Finding The Study Partner

Callie stared at the piece of paper she clutched in her hands. The ink was smeared from sweat. She wiped one hand on her jeans and then put the paper in that hand while she wiped the sweat off the other. She couldn’t deny the fact she was nervous.

Being the new girl at school was not something she had wished for. She had always lived in the same city. Now, here she was in her senior year, starting all over. Life was so unfair.

At least she had met someone nice. She thought he might even be a friend. He had been kind that first day of school, while many of the other kids were cold to her. She liked Jardan. He had a nice smile, and she always categorized people by their smile.

There was Cupboard Lane. She was looking for Attic Vista. The names in this town were so weird. She lived with her mom on Lilybird Court. Whatever happened to Lake Drive or Washington Street? Everything around there was so odd.

Odd was an understatement. The people were downright strange. Everyone, including her English teacher, wore such bizarre clothing. Mrs. Writenow, funny name she had, was about six feet tall and her long, black hair dragged the floor. Callie had never seen so much hair on one person before. Her dark-colored dress that flowed around her made her appear as though she belonged in the Middle Ages.

Jardan said she had always been that way. Everyone who lived in Shadowfort had lived there all their lives. That was really strange. Why would her mother move her here of all places? For Jasper, of course. He was her mother’s new husband. She seemed to do anything for him.

All thoughts left her as she rounded the corner to see the street sign that read “Attic Vista”. It wasn’t exactly a street sign like those back in Lincoln. It was more of a wooden post on the corner with the names of the streets carved in it. One side read “Attic Vista”. The other read “CandleWick”.

Callie stood still at the edge of the street corner that would bring her closer to Jardan’s house. A breeze rustled the crepe myrtle tree whose branch hung over her head. A subtle lilac scent was in the air. That was the one nice thing about the town. Flowers were everywhere. Even her teacher had them in the classroom.

The houses on CandleWick were old, Dutch-style homes. Though they all were somewhat identical, each had its own character. The houses on Attic Vista followed the same pattern. Oh, they were not the same style of home. These were more of a Victorian style with the rounded turrets, or witch’s tower, on at least one corner. From where she stood, Callie could not see one house that was the same. She could only see four houses as the road curved, but each one was the same style yet designed completely differently.

Each home was larger than any others Callie had seen around town. These were at least three stories tall and were set back from the road with large, front yards. She glanced down at the smudged writing to make sure she was at the right place. Despite the sweaty smudges, the words could still be read: 1000 Attic Vista.

Right road.

Callie swallowed and gazed down the road. How far would she have to go? That was a good question. She wouldn’t know until she actually started walking. That was easier said than done. She should have told Jardan no, but he was so nice. And she was in desperate need of a friend.

She took a deep breath and hesitantly took a few steps forward. It wasn’t hard. She just moved one tennis shoe in front of the other. Then she repeated that action. She focused on her feet and willed them to move. Several yards later, she found herself at the first house.

The long driveway had two tall pillars on each side of its entrance. She searched for the number of the house and found ‘100’ carved into the stone. Who did that? Everyone else put up stickers with numbers on them, but these were actually carved into the stone pillars.

She was at 100 Attic Vista. A glance at the paper confirmed that she needed 1000 Attic Vista. How far would she have to walk?

She continued on to the next house. Relief flooded her as she read ‘200’ on the stone entrance. She had been afraid it would read “101”. Maybe luck was on her side.

As she moved past the entrance, she stopped. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She had always read that in books and thought it was something writers just said to make the reader nervous. No, it was real. Her hair actually stood up on the back of her neck. Scared as to what caused it and afraid to even breathe, she slowly turned around.

No one was there. Not a single person or creature could be seen. Only a small garden, full of daisies and some other flowers she didn't know the names of, stared back at her. That’s all that was in front of low shrubs that bordered the property line. Could something or someone be lurking in those bushes? She squinted her eyes and peered through their dense leaves, but she saw nothing.

Shrugging her shoulders, she laughed and began walking toward 1000 Attic Vista again.

300 Attic Vista.

400 Attic Vista.

Counting as she passed each house was the only way to cope with the feeling she was under surveillance. After she went by each house, she turned to try and catch who was watching her. Each time she saw no one. On she went.

1000 Attic Vista. Finally. She thought she’d never get there. When her eyes saw Jardan’s house, she gasped.

It was bigger than all the others. 1000 Attic Vista appeared to be three times the size of the other massive homes she had passed. Examining the area, she noticed she was on a dead-end street. The closest house was quite a distance away.

Was he the son of the richest man in the world?

A part of Callie wanted to bolt. She could run back home and no one would know she had come. She scrutinized her hand-me-down clothes and felt the sweat on her palms increase. Why was Jardan so nice if he was so rich?

She started to turn back home but yelled at herself. “Callie Jane Kirkland, you are not a coward. You stood up to Billie Jean Calloway in second grade, and you punched out Bobby Bentley for trying to kiss you. A rich kid is nothing compared to them.”

She straightened her shoulders and turned back to the house. Before she could talk herself back out of it, she strutted through the large stone entrance with an iron piece that crossed between the pillars and read “Darknight”.

Her long walk up the driveway took her past rows and rows of gorgeous flowers reaching up to gather in the sun’s rays that shone brightly behind her. The flowers were on either side of her until she made it to the front door. She reached up and rang the doorbell, then glanced back down the driveway. Her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped and backed up against the door.

Every flower she had passed was turned toward her as though watching.