The Demoness of the Hall

*** Haley’s POV

“Phoebe, hurry up and get dressed or you’re going to miss the bus!” I yell, scrambling to throw my sister’s scattered supplies into her bag. She’s too damn young to be taking this long to get ready, and I suspect she might be sleeping on the toilet again. I pound on the door loudly and a slight “eep” confirms my suspicions. “Hurry it up! Aunt Mel’s not here to take you to school if you miss the bus!” That isn’t entirely true. Our aunt works the overnight shift at a gas station seven days a week and is more than likely fast asleep now… assuming I haven’t woken her up.

Groggily waddling out in an inside-out shirt, with her eyes still half-closed, Phoebe grumbles. “No breakfast again?”

Having woken up earlier to check our sparse fridge and cabinet, I nod grimly. “I’m afraid not…” My sister looks like she wants to say something, but instead tries to grab her bag from me. “No no no, fix your shirt first… and did you brush your teeth?”

“... yes?"

“Go brush your teeth.”

Phoebe shambles away, proving once and for all that not all kids are endless bundles of energy. Alright, now, to deal with lunch… We have all of two slices of bread left… the end pieces… it’ll have to do. Alright, please tell me we have bologna! No… Ham? No… Jam? Hell yeah! Clinging desperately to the sides of the jar is just enough jam to mostly coat a slice of bread, pair that with our almost equivalent supply of peanut butter and we have one sandwich! Kind of…

I throw the sad, bready thing into a bag with a banana and some loose change I have that I hope is enough to buy milk. It’s better than nothing. Barely, but it’s what we have.

My sister walks out once again, yawning at the sky. Her shirt is on correctly this time but I’m pretty sure I didn’t hear the sink. “Teeth!” I command, being met with a rough grunt as a response. This time, I watch Phoebe so I know she isn’t just running the water to fool me. Once she’s done, I look at the clock and– DAMNIT ALL!

Scooping the child into one arm and carrying all of her stuff in the other, I sprint down to the bus stop, flagging down the large vehicle just as it’s about to leave. I gently set Phoebe down on the sidewalk and she hops onto my legs, hugging them. “I love you, mommy! See ya later!” I smile wryly at this. Still with the ‘mommy’ thing, huh? … It’s fine, I guess, as long as she’s happy. I ruffle Phoebe’s uncombed hair (covertly fixing it up a bit as I do) before she hops off, takes her bag, and skips aboard her ride to school.

Once the bus is out of sight, I collapse onto the nearby bench. I’m both too young and too old for this shit. Taking more than a few moments to rest on the bench, I realize that I’ve left my own bag at home. If I go back for it now, I’m going to be late. Not that I have a problem with truancy, but what’s the point in even grabbing it? My grades aren’t going to magically improve because I have some books I never read. Ain’t like I had lunch to begin with anyway.

Forcing myself to my feet, I slowly walk to school.

…

I… I fucking hate this place. Scornful looks, murmuring here and there, people staring at me just long enough for me to get uncomfortable but looking away when I stare back. It’s sickening. Best part is, I did this… I made my proverbial bed here, and for whatever reason, I made it out of nails.

My stomach growls and I feel the familiar pangs of a hunger headache coming on. I’d give anything to have lunch today… or, more aptly, I’d take anything. Down the hall from where I am, I see someone new. A small guy, not by normal human standards, but definitely among the veritable jungle of large metamorphosed students. He’s alone and looks kind of confused. Obviously, he’s new here. And would ya look at that? Dorky, new-looking clothes from some store his mom probably dragged him to… he’s got cash. My stomach makes another furious roar.

This… this is something she’d do…

It just makes sense, dear.

It doesn’t… but it doesn’t matter. Walking up to the new kid, I put on my best wicked smile. “Hey there fresh-meat… got anything for me?”

…

Waking up in the infirmary with a start, I shoot forward into a seated position. I’m more than a little confused. Being spun around and played by a fucking pipsqueak… I thought it had to be some kind of fever dream.

