When the bell rings at the end of the day, I'm still in a daze. Images of the open door and possible explanations fly through my mind at break-neck velocities. Maybe there was a draft and the door had opened by itself. Maybe my mom had wanted to do some more snooping and hadn't shut the door properly.

I gather my bag, scurrying from my seat and towards the door, one last possibility sending a shiver down my spine.

Maybe I opened it.

Images from my dreams last night come to the forefront of my mind and I resist another shudder. What if they hadn't been dreams at all? What if I'd somehow opened my father's door in search of that strange book?

I'm so lost in the jungle of my mind that I don't notice Nick and Jase standing outside my classroom door. Nick has to grab the handle at the top of my backpack and therefore yank me to a halt before I snap out of my reverie.

"Careful, Stel," Nick chides, eyeing my impishly. "Any further and you would have barreled straight into Brickman's mosh pit."

Still fuzzy, I blink and look over to where I would have ended up. Sure enough, Trent Brickman and his posse of linebackers are busying shoving each other around, laughing and hollering as they do. The sight is jarring enough to my cynical brain that when I return my attention to Nick and Jase, it's with a playful disposition.

"I might have to owe you one there, Nick," I say as we start down the hall.

"Might?" Nick asks. I pin him with a look and he laughs. "Alright, easy there, birthday girl."

I roll my eyes and glance to Jase, whose eyes are glued to his phone. When he catches me looking, he clears his throat and stuffs his phone away, but not before I see 'DAD' at the top of his conversation log.

"Real subtle." I nudge him gently. "What's going on?"

Jase drags a hand through his fiery hair. "Just family stuff." He gives me a knowing look and I nod.

The Vales are practically royalty around Willow's Crest. They've been around for nearly as long as the town itself, so everyone either knows these Vales or some other Vale from once upon a time ago. One of Jase's favorite things to do when he's procrastinating his music is looking into his family history and seeing just what kind of legacy they've left for him.

The only thing is that legacy is only fun for the family trees and the occasional random fact whenever relevant. Any other time, it's a burden to Jase. Especially when his father tries to mold him into the next historic Vale, potential town board member and/or mayor of Willow's Crest.

"He'll lay off you soon," I tell him. "Harvest Festival season always gets him like this."

"Yeah, it's just..." Jase begins, trailing off as he blows out a heavy breath.

"Obnoxious?" Nick quips without missing a beat.

"Taxing?" I offer.

The ghost of a smile tugs at Jase's lips. "All of the above."

The three of us laugh as we head out the front doors of Blackburn High School and into the rattling frenzy of fallen leaves suddenly swept up by the crisp autumn air. We start down the sidewalk leading towards the senior parking lot.

"So, Stel, what's the plan for tonight?" Nick asks, slinging an arm across my shoulders.

I shoot him a look. "What plan?"

Nick smirks, and I roll my eyes. Each year, without fail, Nick asks me what the plan for my birthday is, I ask what he means, and he demands a formal invitation to my birthday dinner at Cliff's as if he's been invited to the Met Gala instead. It's stupid, but that's Nick.

So, I twirl out from Nick's half-embrace until I'm walking backwards, facing him and Jase, who knows this dance as well as Nick and I do. I throw my arms out to my sides and then sweep into a low curtsy, bringing the boys to a stop.

"Oh, Dominic Williams, will you do me the honor of attending my eighteenth birthday dinner at the most finest of Northeastern culinary establishment's, Cliff's Bistro?" I say, batting my eyelashes.

"Hm, I'll have to see." Nick feigns a thinking position. He snaps in front of Jase's face, forcing him to open his eyes wide. "Jase, am I busy tonight?"

"Don't rope me into your theatrics," Jase retorts without looking.

Nick looks back to me, elation in his eyes. "You're in luck, Stel. I'm free!"

I straighten up and we continue down to the parking lot.

"Someone should give you both an Oscar," Jase drawls, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I wouldn't be opposed." Nick glances at me. "Besides, Stella's great acting has been exhibited before."

I give him a warning look. "Nick--"

"Like every time she claims ghosts are real."

I hang my head with a defeated sigh. There it is. Nick's skeptic quota for the day has been filled.

I open my mouth to fire back a remark, but I don't get the chance, because as I start to turn back around to face him, I don't register Lyla Martin, who is right in my line of fire. We collide, and the books she's holding clatter to the ground, snapping my back to reality.

"Oh my god!" I exclaim, bending down to help her. "Lyla, I am so sorry!"

Lyla shakes her head. "Oh, no, you're fine! It was bound to happen at some point with all of these books."

That doesn't exactly make me feel better, but I just smile awkwardly and gather the rest of her books. That's when I spot an ink black book, sprawled on the blacktop, and it feels like I've been hit between the eyes.

--darkness begins leaking from the book itself, as if the ink is running right off the parchment. It's just pooling on the worn hardwood like blood--

Lyla picks up the book, snapping me out of my nightmare.

