slouched on a chair.

"Jane!" I walked in, she raised her head as I threw myself into the seat next to her. "...how are you feeling?"

"Not the best." She looked down again, sullen. Long brown hair falling in front of her face.

"You're going to talk to the councillor? About Friday night?"

She nodded. Then raised her head "Simon Chernosky was in there. I just walked in but she told me to wait in here."

"Simon was talking to the councillor?"

"Maybe he has regular meetings? He moved from another school, didn't he? Lindsey Barrow moved to a different school. She probably talks to a councillor."

I stared intently at my knotted fingers. For a moment I let that information sink in. If something had happened to Simon it would explain why he is the way he is. I shook it off. I needed to get the story from Jane before she was whisked away into the councillor's office.

"Jane, what'd you see?"

"It wasn't real. It couldn't have been..."

"Did you see Tommy Phelps?"

"No." she looked at me thoughtfully.

"Did you see other people there?"

"No. Not other people. It was just the two of them."

"But the voice." I pressed with urgency. "Telling us to 'go away'. Was that Tommy?"

"I couldn't see who spoke to us. It was dark. He was just, like a shadow..." Jane's eyes drifted off in thought "I could see her though."

"Who?" I watched Jane's eyes moving slowly back to mine, fearfully.

"Angela Preaker." She said the name softer than a whisper.

I swallowed. Nobody else had said anything about our missing classmate. It was all just talk of Tommy. I took a moment to focus my thoughts, but I was sure Jane had to be mistaken.

"Tommy and Angela were together?"

"I don't know if that other thing was Tommy, I didn't get a look at it. But she was there."

"And she looked... like a zombie?" If Tommy was decayed from over two weeks of being dead, I could only imagine how gruesome Angela's seven-month-expired body looked like.

"No." Jane was pale as she spoke, as if she were revisiting the memory.

"Angela's alive?"

"No."

I didn't understand what Jane was saying. It didn't make sense, and it didn't fit Simon's story at all. I tried to recall that moment, looking out my window. Everyone who claimed to have seen Tommy – seen something – said it was a rotting, walking corpse.

Jane collected herself "She looked beautiful. But she wasn't alive... she had red eyes." Her speaking was low and she breathed through her mouth, quick and shallow "she smiled at me-"

"I'm ready for you now, Jane." Our dark-skinned councillor lady appeared in the doorway, the bead chain of her oval glasses swaying. My friend stood straight up and vanished behind the door. The greying woman stayed to regard me "Are you alright, dear?"

"Fine." My smile wouldn't reach my eyes. I stood slowly and sidled out of the room, the woman looking vaguely concerned as she watched me go.

I felt more confused than ever as I left the office block and re-entered the cold outside. I had only two reliable accounts from firsthand witnesses, and they contradicted each other. If Tommy looked like your typical Hollywood zombie, why was Angela a 'red-eyed beauty'? None of it made any sense. But Angela Preaker was still technically missing, right? The unspoken consensus was her kidnapper probably left her dead in a ditch somewhere shortly after taking her, but no one had managed to find the body.

He could've weighed her down with bricks, taken her to a river or creek. But if Angela was back too...?

Simon had seemed more calm about what he'd witnessed. He'd just been walking at night when Tommy stumbled in front of him, apparently. Jane had already been scared, and her mind could've easily constructed an illusion in the moment. I tried to picture it. Maybe it wasn't Angela after all. Maybe it was Emily from Pagan club, her hair done up differently and wearing red contact lenses. Smiling after she was discovered with Tommy Phelps.

Ahead of the crowd was Simon, skulking through campus towards the oval. Sitting by himself second lunch? I sped up to meet him.

When I'd weaved my way through the masses he was several paces ahead of me, just crossing into the tree-line which was probably his regular hangout.

"Why do you sit here?" I asked by way of greeting.

"Why do you care?" Simon responded after noticing me.

"The library is private. You can read there, and it's not so dirty." I dragged my finger along the bumpy ridges of the rain-worn table. Simon sat down and faced away from me.

"It feels too enclosed." He answered, not looking at me. Going through his backpack.

I took a seat at the wooden table across from him, put my hands together.

"Do you get anxiety? Is that why you come here?"

He eyed me from the corner of his dark eyes "Sometimes."

"You fidget a lot, but it's not because you're nervous. You don't like people. Is it something to do with your body, why you can't get comfortable?"

"Okay first," he leaned forward "It's not that I don't like people. I just don't trust them. And as for the second part, why does it matter to you anyway?"

We were staring at each other; his expression was defensive and piercing. I wanted to say right then that it was because I liked him.

"Do you trust me?" Just say it.

"I don't know."

"I like you."

Simon's dark eyes regarded my face as what I said settled into the air between us. I waited for the recognition, or maybe disgust. He wasn't surprised, which made me think he'd suspected it. My brain froze in the seconds that passed and I noticed that while Simon understood what I'd said to him, there wasn't any revulsion. I waited for him to say something but he didn't, he watched me with a lighter expression than before.

My brain began to thaw while my pulse pounded, head in a haze of nerves.

"Simon, are you gay?"

"Is that any of your business?"

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. He didn't move away. His lips were so soft. I could smell deodorant and remnants of shaving gel. I moved my lips slowly against his, I wanted to touch his smooth coffee-coloured skin. There were butterflies, something real in this. For a split-second it seemed like Simon was pushing back, but then he was standing up and moving away from the table.

"Simon?" Had I upset him? His expression was blank and confused as he half-turned away from me. Deliberating whether or not to just go.

"...I'll see you in class."

He left. I blinked forward in confusion, my thoughts racing. Then my lips pulled themselves up at the corners – a genuine smile.