It was quite pathetic–

Nobody asked you. I try to move my ankle, just a bit and feel a sharp pain jolt through me. Yup… that’s a fucking thing now. Groaning in the otherwise empty room, I’m joined by and harmonize with a groan from the absolute pit of my stomach.

Yeah, I’m hungry, I’m aware. That’s what got me into this mess to begin with.

That and being a world-class asshole again.

Looking to the side, I see a small stack of biscuits. Without a second thought, I scarf them all down, not bothering to even taste them as I indulge in my first meal today. Once the small pile of bread is gone, I regain the sense of self to ask, “Where did those even come from?”

“From the kid who brought you in, dear.” I hear, eyes going wide as I examine the seemingly empty room around me. “Oh, up here!” My eyes slowly crawl up the wall to the ceiling, where an older woman wearing scrubs is adhered to the ceiling by a set of smooth spider legs. “Glad to see you nice and rested. Though I’m afraid that ankle’s going to be a problem for a little while.” Descending slowly to the floor on a silk thread I consciously don’t ponder the origin of, the spider-nurse takes a close look at my injured joint. “The swelling has gone down. That’s nice to see. You’re still going to need to mostly keep off it, and wear a brace, at least for a bit.”

A groan escapes my throat. That brace is going to look mighty fine, and mighty inviting to the people I’ve antagonized over the years… Shit. The nurse must notice my inner turmoil as she smiles at me in a consolatory manner. “Well, at least you can ask your friend for help if need be. He seemed nice.”

Yeah, I don’t care how nice a person that guy… W, was it? I don’t care how fucking saintly he could be, helping someone who tried to rob you doesn’t strike me as something a lot of people are keen to do, especially more than once. Besides, I don’t want to rely on anyone else. I’m not weak.

Says the weak little shithead that got herself hurt.

I make it a habit to argue against the lingering echoes of her voice in my head, to not let her have power over me anymore, but even I have to admit she has a point this time.

Despite myself, I can’t help but think about our brief exchange outside of the nurse’s room, and the scattered errant crumbs still present on the table where I found my lunch. It would be nice to have a friend like him. Just another fuckup to regret, I guess.

*** Present Day

“Phoebe! Get out of the bathroom, now!” A sharp pound on the door elicits the usual squeak of panic I’ve become accustomed to on mornings following Phoebe’s late-night draw-a-thons. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that she’s enjoying herself with the pencils and crayons we found on clearance last week, but now I have to play warden at night, catching her using a flashlight under her covers to keep doodling away even into the wee hours of the morning. “If you’re not out in five minutes, I’m hiding your colors!”

Obviously hearing my threat, Phoebe can be heard scampering about in the bathroom, trying to speedrun a morning routine that she should have had ample time to accomplish. I sigh, realizing that this is just going to be the norm from now on and accepting my future of going prematurely gray.

While my sister finishes up, I throw together a breakfast of leftover canned soup and toast while also loading her bag with a bologna sandwich and an apple. Once again, the sparse selection of our cabinets leaves little in the way of choices for me… that is until I get a text.

That’s weird, nobody texts me anymore.

-Welcome to Chez Willow, home of the most edible and adequate sandwiches this side of the… whatever river is closest to us, I can never remember. Today’s specials are: 1) Ham 2) Turkey 3) Tuna or 4) Mystery!!!
(Note, previous claims of edibility do not apply to special number 4) -Willow

-What the hell are you up to? -Haley

-Ohhh, I’m sorry, but asking questions is strictly prohibited at Chez Willow, especially questions pertaining to special number 4. We don’t want to lose our food handler license in yet another ethics scandal. So, What’ll it be: 1,2,3, or 4?
(Note, Really, I can’t stress this enough, don’t pick 4) -Willow

-4 -Haley

-Sigh You were warned. See you at school. Also, bit of a surprise for you beyond just lunch too, so don’t be too shocked, okay? -Willow

Losing myself in the exchange for longer than I planned, I fail to notice that Phoebe is fully dressed and ready for the day by the time I snap out of my pleasant daze. “Mommy is blushy!” Chides Phoebe with a shit-eating grin too advanced for her current grade level.

