Chapter 10: The Twins' Night

The loud scream echoed down the hallway, sending a chill through the air. Ms. Belinda's heart raced as she ran down the stairs, urgency in her every step. She couldn't think straight. The scream still echoed in her ears as she dashed to the parking lot, rain pouring down, soaking her instantly. Gasping for breath, she fumbled in her bag for her car keys, fingers trembling.

The rain pounded against her as she climbed into the driver's seat. She tried to focus, but it was difficult. Her vision blurred, and the road ahead seemed to fade with every drop of rain. As the wipers wiped away the water, a flashback hit her like a tidal wave. It was a memory of a car, abandoned on the campus grounds, its windows fogged with rain. She was there, standing, just as the storm began to roll in, and she couldn't shake the eerie feeling that had settled in her chest. She was shaken, but she pushed herself forward, trying to ignore the past.

When she finally reached her house, drenched from head to toe, Ms. Belinda rushed into her room. Her body was heavy, and her mind was still spinning. Flashbacks returned, clearer this time. The image of a young boy crying, confused, as he was escorted out of a car. But it wasn't just the boy that haunted her—it was the body inside. The lifeless body of two people, their faces frozen in time, forever gone.

It was the same incident that had triggered her nightmares ever since. Her mind took her back to that day—she could almost hear her own voice, crying out apologies, her young face frantic with guilt and sorrow. The memory lingered like a thick fog, and the pain of it never fully left her.

Still shaken, Ms. Belinda went to her closet, pulling open the bottom drawer with shaking hands. She reached into the dark space and pulled out a box, dusty with age. Inside, there was an old photo—two young women, one in her twenties with a bright, carefree smile, and the other in her mid-forties, with the same dark eyes and a striking resemblance to Ms. Belinda. They stood side by side in the campus of St. Dominic High School, smiling like nothing in the world could touch them. The memories flooded back, the warmth of those days, before everything had changed.

The next morning, Rick was the first to arrive in the classroom. Tristan was still asleep, slumped over his desk in a way that seemed to be his signature pose lately. It was a new substitute teacher who greeted Rick when he entered the room. Ms. Belinda had been feeling unwell, so the students were now faced with a fresh face in the classroom.

The substitute introduced herself as Ms. Dorothy. In her late twenties, she had jet-black hair that framed her face perfectly, and her high-waisted skirt had a daring slit that caught the attention of the boys in the class. She was attractive, and it was evident by the way the boys whispered and murmured amongst themselves. Rick didn't pay much attention to their behavior, too focused on the lesson ahead. Still, it was hard not to notice the wave of admiration in the room, especially from the boys who were practically ogling her.

In the hallway, Alfonso sat alone with his guitar, strumming quietly. He was the quiet type, always enigmatic, his moods shifting with every passing day. His eyes were always half-closed, as though he was lost in his own world, and people knew better than to try and read him. Monica, however, couldn't help but steal glances at him. She noticed the muscles in his arms flex as he played, and though she tried to focus on something else, the sight of him caught her attention more than she liked to admit.

Just as Monica was about to approach Alfonso, the twins—Erick and Drew—arrived, their usual cheerful selves. They were family friends with Alfonso, and their connection went back to their childhood. After all, it was a small town, and everyone seemed to know everyone else. The twins greeted Alfonso warmly, and then, with bright smiles, invited Monica to their birthday bash later that evening.

"You should come, Monica!" Carmela said, her voice full of excitement. "It'll be fun. Everyone's invited!"

Monica hesitated for a moment but couldn't resist their enthusiasm. "Okay, I'll come," she said, knowing she could use a distraction.

Later, Rick, Troy, and Tristan were walking toward the football field when the twins approached them again. Although they weren't particularly close, Rick and the others had crossed paths with the twins during their immersion projects. It was a small town, so everyone had some connection to one another.

"We're having a party at our house tonight," Erik said. "It's going to be huge. You guys should come."

Rick glanced at Troy, who shrugged. "Why not? It'll be fun."

The party was in full swing when they arrived at the twins' house that evening. The large mansion was alive with the noise of music and laughter, the sounds spilling out into the yard where teenagers gathered in groups. It wasn't a party with alcohol, but the energy was just as wild. Everyone seemed to be letting loose, dancing and talking, while a few teenagers loitered by the side of the house, exchanging stories and laughing too loudly.

From a distance, Rick could see the twins, holding drinks in their hands, talking to a group of friends. There was a sense of carefree joy in the air, a sense of youthful freedom that Rick couldn't help but be drawn to. He and Tristan wandered deeper into the party, eventually finding a small circle of friends near the backyard, where Troy and Monica had joined them.

Alfonso showed up a few minutes later, looking every bit the mysterious figure he was. He took a drink from one of the party cups being passed around and joined the group, his quiet presence adding an air of intrigue to the conversation. The group spent the evening laughing and talking, the sound of their voices blending with the music that continued to play in the background.

As the night wore on, Tristan found himself wandering through the house, looking for something—or perhaps someone—to occupy his mind. He ended up in the kitchen, where a few people were bustling about, trying to prepare snacks for the guests. He didn't expect to see Fey, who was busy slicing vegetables and arranging food on a platter.

Tristan stood frozen for a moment, his eyes wide in surprise. Fey was working hard in the kitchen, something he had never seen her do before. She glanced up from her work and caught his eye, offering him a shy smile.

He was shocked that Fey was working there. It was a decent job, but he never knew the full story of Fey's life.