Chapter Text
Two weeks. Penny Lamb had been dead for the past two weeks, and without lying, Noel Gruber couldn’t firmly decide whether they’d been the best two weeks of his life or not. Why had they not been the best two weeks of his life? One reason and one reason only. The nauseating swirl of anxiety that came and went every so often had suddenly made itself at home in the pit of his stomach. Aside from that? Things had been great. The social boundaries collapsed as soon as they realised Penny was missing. Without a quarterback, who was going to tell them what was wrong and what was right? That meant, without shame, Noel Gruber had soon found something very peculiar happening to him.
Mischa Bachinski was tolerating his, Ricky’s and Constance’s existence for more than then hour after school when it came down to rehearsing for the choir.
No. In fact, Mischa didn’t just tolerate them, but he seemed to genuinely enjoy hanging around with them. What started out as Mischa joining the choir for the sake of something to do after school turned into joining them at their pathetically dismal table to eat lunch, which then turned to seeing Mischa join them for movie nights every Friday. That then turned into sleepovers, which then turned into sleepovers between Noel and him. It was weird. It was very, very weird, and Noel couldn’t say for sure what he definitely thought about the situation but one thing that he could confirm was he had never been more grateful their star quarterback was lying a foot under floorboards.
Something Noel had noticed as well was how little time Mischa wanted to spend at home. He was always at either his or Constance’s house, and Noel had been meaning to bring it up…but those private study sessions between he and Mischa, where they would spend hours after school studying in the McDonald’s, two 20 chicken nugget share boxes between the for energy. Had someone told he, Noel Gruber, exactly 365 days ago that he would become the mysterious Ukrainian bad boy’s personal tutor, he would’ve laughed. Then again, he’d have laughed at the concept of Penny Lamb dying. When roaming the halls of St Cassian’s, she had seemed immortal. It seemed like nothing could’ve killed her. Turned out it only took a stake through the heart, and she was gone. Gone, to never return…not that anybody else knew that yet.
Right now, though, Noel found himself outside of his locker, going to put one of the folders he required for the lesson he’d just had inside so he didn’t have to lug it around with him. After all, it was lunch, and he could just come and get it after choir was done. Across from him stood the open doors of the cafeteria, and inside, close to the door, he could hear a faint conversation involving said Ukrainian Bad Boy, Erin, the cheer captain and Dan, one of the footballers.
“Wasn’t Penny your friend?” Mischa asked Dan, who whistled.
“Friend? I’d hardly call her that. I mean, she sorta was, but like, she forbade me from dating Erin for no reason, and she wrecked my dad’s ride! Fuck her!”
“Good for you babe!” Erin said in that overly saccharine tone she took on. “Oo! What’s the update between you and Noel Gruber then, Mischa?”
“What update?” Mischa asked, and Noel could even go far as to say Mischa sounded…defensive? “All me and Noel do is go to the McDonalds, and eat chicken nuggets, and we study so that I do not get grounded! There is no update!”
Noel could practically hear the eye roll in Erin’s voice. “It’s where you go as a silent declaration that you wanna lose your virginity! I told you that like, two weeks ago!”
“It’s Mischa Bachinski, of course the guy’s ready to lose his virginity, I mean have you seen him?!” Asked Dan.
Immediately after, Noel heard the snapping of a rubber band and the soft slamming of a lid. Probably someone closing a textbook, or a journal, or something of similar sorts. “Look. Me and Noel? We go there to study. There is nothing else going on between us. He is my…personal teacherer!”
“Do you mean tutor, Mischa?” Dan asked.
“That is the word, yes. Speaking of, I am going to go and find my personal. Tutor.”
Noel spun around, directly facing his locker, now looking away from the entrance to the cafeteria. Surely enough, he heard footsteps, and none to his surprise, Mischa’s voice soon followed.
“Noel Gruber! Good afternoon! I have been looking for you!”
Turning his head over his shoulder, Noel smiled. “Sorry. It’s been a bust day…what’s up?”
“I wanted to show you the results on that test.”
“Oh?” Noel raised an eyebrow as Mischa pulled the folded practise test out of the pocket of his jeans. Noel couldn’t help but laugh. “Have you no decency to respect your work?”