“No, she’s not!” I respond, knowing all the while that the heat spread across my face is growing by the second. My eyes dart to the clock and– FUCK ME! Once again, I scoop up a still giggling Phoebe and her belongings before making the all too familiar sprint to the bus stop. I don’t know what it says about me, or my (in)ability to properly handle Phoebe, that the bus driver seems to expect me to pass my sister off like a baton every morning, but at least the guy behind the wheel just pleasantly waves as he opens the door for her.

With a hug, Phoebe happily yells, “I love you, Mommy! Good luck being in loooooooove!” Somehow stretching a single syllable into a dozen, before jumping onto the departing bus and leaving me dumbstruck on the side of the road. Yeah, leave it to a kid to horribly misunderstand the complexity of grown-up emotion like that… that’s it, no more Disney movies for a month.

***

Any reasonable person knows to ignore the thoughtless words of a teasing child. That kind of wisdom is so obvious it should go without saying…

So tell me why I keep coming back to Phoebe’s words as I make my way to school? Just to be clear, I know I’m not in love, I’ve known Willow for two weeks! I’m not some horrible YA book protagonist that falls in love in three paragraphs to incredibly self-indulgent, saccharine prose that’d make the author’s middle school teachers cringe with regret for passing them. However, there is a chance… a SLIM chance, that maybe… MAYBE I have a crush on her.

There’s no way she can ever find out. She’s my friend. She’s my only friend. Hell, maybe it’s not a crush, maybe I’m just placing all of my pent-up wanting to have a friend on her and somehow I’ve gotten a wire crossed somewhere. That’d make a lot more sense, actually. Yeah, it’s not a crush, she’s just my new, kinda sweet, charming, and kind friend.

Huh, when did I get to school? As I exit what can only be described as a fugue state of self-reflection, I find myself in the familiar, fluorescent halls of my school. Yup, still hate this place with a passion. Before I can consciously start navigating my way to first period, I feel someone tapping on my shoulder.

With a smile, I turn around to face Willow, the only person who would even bother associating with me here– Who the fuck is this!?

Standing in front of me is a girl.

Standing in front of me is a cute girl.

Standing before me is a goddamn gorgeous girl!

Fifty mental revisions later, I settle on… hot damn!

“... Hi…” I say, ever the fancy wordy type. Was this girl new? Has nobody warned her about the mean, scary demon lady that’s to be avoided at all costs?

“Hello!” She cheerfully replies with a flourishing wave. Honestly, am I being punk’d right now? Nearly two years with rarely a word shared with anybody beyond spiteful, confrontational exchanges… and now, pleasantries? From an adorable bunny girl? “What’s wrong? Don’t recognize me?”

Shaking my head slowly, still cautiously waiting for the punchline here, I murmur, “No… can’t say I do…”

The girl in front of me pouts in an altogether unserious way, half smiling while pretending to be upset. “Well, damn, you don’t see a girl for a couple days and suddenly she’s a stranger, huh?” 'Huh', is right! What the fuck is she saying? “And to think, I was kind enough to make you lunch… albeit not a great lunch, I did warn you not to choose four!” Make lunch? Choose four? Wha–

I feel like an anvil branded with a giant “you’re a dipshit” across the side has been dropped on my head. My eyes go unnaturally wide and I’m afraid my jaw might dislocate with how quickly it drops from its usual position. “W– Willow? That you?”

“That me!” She declares, chuckling to herself in a way that’s altogether familiar… but still new given the fresh features staring back at me. Her hair, her eyes, her… nope, eyes, you do not have permission to wander lower than her chin right now! But damn, even her chin–

Oh.

Shit.

I do have a crush on her. What the hell is wrong with me!?

“Earth to Haley!” I hear as Willow waves her hand in front of my face. “I haven’t completely lost you, have I?” Shaking my head, no doubt with an idiotic expression on my face, I make some kind of noise to show that I’m still conscious. “Good… because there’s something I need to ask you.”

“What… what’s that?” I ask, still floundering to find my footing in this conversation.

