For Nevermore Season 1

for her. She felt awful thinking like that, but couldn’t help her genuine feelings.
    The bus pulled to the curb, and Noella and Mako climbed up the stairs. As they searched for seats, hisses and whispers snaked throughout the bus.
    “Lesbos.”
    “Who let her out of the psych ward?”
    “She’s nuttier than an Almond Joy.”
    “Oh, look, Scarella crawled out of her coffin.”
    As she and Mako found a seat toward the front of the bus, pretending not to hear the venim, Noella realized she was wrong. She would much rather go to school feeling like a vagrant, with frizzy hair and a layer of filth, even being driven by Randy.
    Almost anything was better than the girls on the bus.

    **

    Noella opened her locker and pulled her Biology AP book from inside, then dropped it into her black battered book bag, which she swung over her shoulder. She slammed her locker shut, pretending she was doing so on one of the bus bitch’s heads.
    Sam appeared from behind, “You seem mad.”
    Noella looked back, surprised to see him. “Not mad,” she said, “just sadly angry.”
    “Ah, didn’t notice the distinction,” Sam said with a smile.
    His charm won over her desire to stay in a bad mood.
    Noella laughed. “Besides, I don’t do mad. I’m a happy, smiley girl. All sunshine and rainbows.”
    Sam looked at the patches adorning her backpack, skulls, broken hearts with razor blades, monsters, and other cool designs she’d gathered over the years, and arched an eyebrow and laughed.
    God, I love his smile.
    Sam said, “Do you have birthday plans for tomorrow?”
    Noella shook her head, “Not that I know of. Why?”
    “Wanna go somewhere? My treat, and I promise not to make you look at any of my drawings, either. We could do a movie and dinner. I’ll even let you drag me to that godawful chick flick that just came out.”
    “I love your drawings,” Noella said. “That’s your own insecurities. But a movie sounds awesome, and because it’s my birthday, that means you have to pick!” She tingled at the thought of even a half-date with Sam. He probably didn’t like her in the same way that she liked him, not with Becca and the rest of the gaggle fawning over him all the time.
    But what if he does?
    There probably wasn’t a better day on the calendar than her birthday to find out. If she made a fool of herself, she could at least blame it on the sappiness of her birthday or something.
    “Cool,” he said. “Do you want to leave right from school? I already asked if I can borrow the car.”
    Oh wow! He even planned in advance!
    Her heart started to flutter, and she tried to keep it from pasting a stupid smile on her face.
    “I’ll let you know. Gotta check with my aunt, make sure she didn’t plan dinner or anything. If so, we’ll have to just do the movie.”
    “Ah, gotcha,” Sam smiled, “Okay, text me and let me know tonight. I’ve gotta get to class. See ya,” he said and gave her a hug.
    He smells yummy.
    She melted in his hold, then quickly recovered, hoping nobody saw the stupid smile she couldn’t keep from her face as she turned and practically skipped to biology class.

    **

    Mr. Mahr was a vibrant teacher who paced the class and used all of his body when he talked. He made biology fun for Noella; well, as fun as any class could be.
    Yet as much as she liked science and appreciated Mr. Mahr, she was also tired. Noella only lasted a few minutes in class before her eyelids grew heavy. With no space between one moment and the next, she felt herself fall, then jolted awake, shocked to find she was no longer in Mr. Mahr’s class.
    The room was the same, but different, as if she’d woken in some future dark and decayed version of her classroom. Desks were strewn in gargantuan splinters. Dust motes floated on long slants of sunlight streaming through holes in the windows, which had been blacked out with dark brown paint, or . . . blood . And the walls and roofs were missing huge chunks, replaced by shadows and debris.
    Noella gasped, then cried out.
    Oh, God, not again.
    She hadn’t had a hallucination in more than a year, ever since Dr. Foster put her on the new pills. And she hadn’t had one in school since the incident two years ago .
    No, no, no.
    She turned, trying to find her way back to reality, trying to remember what Dr. Foster had instructed her to do when she had another episode.
    “Sit down and close your eyes. Focus on something positive. Relax.”
    She couldn’t sit down, as the