Lightning lit the bedroom like broad daylight and Annie Hampton pulled the covers over her head. Thunder cracked so hard it made the windows shake. She thought of the game she would play when she was little where she imagined an axe murderer hovering over her bed. If she was completely covered she was o.k., but if even a hair came out from under the blankets he would chop it off. Somehow there was a sense of security. As long as she was under the covers she was safe. Eventually it would be stifling hot and she would dare to emerge nearly panting and relish the fresh air. “He’s gone and I’m safe,” she would think and finally she could sleep.

The axe murderer game was something Annie would never ever tell anyone else. People already thought she was a little weird. Annie was quiet and reserved around most people and most people were uncomfortable with that, especially in middle school where everything was about popularity and showing off. Annie knew that people talked about her but she didn’t really care that much. She liked what she liked. 

Annie had always been drawn to scary books and movies, anything that kept her on edge and got her adrenaline going. There was one a summer she was into retro slasher movies but that didn’t last long. Too grisly and too predictable. There wasn’t much interesting about a guy that’s on a killing spree and dumb screaming teenagers who were too busy hooking up to notice all their friends were getting killed.

No, that wasn’t for Annie. She liked ghosts. She liked the eerie and spooky, the thought of something lingering, restless souls. Annie hadn’t known anyone who died yet. All of her relatives were still around. She thought herself lucky that way because her best friend Zelda’s favorite Grandma had died the summer before. 

Zelda had tried and tried, wished and hoped that she would see her Grandma’s ghost. Her dad’s family was from Trinidad and her Grandma would tell her all kinds of superstitions and Zelda loved those stories. Zelda’s dad told her they were just that, stories, but Zelda hoped. Annie felt bad for her but never told her she thought it was a dumb idea in the first place. You needed more than to close your eyes and wish for something like that to happen. You needed a real way to connect.

That’s why she was excited at first when Zelda suggested the day after the storm that they should hold a seance. They were walking to school like always, Zelda talking quickly and breathlessly and Annie trying to catch up after a semi sleepless night. Zelda had gotten the idea from a book about a ouija board she had just finished reading.

“It’s totally fine.” Zelda tried to reassure her. “My cousin tried it and nothing happened. It’s just for fun. Let’s do it!”

Annie had read enough “true life” stories about shadow figures and spirits following people home to be skeptical even if she was curious. It was one thing to read and hear about it, another to mess around with a ouija board. This was another one of  Zelda’s over the top ideas.

“I don’t know Zelda. Where would we do it?” Annie protested feebly. For all her thoughts about Zelda not knowing what she was doing, Annie was suddenly nervous. She didn’t like having people over to her house for one thing. Her house wasn’t warm and inviting like Zelda’s. Zelda’s parents were always happy to see her and treated her like family. Annie’s parents were preoccupied with work and didn’t have much time for Annie, let alone any of her friends.  

Zelda had an answer for that. “My brother is going out of town this weekend to a concert. We could go down in the basement.” 

Zelda’s brother Ben was ten years older. Her parents liked to call her an “oopsy baby” because they thought they’d just have her brother and that was it. Then Zelda came along and blew that plan. Her parents liked to joke about it. Annie thought it must hurt Zelda’s feelings though Zelda would never admit it. Zelda’s brother moved to their basement after he graduated from college. Her parents, who were usually pretty relaxed about stuff, were stressed about it and nagged him a lot about getting a job. Despite the tension though, Zelda was happy to have her brother home. Even with their age difference they were close.

“Do you think he’d care? Aren’t you gonna ask him if he wants a ouija board in his room with a bunch of girls?”

“It wouldn’t be a bunch of girls, just me and you and Claire.” Claire Clemett was their other best friend. She hadn’t known them as long as Annie and Zelda had known each other. Annie and Zelda had met in kindergarten. Claire moved to town two years ago when they were in sixth grade. Claire was funny and kind and came off a little ditzy but under her spacey demeanor she was sharp and quick witted. Annie and Zelda liked her immediately when she wandered into their first middle school class ten minutes late looking like she didn’t even notice everyone staring at her. She just sat down and spread her stuff all around like she’d been there forever. Her white blond hair was a little messy and her clothes were the same. She had icy blue eyes that were piercing and seemed cold until you got to know her, and then they felt sweet and inviting. The friendly feeling was mutual thankfully and now they were inseparable. So, it was natural for Zelda to just assume Claire would go along with her plan even without asking.

“Just you and Claire what?” Claire sidled up and joined them just then. They had arrived at school and the bustling of kids and backpacks and chaos surrounded them .

“We’re going to have a seance with a ouija board in my brother’s basement.”

“No way. That’s so dangerous!” Both girls looked at Claire. It wasn’t like her to not be up for stuff. “You don’t know what you’re contacting!” 

Claire’s mom identified as a Wiccan and so Claire sometimes had some different ideas. Claire and her mom were all about being different. For example, her mom insisted on being called by her first name, Rachel, even though the other moms preferred “Mrs. So and So.” She always brought vegan things to school parties and talked about things like burning sage to get rid of bad energy. She wouldn’t let Clarie have a smartphone because “social media rots the brain.” The other moms treated her like she was strange and stayed away from her. Rachel was always kind to Annie and Zelda and they felt protective over her and Claire. Luckily Claire was so likeable and sweet the other kids generally left her alone even if they thought her mom was weird.