I blink rapidly as if to wipe the images from my dream out of my conscious. Only problem is they're branded into my mind. "W-what book is that?"

Lyla furrows her eyebrows, then her gaze lands on the black book and she laughs. She pushes aside the textbook cover, and I see our AP Euro textbook. "I was getting tired of looking at Winston Churchill's face."

I nod, trying for a casual laugh, but it just sounds odd and strangled. I straighten up, clearing my throat. "Right, well, sorry again, Lyla."

Lyla waves me off, a smile on her face. "Don't worry about it!" She starts to head off, then turns back around. "Oh, and happy birthday, Stella!" Then she heads off deeper into the parking lot.

Jase edges into my line of sight, compelling me to look at him. He's eyeing me the way he did at Hope Cemetery earlier this week, and I resist the urge to squirm.

"Stella, are you all right?"

"Yeah, what was that?" Nick asks. Concern is etched into his face as he joins Jase before me.

My gaze darts between my two best friends and I start to feel like a deer in headlights.

"Don't worry about it," I say, readjusting the straps of my backpack. "Let's just go."

Nick and Jase share a look, but I shoulder past them towards Nick's car, leaving them in the dust. They hurry after me, but if they're still concerned when we head out of the parking lot, they don't show it. Or at least, they don't let me see.

-<>-

Later that afternoon, when I'm staring at my reflection as I finish getting ready for my birthday dinner, the curiosity is at an all time high. I'm finally home, so I can finally confirm for myself if my dad's door was really open--and if it was, why--or if it was just a result of a poorly-slept night. My mom and Evie are still out, so I have the house to myself.

I shake my head to myself, blowing out a breath like Jase had earlier. "Stella, you're going crazy."

Part of me expected my reflection to start talking back to me, and frankly, I'm only a little upset that it didn't. I roll my eyes to myself and snatch a few bobby pins from my vanity, sticking half of them between my thinly-pressed lips and the weaving the others through my hair.

You just had a bad dream.

You're just paranoid.

Stop making something out of nothing.

I huff a breath past the remaining bobby pins between my lips. I grab them, my motions swift and calculated as if they'll slash away my worries, and jab them into place in my hair.

What if there is something?

I chew on my lip and tap my phone. It's just past five, and Mom and Evie won't be home until six...

As if fed up with myself, I grab my phone from my vanity and hurry out of my room and down the staircase.

The door's shut.

Something very strange happens inside of me at the sight. My heart stops as if its been frozen, and then starts beating faster.

The door's shut. It's supposed to be shut. Everything's fine.

My eyes still locked on the doorknob, I release a shaky breath. Maybe I did just imagine it. Maybe it was just some trick of the ley line, causing me to see things that weren't really there.

My phone rings at the worst possible moment and I yelp, immediately clapping my hand to my mouth as if to muffle the sound. I glance between the door and my phone, where Nick's contact picture is piercing the shadowy foyer, and then pad away to the kitchen before I answer his call.

"What?" I say into the receiver.

"Woah, why so harsh?" Nick asks.

I lean against the counter, blowing out a sigh. "Your call just startled me. What's up?"

"Well, how would you," Nick drawls, and I can hear the smile in his voice, "like to go to a party tonight?"

I scoff. "What, my birthday dinner isn't enough for you?" The sarcasm's just left my mouth when I realize what party he must be talking about. I freeze. "Nick, you're not referring to Clay's forest party are you?"

"That would be exactly what I'm referring to," Nick says smugly.

"Are you feeling well? Is Jase there? Tell Jase to check your temperature, I think you're--"

"I'm not sick, Stel, chill. I just think we should see what's going on."

I'm silent for a moment, remembering all of the news stories from years of rowdy teenagers being pulled from the forest on stretchers after parties just like these. It's always felt so...detached from my life, even though it always happens just miles into the forest in my own backyard.

I turn around, peering out the kitchen window to the treeline at the edge of our yard. Whether it's the ley line at work or just a strong breeze, the branches of the trees shake and rattle, both scaring me away and luring me closer. That's the thing about fear: it plays to our primordial instincts, so even the strongest can fall victim to its sinful caresses.

"Stella?" Nick's voice brings me back to the present. "You in or not?"

"I think I have to be in," I say airily. "Jase would never forgive me if I tasked him with being your babysitter."

"I wouldn't!" I hear Jase chime in the background.

I shake my head, a laugh on my lips as I leave the kitchen. I walk a little faster to the front door, slipping into my shoes as if something will walk out of my father's study at any second.

"I take it you'll be here to pick me up in a few?" I ask, already prepared to wait for Nick outside.

 "No need," Nick says.

I swing open my front door.

Nick's standing on my front porch, a devilish smile on his face. Jase is leaning against one of the portico columns. Both of them have impish looks in their eyes and dapper clothes on their frames. 

"We're already here."