“It is a practise test that will not get me very far in life. It can get all smushed if I want it to.”
Again, Noel laughed as he unfolded it. Holding it delicately, his eyes skimmed over the answers and the results that lay next to them. Tick. Tick. Tick, all the way to the bottom. There, at the top, in red, stood the best grade Mischa Bachinski had gotten since he joined St Cassian’s.
100%.
“Mischa, this is amazing!”
“Yes, well, it was not all my doing. If it had not been because of you, I would be fucked.”
“Yeah, well you did it. I told ya! Practise makes perfect!”
“And I even got my computer device back.”
“Your laptop?”
“Yes.”
“Nice one, Mischa!” Noel smiled. “Seriously, this is amazing for you!” Noel looked at Mischa to notice that he was suddenly very close, so he took a step back. If his face went red, then that was on him for indulging in his eclectic romance films. Kisses always started with someone leaning too forward, and honestly, Noel wasn’t too sure he wanted his first kiss in the corridor of St Cassian’s. “…why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“You are smirking at me!”
Mischa took the sheet of paper from Noel’s grasp, folding it back up, shoving it back into his pocket. “I was just wondering whether you were going to go to the football game tonight?”
Noel laughed a third time, though that one was out of shock primarily. “You’re fucking funny, Mischa.”
“I am being serious! Are you going to the game or not?”
“Are you kidding?! Penny doesn’t let people as stupid as me go to the games on a good day, let alone now!”
“…I think if we page that message through to Little Orphan A-Hole, she would tell you that Penny Lamb is dead.”
Noel blinked. “Oh yeah…I…I forgot.”
“So, are you going to the game?”
He thought about it. Thought about the pros and the cons all over again like someone with a tendency to overthink would often do. Then, he looked at Mischa. “…maybe I will. I’ve never been to a football game before, though, and like, I’m gay, so I’m gonna have no clue what’s going on but school spirit and everything, right?”
“Our team sucks. Most of the time, Penny scored all of the goals but…we could go sarcastically, maybe? Grab food before from the McDonalds, sneak in beers…it might be cool.”
“Mischa, we are not getting drunk at the football game tonight.”
“You might not but I will be. I am Ukrainian, it is in my blood that when there is a celebration, it is time to get drunk!”
Noel shook his head. “…are you implying you wanna go with me to the football game tonight?”
“…You did say that, not me.”
He shut his locker, twisting the dial. “Send me a text about what time I’m meeting you at McDonalds tonight, okay?”
“Yes.”
“Cool. See ya then.” So, Noel Gruber walked off, hoping that he’d thought about the implications correctly and that he wasn’t indulging in another one of his lovesick fantasies.
That evening, there seemed to be even larger of a crowd than usual. More people seemed to turn up due to the fact there was literally nobody able to stop them. Penny Lamb was dead, but to most people, she was missing. She couldn’t stop them from attending no matter what, not anymore, at least. In the stands, Noel, Constance and Mischa sat together, but it was clear who’d actually gone with who and who’d gone on her own accord to fit in. “The true high school experience,” Constance had tried to argue, but both Noel and Mischa had laughed her off. Constance had laughed with them.
In the school itself, though, was the missing third of Noel Gruber’s infamous trio. As a disability advocate, Ocean had all but demanded that Ricky be involved when it came down to the “school spirit” side of things. That was how Ricky Potts ended up becoming a sign spinner for the introductory portion of the homecoming game. All he had to do was stand there, and while oftentimes being humiliated, would spin a sign saying ST CASSIAN’S ROCKS!
It was lame.
This time around, however, it was different. No belittling, but genuinely uplifting, and Ricky would be damned if he said he didn’t think them murdering Penny Lamb had something to do with that change. No. They didn’t murder her. She fell…and then Grace made them chop her body up into parts to fit under the floorboards, but she was already dead. They hadn’t murdered her. She’d already been dead.
So Penny Lamb’s death, through the amazing feature that was cause and effect, had had people cheering for the sign spinner and not the cheerleaders. Huh. What a weird world he lived in.