Willow seems to take a second to collect herself, or maybe to decide whether or not she really wants to ask her question. This hesitation makes me nervous as all hell about what this could mean. Dozens of possibilities twist through my mind, rarely any good, until– “Haley… What happened… between you and–”

Saved by the Bell has never been anything but an overused expression or the name of a pretty mid 90’s sitcom to me… but never has the shrill screech of our system’s PA system sounded so sweet. I know what she’s going to ask. I don’t know how she knows to ask this. The timing, her coming to school like this, it’s all too perfect. I… I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer her but– For the time being, it’s not a problem.

Crestfallen, Willow looks up at the nearest speaker with annoyed disbelief, her ears flopping behind her head in an altogether adorable way. “... Shit!” She curses, turning to me with a disappointed expression. “To be continued… during lunch? Meet on the rooftop. Your unappetizing meal and your incredibly cute companion will be waiting for you, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, of course!” Even if I know this will go terribly, how can I say no? Best to rip this particular bandaid off before things get even worse down the line. “I’ll be there… and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

With a soft smile, Willow bounces off to her class, leaving me in the hallway, to enjoy the last fleeting moments I’ll ever see her look at me with kindness. I was going to have to tell her about what happened with me and Libby… what I did to Arnie…

Fuck.

***

After two whole periods with an attention span severely hamstrung by today’s earlier happenings, the lunch bell finally tolls. Why does this sound so foreboding today… almost like boss music. I pick up my bag and slowly… incredibly slowly… make my way to the roof. Before I can start walking up the final set of stairs to my doom, I feel a familiar tapping on my shoulder. Guess it makes sense, we are both heading toward the same destination after all.

With a forced smile, I turn around to face Willow, the only person who would have any reason to stop me here– “What the hell are you doing here!?” I yell in surprise at the wolf man standing before me.

“What? Expecting someone else?” He replies, a strong, visceral hatred present in his eyes and voice. “Sorry, I know I’m not as cute as the little rabbit.”

“I’m so not in the mood for a fight right now, Arnie."

“Good. Neither am I.” Yeah? Tell that to your face!

Backing up slightly, I lean against a wall with my arms crossed. “What, then? What’s so important that you have to bother me now, of all times?”

Not backing down an inch, Arnie rubs his temples. “I… I wanted to talk… to you.” Yeah, I was born on a day, but it wasn’t yesterday. What could this guy possibly– “Willow… I saw you with her earlier. The way you looked at her… the way you treated her. You–” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “It’s obvious you don’t have a problem with her, with who she is. So… why? Why did you… Back then, why couldn’t you just leave me alone?”

I had expected a question about this very event, but I never expected it to come from this particular source. True to hi– their word, the wolf isn’t making any movements that suggest this will get violent. In fact, they… seem hurt. Legitimately hurt. The instinct to be defensive, to justify my actions and claim no fault bubbles up in me. I recognize the ichorous swamp of denial right away.

How was it wrong? You were strong, he was weak. Still is weak by the looks of it. It’s just nature, you didn’t agree with him, you won. Simple.

Exhaling through gritted teeth, I decide that I’ve had enough. If anybody deserves the truth, it’s Arnie. “I did what I did… because though not a perfect metaphor, your situation reminded me of my own. There was a part of me… a vile, jealous part of me, that resented you for still being able to fix your own lot in life.”

My words stoke the fires of rage that Arnie had thus far contained as they roar. “Well, congratu-fucking-lations! You certainly solved that problem! Now I get to be just as broken and miserable as you!”

Their comment makes me wince. I know I deserve this. Every single part of me wants to argue, or fight, or do something to get back at them for making me feel this way… but they deserve to let out their anger. So I take a calming breath, and look them in the eyes. “I… I’m sorry–”

“You can fuck right off with that shit! I didn’t come here for some half-hearted apology, and I certainly have NO intention of forgiving you!” The wolf’s voice is still raised as they slowly regain control of their breathing.

I wait for a moment for the tension to dissipate slightly. “Then… why are you here? Just to ask me why? Just to yell at me? To vent your frustration? I– I can’t do anything for you… even if I wish I could.”

With a smile far too sinister for my liking, Arnie finally snaps out of their rage. “Oh… but you can do something for me. See, I need a favor, and who better to make a deal with than the devil herself?”