The New Girl

It was only when I reached the eleventh grade homeroom did I realise that something was wrong.

It should have struck me when I entered the second floor corridor. It should have struck a chord in my head when Lydia became all weird a while back. Oh no. It was only when I entered my homeroom did I realise how quiet everything was.

Sure, the school was as noisy as it had always been every morning that I was there. But, I realised, that was only till the first floor. There was not a soul on the second floor, where senior classes are held. Even my homeroom was empty.

I frowned in confusion. That was when I felt somebody poking my arm. I looked down to see Lydia behind me. Behind her was the new girl.

"I just remembered," said the weirdo, her voice very, very small, "That Laura Lucia died."

"Who?" I seriously had no clue who she was talking about.

"The ninth grader who used to be an all-rounder of the high school?" she said, in a hope of jogging my memory. See, the thing was, there was not any to recall. She must have realised this, for she face-palmed. "Great, Frank, this is just great," she remarked sarcastically. "She was the best girl in the campus – she even got the Best High School Student award last year! – and yesterday, she was found dead in her own classroom!"

I glanced at Elisa as her eyes darted nervously between Lydia and me.

"Well," I told Lydia, "I'm sure that's true, but you're scaring Elisa. She's new here, you know."

"Yeah, you told me."

Elisa's eyes widened in surprise.

"Who told you, Lydia?" I asked my friend.

"Laura Lucia," she responded.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "What did I tell you about shutting your mouth in front of new students?" I hissed at her.

She at once raised her hands as a shield in front of her. "No, no! I really did! You told me there was a new girl in room 213 – where Laura Lucia died. So, I had to make sure, she was OK! What if the killer who did the deed struck again!? After all, it happened less than two days ago!"

"I thought you said she died yesterday."

"No, her body was found yesterday. She might have died the day before!"

"All right. Still, you could have been hurt, you know."

"The new girl doesn't know that!" Lydia pointed at Elisa.

I sighed. "Now that nobody's here, what do we do?"

Like angels in disguise, I spotted Jessica and Mark making their way towards us from the stairway.

"We need to move to the quadrangle for the mourning," panted Jessica.

"Yeah, we've just been told so," added Mark, equally tired.

Both of them were part of the Student Council and so, had direct connection with the highest authority of the administration.

I nodded. "All right." I turned to Elisa Mary. "Follow us."

"I say, who are you?" asked Jessica from behind me. Obviously it was directed at the new girl.

"Hi, I'm Elisa Mary Vincent. I'm new here, as you might realise."

"Yes, I get that. Well, I'm sorry your first day here turned out to be in mourning, but they found the body of one of the best students of Lucifer High in the ninth grade room."

"Yeah, so I've been told."

"We'll be at the quadrangle for an hour or so, recalling our memories of Laura Lucia – the girl whose body they found – and then return to regular classes."

"Say, who was this Laura Lucia?" Elisa Mary sounded curious, which I found rather suspicious.

"She was basically an all-rounder – excelled in everything she did. She headed the high school sports, the drama club, the musician group, and the band. She did a lot of other things, too. She was a nice person to talk to, but she always kept her personal issues to herself. I mean, whenever people asked her about her family, she'd just shrug and change the topic."

"How do you know that!?" Lydia's shrilly voice chimed in. "Did you even talk to her?!"

"'Course I did, Ly," Jessica told her. "We used to be in the same music group, remember? In fact, we were flute partners."

"Okay," said Elisa Mary. "She seems to have been a decent person."

"That's exactly what I was thinking," Jessica commented. "So, how did you come to be here?"

"I just came into the town with my family."

"That's nice to hear."

I glanced back. "Oh, and Jess? Elisa wants to know about the literary thing."

"The literary club? Of course! I know someone who's in there! I'm sure you'll be given a chance!"

"Yeah, I'm really into literature," I heard Elisa say, with a reminiscent tone of voice. "It's what my grandmother wants me to do, too. She was a poet in her day."

"Really?! What's her name?"

"Lily."

"Lily of the West! I love her poems! She even published a few books, didn't she!?"

"That she did. All thanks to my grandpa."

That was the exact moment when we reached the ground floor and began making our way to the quadrangle. Many students – mostly high school and seniors were already assembled there and we joined in. On the podium stood Mr James, the Headmaster, and beside him, Miss Vivian, the school counsellor. They looked rather solemn, making me recall Jessica's words about Laura Lucia, the girl who was found dead the previous day.

The next thirty minutes went on with Mr James and Miss Vivian taking turns talking about the deceased student, along with the co-manager of the drama club (I forget her name) and some of Jessica's friends who knew Laura Lucia on a personal level. Apparently, she was a very talented person (nope, I do not doubt Jessica's words), who was a topper in everything she did-ranging from sports to studies.

The rest of the talk droned into background music as my head began to be overcome with thoughts of my own. 'Why would anybody want someone like her dead?' I wondered. It made no sense to me. I mean, sure I did not know her personally and all, but she did not sound so bad. Or maybe, that was because people knew only that side of her that she wanted to show them. I was more than familiar with this kind of thing.

My mind was still wrapped up in such thoughts as I found myself following my friends back into the school building. The mourning was over.

Suddenly, I had an urge – an urge to do something about the questions that were popping continuously in my mind. It was exhausting and the easier way to stop them was to actually answer them. And, to answer them, I need to find information.

'Time for some work,' I told myself.