Well past dark, four all too curious kids stole into their school.

"Don't be such a wimp," said a girl with blonde hair in a leather jacket to a timid-looking red-headed girl.

"You didn't believe the story, so what better way to see if it's true than to come here," snickered a boy with dark shaggy hair as he elbowed a rather annoyed looking boy with a dark hoodie on.

"Tch! Lets get this over with already," sighed the boy.

Rolling her eyes, the blonde girl turned back toward the end of the dark hall. "Come on," she said with a hint of boredom.

Oh, how did I of all people get sucked into this? The timid girl reviewed the morning in her thoughts. It had been your average Friday, everyone excited for the end of the day, the entire weekend shimmering in all its glory just ahead.

"It's totally true." The obnoxious blonde girl with a oversized pink flower clip in her hair had paraded in front of them with a scowl. "That bathroom’s been closed since the day those freshmen went missing four years ago."?

Angrily clicking her tongue, she'd given an irritated glance to all the kids she was scaring into believing that stupid myth going around about the school's bathroom. The timid girl recalled that empty feeling in her stomach as she tried to blend in with the lockers.

Suddenly someone had yanked the blonde by the shoulder. "Got a problem?" The boy with shaggy hair and a raggedy sweater, the goon, had sneered at her and everyone else.

“Not with you, punk," she'd snapped.

"No need to get angry, princess," the boy had replied casually. He'd grinned at her, a crazy-looking little grin. "Let the freshmen have their fun."

“Hey, Whats that supposed to mean?" The prissy blonde had shoved in closer, glaring at him.

He'd smiled sadly."Oh, nothing."

As he'd begun walking away, the blonde had snapped??, "Fine, if you guys don't believe the myth, then let's bust it!"

"What are you talking about?” The red-head had stammered.

“It means we're coming back to school at a-quarter-till-midnight and see if the bathroom is really haunted,” she'd grinned. "Tonight!"??

She's insane, she'd thought. No, Lydia you got us into this mess. See it through, I mean logically ghosts don't exist, do they? Lydia had tried taking slow, deep breaths.

??"Cool," exclaimed Prissy's goon. At that time, during daylight of course, Lydia had noticed, he was clearly psyched.

??Lydia remembered simply nodding and exhaling a trembling, "Sure."

"Well—" said Prissy, poking the glowering boy in the chest, "Coming?"

??He'd peered down at her from inside his dark, well-worn hoodie. "I suppose." He'd casually swatted away her finger.??

"Sweet!"

She was clearly pumped, too, recalled Lydia.

"Come on Lucas. I need you to carry my bag to class." She'd strutted away with her number one goon, Lucas in tow.

Lydia had glanced up at the boy (she could already tell was at least a year ahead of her) with a questioning gaze. As she'd walked away she felt him staring at her back. ??
***

Time to meet at the school. Lydia had checked her cell every five minutes since 3:30. Even with twenty pages of American Lit and the piles of redundant Algebra, the time seemed to crawl. Secretly she knew she was wishing for a text that would call everything off.

Prissy was in a black miniskirt, a white T-shirt, and a black leather jacket with a pink skull on the chest.

In an angry tone the red-head whispered, "We're breaking into the school, not going to a club!"

Prissy bristled. "I am Victoria Angelina Darcia Vertigrouz, daughter of Maxwell Franchez Vertigrouz and Marcia King Darcian Vertigrouz, and I break in with style!" She smiled triumphantly at the red-head. "Can't say the same for you with your boring black zippered jumpsuit." And with a wave of her hand, "Who are you?" She giggled. "Catwoman?"
??
Deciding to ignore them both, Lydia simply asked, "Where are the guys? Aren't they suppose to meet us here?"

Victoria laughed. "Who do you think drove me here?"

Lydia scowled. "Yeah, yeah. But were is he?"

"He's waiting inside for that weird kid to show up." She finished pulling her hair back into a ponytail. "Now, come on. If he's not here we go on in without him.”

??As they stole towards the entrance to the school, Lydia thought she saw someone dart inside. She glanced at Victoria. "Is anyone else here besides us and the weird guy?”

"No," Victoria whispered. "Why?"

“I thought I just saw someone run into the school.”

“That would be Lucas," Victoria said.

