Jacob Mackenzie (Late morning of September 6, 1994)
I saw her today. The mystery girl that had kept me up at night for the last three days, I saw her. It was in homeroom when I heard the most angelic voice behind me. “Hey, Newbie, you got a pencil I can borrow?” she asked gently tapping on my shoulder.
I turned around to see the most breath-taking creature I had ever laid eyes on. Her eyes were a deep hazel and her lips had been of a plump, heart-shape. Though her long, wavy hair had been a rich shade of red, its highlights glistened rose-gold in the window’s light. I noticed that she also had a couple of daisies tucked behind her ear.
“Thanks,” she flashed a bright smile as she took the spare No.2 pencil from my hand. For a quick moment, our fingertips had touched and I nearly had a minor heart attack.
Although, it wasn’t until after class that I had found out who she was. Freehold’s welcoming committee, also known as Brian Baker, had introduced himself to me as I was trying to open up my new locker, during the passing period. Brian had been a variation of the preppy kid I’d normally avoid at school: valedictorian, high GPA, “going places” type of kid. It wasn’t as if anything was wrong with those kids, at least not in my particular experience, but we simply had too different of interests. However, I decided to befriend Brian, in hopes that I would learn more about Mystery Girl.
“I wouldn’t, man,” Brian said as soon as I had asked about her. “That’s Adeline Grace, as in Joey Grace’s daughter.”
“The serial killer?” I quickly turned away from my locker and turned all of my attention towards him.
“Yeah and something tells me that the psycho apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” he replied, shutting his own locker and heading towards his next class.
I was in complete and utter shock, walking to second period. It was difficult to accept that someone so ethereal could be the descent of someone so sinister. Although, it did put things into perspective, such as why she was at the house that day. She may have felt guilty for her father’s crimes and wanted to pay her respects. At least, that’s what I wanted to believe.
It wasn’t until lunch that I saw Adeline again. Brian and I sat down at a table at least fifteen feet from her, but I was still able to get a clear view. While she ate, she had been reading a Stephen King novel and listening to some music on her walkman. It had been clear that I was staring at her, because I felt Brian nudge me on the shoulder once or twice. I couldn’t help it, there was something about her that intrigued me. Maybe it was the fact that her ol’ man had been one of the most dangerous men in Freehold.
Suddenly, I noticed a thin, bleach blonde making her way towards Adeline’s table. Her name was Priscilla Ricci and the best way I could describe her was that stereotypical “popular girl” who always seemed to make an appearance in shitty teen movies. Her hair had been thoroughly straightened and pinned back with a bunch of multi-colored, plastic butterflies. Her overpriced outfit consisted of a tight-fitting lavender sweater and a plaid skirt to match it. Apparently, Brian has had a thing for her ever since the sixth grade. She was pretty, I’ll admit, but she was no Adeline.
“Wearing white after Labor day, are we?” I heard Priscilla ask Adeline. Clearly, she had been talking about her white Nirvana t-shirt. Rest in peace that poor Mr. Cobain. In her defense, though, it was more of an off-white, creme color.
“Pris, you do realize that rule was made by a group of high-and-mighty househags, in the 1800s, who had nothing better to do with their pathetic lives other than telling people how to dress, right?” Adeline responded, not even bothering to look up from her book. “It doesn’t actually mean shit.”
“Well, anyway,” Priscilla said, trying to mask her annoyance with a fake smile. “I just came over to let you know that the homecoming dance is in two weeks and since I’m the head of the committee, this year’s supposed to be extra special.”
“Is this your way of asking me to join the committee? If so, I’m going to have to respectfully decline,” Adeline finally made direct eye contact with Priscilla as soon as she said that.
“Dear God, no,” Priscilla chuckled. “I just wanted you to tell those freaks you always seem to surround yourself with that there will be no spiking the punch of tequila this year.”
“You’re more of a vodka kind of gal, I take it?” Adeline smirked. I tried not to smile, myself.
Priscilla, however, did not take the joke ever so lightly. I could feel the heat of her repressed rage, radiating towards mine and Brian’s table. “Just try not to get anyone drunk this time around, kapeesh?”
“You got it, Boss.”
Priscilla then huffed and puffed away, leaving me with a clear view of Adeline, once again. Only this time, she had caught me looking at her. I had attempted to look busy, but it was no use. I could still feel those alluring eyes latched on to me. When I looked back up at her, she flashed me a kind smile.
“God, what a bitch?” I heard Brian say.
“Tell me about it,” I replied, smiling back at Adeline.