Now, Ricky was in the boys’ bathroom, trying to keep himself cool. All the sign spinning had made him all sweaty, and he was in no way to currently get himself to his mom’s car. So, he was trying to cool down before he’d make his way to reception, and then to the car park. Then, he’d make his way home and not look back. Noel and Constance could enjoy their night. He would enjoy his night with the cats.
Time passed, and Ricky deemed himself suitable enough to finally leave, so he pushed open the door and stepped out. He turned, about to head down the corridor, but to his surprise, saw someone who was now a mere figment of his imagination.
The teenager had always been described as ghostly, with the palest skin and the oddly white-blonde hair, but this? This was ridiculous.
Ricky didn’t believe ghosts were real. At least, not the ones that were often depicted in horror movies. The blood thirsty, pale, translucent figures of human beings who were stuck on the planet to seek revenge for the rest of eternity. In an instant, his perception had changed because, if he was right in thinking that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, then there, at the end of the hallway, stood the deceased soul of Penny Lamb.
“You miss me while I was gone, Ricky?” She asked, her voice so softly melodic, but Ricky knew better than to trust her judgement. “You really think you could get away? That that the hallway’s safe, that I wouldn’t break you?” She took a step forward, body hunched over. The black and white fabric of her varsity jacket covered the wound where the stake had impaled her. Good. Ricky didn’t think he’d be able to stomach seeing that again. “You can see I’m much improved, Ricky. It ain’t good news for you, you bitch, cuz I’ve made a list, and you’re on it, because, if I remember correctly, Ricky Potts, nerds aren’t allowed at football games, and that includes THIS ONE!”
Her stagger turned into a full on sprint, and all Ricky could do was duck back into the boys’ bathroom. Once again, he mentally cursed his stupid body for not being able to function properly. He was being weighed down his crutches, which was not an ideal situation to be in when being chased by the ghost of St Cassian’s ex-quarterback. Into the nearest toilet stall he ducked, sliding the lock, backing himself against the back wall as much as he could with hopes that it was just his mind playing tricks on him.
Nope. The door creaked open, slamming shut despite the spring that stopped it from shutting too fast. “You know, Ricky,” Penny spoke again from outside the stall. “I think you think that I’m here to seek revenge, but I could care less that you defiled my body, leaving me for some poor, unsuspecting citizen to find me…I mean, you did push me off the edge, after all. But not to worry, I’m on a new crusade. Cuz ya see, Ricky, the world is just too well-behave, it needs to be saved, and you’re too weak to see this next section so, whoopsie-daisy! Ya gotta go!”
High school was hellish enough without being stalked around by the former being of an overly powerful bully. In an act of haste, Ricky reached up, fumbling with the lock to make sure it stayed that way. Closed, locked, and he stayed safe. All he could hear, though, was the chant of his name as her voice got closer. She started at one end of the room, then got to his stall, and his heart jumped into his mouth. Just because he didn’t have a voice didn’t mean she couldn’t use hers, and she was doing it a lot. Chanting his name constantly to let him know that he was dead. Again, never having a voice never really bothered him before, but right now? He wished he had the ability to at least scream for help. All he could hope was that he wasn’t found, that the classic tucking his knees up on the toilet seat, where he’d sat himself down to get as far away from the door as possible, would hide him long enough for her to vanish.
Damn those fucking crutches, though. Damn his fucking thoughts.
“I can hear you, Ricky…don’t kill me? I’m not a nerdy prude? I’m not a loser?” Penny Lamb laughed, and Ricky ceased all thinking abilities. “You’ve gone quiet…didn’t you think I wouldn’t be able to hear you? I mean, I am an ethereal being now so…don’t worry. Someone can hear what you’re saying, and that’s me. But don’t you worry, I’ll take real good care of ya…”
It went quiet for a second, and with another jolting beat of his heart, she sauntered through the closed door.
Damn ghosts having metaphysical powers.
A cold hand grabbed the back of his head, and he knew he was done for. The very last thing that Ricky Potts saw that Friday evening was the wild grin of a girl with a hole through her heart, and then, as she smashed his head against the back wall of the toilet cubicle, everything went black.
Everything went black, and as his life slowly faded from his body, the black faded too.