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((Rachael Langdon continued from Torn Jeans and Prom Queens))

That brief moment back at the party two weeks prior had been the conceiving of a new idea. It haunted Rachael up to now, even. She briefly let her mind run away with her, head turning on the axis of heels.

Rhiannon would seek purchase on a winding path leading downward, into the foreboding and cavernous depths of her school. Before her a dank, wretched atmosphere like one might expect of bowels. They had come in drips and droplets. Then surging tides. Things long buried, long forgotten, longer still feared but only in the most childish and instinctive lobes of the mortal mind. It had only been days ago that she'd been an ordinary girl in an ordinary school and now she was something she had to be despite not wanting to be it at all...

Rachael wasn't convinced, but she could let the idea percolate. She'd been able to recycle an old character concept from a fantasy novel she'd abandoned quarter-finished last year so she supposed that was pretty good. Furthermore it was something tonally different from what she normally liked to work with: a more modern as opposed to high fantasy setting. Rachael found doing the research for more realistic settings was harder than just letting her imagination run wild, but so far it seemed just as satisfying when all was said and done.

She returned to reality, and let her head droop to earth a bit as she shuffled on through the cafeteria, unassuming brown sack clasped by two hands shrugging in front of her.

Her eyes scanned with quick and mousy snaps, to and fro, she couldn't recognize any familiar faces. No Daniel... no Johnny... no Kitty... no Eris... no Jasmine. Maybe they were still in their classes and would show up in a bit? Rachael figured she could linger, pathing herself around so she produced the incessant contrails of a buzzing fly. Or maybe sit at an unoccupied table until someone familiar showed

Like Felicia. Maybe in the realm of a close friend, Miss LaChapelle one of the kindest souls Rachael had the fortune of knowing and orbiting around. Rachael could have imagined her friend in a past life as a gallant and noble knight, the figure to match myths and legends.

Felicia had set pen to paper, briefly. After that she seemed to be busy, concentrating. That could have meant well anything from homework to creative pursuits to keeping a hit list, but the last was weirdly specific and thoroughly out of character and Rachael didn't know why that particular option had blossomed into her thoughts. And the remainder two and anything else Felicia was potentially doing were serious pursuits! Rachael didn't want to up and bother an actively engaged friend without reason, she was quite nervous to come off as rude or ill-intentioned.

So time passed as Rachael lingered nearby, in the aisle between the table and another, trying to keep her eyes hovering right in that sweet spot somewhere over Felicia's shoulder where Felicia would know Rachael was looking at her if she happened to see. But it was fine if she didn't, Rachael posited. She could always take the unspoken and ungestured and unconscious hint and move on.
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It's An Inky Dinky Doo Da Lunchtime · P.J. Hobbs Senior High School
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