"Right," Lydia replied, a bit embarrassed. "Come on, lets get this over with." They walked faster. The school was different at night. Instead of bright blue, yellow, and cheerful, it had a sinister air. The yellows glowered puke green and the blues might as well be black. If she could've done it without looking like a coward Lydia would have bolted right then and there.

"Gotcha!" Lucas jumped out from behind a row of lockers. "Did I scare you?"

Victoria punched him in the chest. “Idiot,” she whispered angrily.
??
"If you guys don't want to get caught by the night guard I recommend being quiet." The kid in the hoodie stepped out of the shadows, startling all of them again, including Lucas.

"Sorry. Did I scare you?" He rubbed the back of his neck, causing his hoodie to fall down around his shoulders.

Lydia and Victoria couldn’t help but stare. He was blushing! His eyes were deep blue, his hair raven black. His skin was almost translucent, making his eyes stand out like beacons. Lydia and Victoria looked at each other, wondering why a guy this handsome would hide his face?

The boy had the hoodie up over his head again in a flash.

"Why don't you want anyone to see your face?" Lydia asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "What are you hiding?"

"I don't have anything to hide."

"If you don't, then why are you getting defensive?" Victoria chimed in.

"If you guys don't shut up now the guard will come!" Lucas hissed.

“If I tell you,” he said nervously, “You can't tell anyone.”

Victoria looked at Lydia. They both looked back at him and nodded.

He glanced over his shoulder nervously, then spoke in a whisper. "Four years ago when I was a freshmen, some of my friends decided they wanted to check out this stall in the bathroom, and every few days or so a new story would come up about how somebody heard voices in there. It was me, my friends Logan, Yonla, Trevor, and Mark. We heard some kids talking in the stall so we went inside to look. I hung back because I was spooked. Next thing I knew the stall door flies open and my friends are gone!" His voice trembled. "The next morning they found me. I kept babbling about what happened but no one would believe me, so they sent me to a special school. I ran off and came back but I can't let them know it's me or they'll send me back."

"Then why are you even here?" Lydia asked, petrified.

"I need to know what happened to my friends," he said, walking towards the bathroom, "and the only way to do that is to go where they went.”

Lydia and Victoria stood there staring after him as he walked away. Lucas grabbed Victoria, pulling her along. "Yeah, right! Like that'll happen.”

Victoria stumbled forward with Lydia, who was having second thoughts about following.
?
Suddenly a group of freshmen ran out of the bathroom, laughing.?

"Hey, are those your friends?" The senior boy must not have heard her, Lydia thought, because he didn't answer.

"Trevor!" The senior yelled as he surged forward to meet them.

"Wait!" shouted Lydia. She chased after the senior, just touching his arm before she was shoved to the ground by a strange girl with purple hair. Lucas and Victoria rushed up behind her.


“You okay, Lydia?” As they helped her up, the last thing they saw was the bathroom door ease closed, just like something out of a horror film.

The three teens cracked open the door. The bathroom was empty! Victoria stooped and picked up what looked to be a purple friendship bracelet from the floor. She looked back at Lydia and Lucas. They slowly approached the stall with the closed door. Inside, a bright green light glowed inside. Victoria cautiously cracked the door.
***

On most nights, the night guard was free to watch television inside his cubicle in the school's basement. The NBA playoffs were heating up for Miami, and his VCR was on the blink, so it was live or nothing. With the wet weather, the pipes in the north wing were popping and groaning. When he was absolutely sure he'd heard kids laughing during the last play, he decided to sacrifice the first two minutes of the fourth quarter to go check it out.

He'd thought he heard it coming from the janitor's closet. The door didn't give without some force, though; construction crews hadn't been particularly careful cleaning up after the closet and the adjacent lounge had recently been gutted. The lights weren't wired yet, so he stepped just inside the room and switched on his flashlight. Next step, something crunched under his right foot. Cockroaches. Instinctively, he jumped back. His flashlight beam steadied on a wrist watch, its face now cracked. He squat down and studied it, turning it over in his hands. It seemed to be a relatively newer model he hadn't seen before. He slipped it into his pocket; it could be easily fixed.

The only other thing amiss that he could determine was a construction sign that had fallen down from the wall. Maybe that was it, he thought. Besides, he had a game to watch. Let the crew take care of the sign. It was half-buried in sheet rock, anyway. He stepped over it on his way out: New Bathrooms Coming Soon: January 12, 1998.