Chapter 2: New Girl, Part 1

My stomach knotted as I rummaged through the dresser for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, hoping for a casual look that wouldn't make me stand out. Not that it mattered what I wore - nothing I could do would make people not notice me. I was the new girl in a town you'd miss if you blinked. Maybe if I rushed through the day, time would move faster.

I hesitated at the door, my gaze lingering on my mother's urn. I wanted nothing more than to carry her with me today, but that would be like carrying around a neon sign that read: Look at me! I'm a freak! No, thanks. Taking a deep breath, I kissed my fingertips and then pressed them gently to the urn before leaving my room.

Aunt Beth stood in the kitchen, humming a tune I couldn't name. "Good morning, Chloe." She beamed a blinding smile my way. "Are you ready for today?"

I shrugged. "As ready as I can be, I guess."

Abby sat at the table. She was dressed similarly to me. Her frizzy red hair was piled in a messy bun atop her head, and her face was free of makeup. Starting a new school would be easier when I already knew someone. Well, sort of knew someone. Even though Abby and I were cousins, we'd only actually met once - before I became an orphaned charity case that needed a place to live.

After a mostly silent breakfast of cereal, Abby and I left. We climbed into her 1994 Toyota Camry. The car was older than both of us, but the interior was spotless.

"When we get there, I'll drop you off at the front entrance. I have to park around back, but I'll meet you inside and show you around," Abby said. "And I'll introduce you to Rachel; she's my best friend. You two will get along great, and then the three of us can be besties."

"Thanks."

I had no idea where the high school was, but it couldn't be too far away - the town wasn't that big. The entire drive - which took less than five minutes - was made without a word spoken between us.

She cranked up the radio, though, and the moody lyrics of Twenty One Pilots filled the car. I had to give her props for her taste in music. Her loud, off-key singing. . . not so much. I preferred music over talking anyway. With Mom gone, my one safe place was my mind. There, no one could ask me ridiculous questions that would make me feel bad.

Abby pulled in past the Keene Central School sign, and I stared at the monstrous building.

"You can go in through that door." She pointed at the only visible entrance. "The office is right inside. You can't miss it."

"You sure? This place is huge." I laughed in a pathetic attempt to hide my nerves.

"It's a K through twelve school."

My eyes widened. "Seriously?"

She nodded. "Don't worry. It's not as scary as it looks."

"Thanks." I grabbed the handle and shoved the passenger door open. Adjusting my backpack, I headed inside.

The hallway was freezing, as if someone had cranked up the air conditioning and couldn't figure out how to turn it down. Shivering, I hugged myself, then ducked inside the main office. The door closed loudly behind me.

"May I help you?" A woman in her late fifties looked at me through thick glasses.

"I'm Chloe Madison." I shifted on my feet.

She studied me through narrowed eyes. Then, as if an invisible light bulb had gone on over her head, she smiled. "Yes, you're staying with the Benson family, right?"

"Yes." I glanced around the small, crowded office.

Being in confined spaces, especially with people I didn't know, was a nasty, unexpected result of spending too much time in the hospital with my mom. Small room congested with the traffic of doctors and nurses. . . I forced in a lungful of air.

And then I heard the same sound that haunted my dreams - a long, drawn out, high-pitched beeeep. My heart lodged in my throat, and I backed up several steps, as if that would somehow make the noise stop. I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I was literally anywhere else.

"Don't let that stupid old fax machine frighten you." She chuckled.

I exhaled slowly, my nerves still frayed.

"Welcome to Keene Central School. I'm Ms. Fitcher." She grabbed a folder from the top of the filing cabinet behind her. My name was scrawled across the front in black ink. She flipped it open and ruffled through the pages until she came to my schedule, which she pulled out and handed to me. "These are your classes. Mrs. Benson helped pick them based on your transcripts from your previous school."

I took the paper. "Thanks." I gave it a quick glance - Algebra, Study Hall, PE, Lunch, World History, English Composition, and Chemistry.

"Your locker assignment and combination are right there." Ms. Fitcher pointed to the bottom of the page.

"Thanks," I repeated before leaving the office.

Abby stood in the hallway, waiting. She plucked the paper from my hand. "Come on, I'll show you to your locker." She took off ahead of me.

I was grateful for Abby's presence as she helped me find my locker because I never would've found it on my own. In fact, it would be a small miracle if I remembered my way back here.

"I need to run to my locker, too," she said. "Wait here for me, and we'll go to Algebra together."

"Hey, Abby." I clutched her arm. "I just wanted to say thanks for all your help and. . . everything."

"You're family, Chloe, and family always comes first." With an understanding smile, she left.

I turned back to my locker and tested the combination. It opened on the first try, and I swung the door harder than necessary. It banged against the locker next to it. The loud crash of metal on metal made me jump.

The seconds ticked by. I had no idea where Abby's locker was or how long it would take her to get back, but I was not going to stand here any longer. I grabbed for the door, but instead of getting a handful of metal, my fingers slammed into flesh. Every single knuckle in my hand cracked. Pain shot up my arm.

"Ow," I cried softly, cradling my hand to my chest.

"Did you just punch me?" A deep, rich voice cut through the air.