 “That’s kind of what I said,” Annie offered.

“Oh come on you guys. You’re being boring. It’s just for fun. You’ll like it. We can ask about Jake.” Zelda knew this was the way to get Claire in. She had a thing for Jake Bishop and would do anything that allowed her to go through her endless “Do you think he likes me?” debate.

Claire looked at both of them and shook her head, but then said, “You’re right. It’s not gonna work anyway. We might as well play around.”

“That’s right!” Zelda resounded, dismissing Annie’s furrowed brow. “We’ll do it Friday then!” and off she traipsed to her first period class leaving Claire and Annie to look after her.

Annie and Claire had their first hour together, Home Economics. It was such an outdated subject for a class, how to do your laundry, how to sew a pillowcase, stuff like that. Annie had been doing her laundry since she could touch the knobs. It was one less thing for her mom to have to pay attention to. So, she thought she was as home ec’d as she needed to be. But, there they were for a whole semester. 

The room hadn’t changed since the 80’s and there were textbooks that were just as old with pictures of “modern” women with shoulder pads or headbands on going about their very important business of household maintenance. Their teacher, Mrs. Smith had been there from the beginning of time. She had the curriculum memorized and for someone who had done the same lessons a million times, she still had a passion for conserving flour and the correct order in which to wash dishes. Mrs. Smith was always sweet and patient though with her less than enthusiastic students.  They were graded on participation which was fine and easy but Annie felt like it was a waste of time.

She’d rather be in English class. In English she got lost in stories, hung on her teacher’s every word and couldn’t wait to see what Mrs. Huber had to say about her latest essay. Zelda teased Annie that she was a brown noser but Annie didn’t care. She loved that class and all the ideas and possibilities in it. Annie hoped that one day she could be a writer but she didn’t tell Zelda that. She didn’t want Zelda to become weirdly competitive about it. She loved Zelda but there were times when she would take up what Annie liked and try to make it like it was her idea and beat her at it. Soccer in third grade, piano in fourth, archery in 7th grade p.e. No, writing was too important to her to share.

Claire didn’t mind Home Ec. because Jake was there. She spent the hour trying to not make it obvious that she was staring at him and blushed anytime he was within earshot. Claire was so obsessed with him it was a miracle that he appeared clueless about the whole thing. 

Annie didn’t know what Claire saw in him. Sure, he was good looking, but he was really stuck up and hung out with guys that were equally stuck up. They thought they were the ones that everyone wanted to be like because their parents were part of what Annie thought of as the town doctor clique. They were surgeons and obstetricians, people with high status jobs that made lots of money. They thought they were above everyone else and so did their kids. It was no wonder Jake didn’t know Claire was so into him when he was only into himself. 

Annie felt herself come back to reality when Mrs. Smith asked her, “Dear, I asked, what do you do if your recipe calls for three quarters of a cup and you want to double it?” She looked genuinely concerned that Annie wasn’t with her on this. Did she really think that they couldn't figure this out on their own? Annie heard Jake behind her false whisper, “You buy cookies at the store ” and she turned and glared at him.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Smith. You use a cup and a half, or if you don’t know fractions you just do whatever the measurement is and do it twice.” Again she glared at Jake but he didn’t seem to get that she was implying he couldn’t do math.

“Thank you dear.” Mrs. Smith moved on to the next unsuspecting day dreamer and Annie started to write a bit in her English journal while Claire drew hearts on her paper, undoubtedly thinking of Jake.

When the bell to let out rang Annie couldn’t gather her things fast enough. If she hurried, she could make it to English in time to talk to Mrs. Huber before class started. She had turned in her essay about Anne Frank early to see if she had some feedback for her before it was due. Annie desperately wanted Mrs. Huber to know she wasn’t shallow like some of the other kids that yawned and complained they had to read such “old” and “boring” diary entries from some girl who died forever ago. To her, Anne Frank was everything she wanted to be, a writer, a thinker, a wise soul even for her young years.

She found her seat next to Zelda and started to settle. Mrs. Huber was talking to another student and there were more waiting so she had missed her chance to talk to her about her essay. Zelda turned to her immediately.

“So, come to my house around 7:00. Tell your mom you’re sleeping over for the weekend. I’ll tell my parents that we have some project to do and need room in the basement and that Ben doesn’t care.” Zelda could be bossy but Annie was used to it. She knew Zelda liked to be in charge and it was o.k. with Annie to let her think she was even though sometimes she felt diminished. Zelda felt larger than life to Annie. She was vibrant and outgoing and radiated confidence, all things Annie wished she was. She rarely admitted to herself that Zelda could be overbearing and controlling. It was hard to think badly about her best friend. It had been so long, how could she change?

The other kids were filing in and Mrs. Huber was about to start class. Zelda leaned over to say, “Oh and bring some parchment paper.” Annie didn’t have a chance to ask for what before class began.