Super Disappointing Hallway

The halls were eerily quiet. With the thick cafeteria doors closed, even the sound of rambunctious teenagers was reduced to soft murmuring. I was used to wandering the hallways when I wasn't supposed to. Being socially invisible, my teachers sometimes locked me out of the room on accident. But there was something strange about the halls today. Like they were physically empty and quiet, sure, but someone was still there… Watching us in an empty and quiet way. Like a ghost.

At first, I let Eliot lead the way. He seemed to have calmed down and I got the vibe that he somehow equated 'leading the way' to 'helping me.' It seemed fair to let him try to help me out, even if he had gotten me into this mess to begin with. But eventually, I got tired of him being so slow. I grabbed his hand roughly in mine and dragged him along at my own, faster pace. He wasn't the only one who knew where the student council's office was.

At our school, the third floor is reserved almost entirely for the student council. The school has a central main entrance and two hallways branching off from there, called East and West Hall. The two halls only have two floors, with staircases on either end that bring you up and down. But the main part of the school building, where the gym and stuff are, is different. It looks like a tower from the outside because, unlike the rest of the school, the central portion is four stories tall. Everyone knows that the third floor is reserved entirely for the student council.

We don't really talk about the forth floor, because it's supposedly cursed. You know. Normal high school stuff.

The student council itself is pretty self contained. There are very few reasons to interact with them in their office, so very few students climb the central staircase. When the two of us reached the stairwell, Eliot dug his heels into the floor to stop us. His sneakers squeaked on the white tile.

I released his arm and put both my hands on my waist.

"What is your problem?" I groaned, "It's just the student council."

Eliot's hands were clasped together and his forward slumped shoulders reeked of timidness. He averted his gaze from my face when he replied, "It's not just a student council. They're really dangerous, Ophelia."

"How? Can they smell that I didn't vote for them?" I reflexively rolled my eyes. Who had I voted for? Did it count? No one came to pick up my ballot anyway. Thanks, social invisibility. You're really democratic.

I knew my joke was bad, but Eliot didn't even crack a polite smile. His green gaze finally met mine and he startled me with a sincerely concerned look. "I understand your remark. A typical high school's student council is a popularity-based elected position meant to simulate a real world Democratic election process on a small scale—"

"You're making my joke even less funny now." I groaned.

Eliot flinched and bit his tongue. He began lacing his fingers anxiously, but held eye contact. "The student council here isn't based on a normal election. It was rigged."

Was I supposed to be surprised? All elections are rigged. Maybe that was his attempt at humor?

Since he hadn't laughed at my joke, I wasn't going to laugh at his either. I kept my lips trained in a straight line and silently waited for him to continue.

"Their job is to keep this secret. Since you found out, you're in their way." Eliot continued, "So please stay behind me. And try not to say too much to them."

None of that sounded funny. My frown was no longer hard to maintain. It was strengthened by confusion and felt concrete on my face. Eliot kept looking to me like he wanted an answer. Was I supposed to agree? I didn't know if I wanted to. It felt like agreeing would be admitting that this situation was serious. I wanted it to stay interesting, but safe. Like reading a novel.

Still, he looked nervous. I didn't fully understand why he was so worked up, but I could tell when someone needed to be reassured. So while I wasn't ready to agree to his terms verbally, I did silently offer my hand to him. I've heard that holding hands is supposed to be comforting, but whoever said that has never held hands with a vampire. Eliot's hand was cold as death and his grip hardly reassuring. I could feel him trembling. Whatever anxiety he was trying to express with words was better expressed with his nervous touch.

I tried to put it out of my mind as we climbed the staircase.

This had been my first time going to the third floor. As we stepped out of the stairwell, Eliot and I were faced with a long hallway. The same tiling from downstairs was up here too and the walls were the same old reddish bricks. I knew that the gymnasium was below our feet and that I was facing the back of the school. We could probably have seen our picnic spot from the window at the end of the hallway.

All in all, the third floor wasn't very impressive. It was almost boring. Eliot had gotten me worked up enough that I half-expected to see a three headed dog up here. Instead I was facing with an empty hall and only one door on either wall. To my right was a door labeled 'storage' and to my left was a door labeled 'student council office.' It was all very disappointing. At least the labels were efficient.

"Just follow my lead," Eliot whispered to me, "and they won't hurt you."

"Chill. We're going to be fine." I replied with a shrug. My words seemed to calm him. Which was a dumb choice, since I was in no position to comfort anyone. Reassured by my unearned confidence, Eliot exhaled one last anxious breath. Then he reached for the door knob.