I'M ALIVE! I ASSURE YOU, I AM ALIVE!!! I did not die, I promise. I kind of just...disappeared I guess?

Anyways, I am so SUPER DUPER SORRY for that freaking long unannounced hiatus! That was absolutely awful of me! DX

I feel really bad. I honestly didn't mean to take so long. A lot of junk happened, including family trips and things, and then there was some serious family business that happened and left me feeling pretty down for a while, and THEN school came back and threw lots of homework at my face. I tried to write a couple of times, but I just wasn't feeling it and I'm pretty sure most of what I wrote was rubbish.

But, now I'm back and I've got my creative juices flowing again! And they shouldn't (hopefully) be running off anywhere anytime soon! 

But I also wanted to just say, I FREAKING LOVE YOU GUYS! While I was off doing who knows what, I come back to find that my story has OVER 900 VIEWS?! WHAT?! I don't deserve you all! I never expected to get so far! Thank you all so much!

Also, I'm, again, super sorry, but I don't think I'm very great at keeping to writing schedules. ^-^' Once a week hasn't really worked out for me, because I always get hooked up in something and run out of time, and then I leave all you poor readers without an update. Then I feel super guilty for lying to you all, and it goes on and on. I honestly can't imagine how long some of you have been waiting for me to update (I'm SO sorry guys!).

So, I think I'm gonna switch it to once a month, at least. This way I can update early as a special surprise if I finish a chapter early, and I won't have to sweat it if I'm too busy one week because I'll have other weeks to write. Then, once I get the hang of this, I should hopefully be able to work up to updating once a week. I hope this works for you all. :)

Once again, thank you for being patient with me! I'm still trying to figure out how to update less sporadically, but I think I'll get the hang of it. In the mean time, what're you all doing here still? Go read the chapter you've been waiting so long for! ;)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The entire morning was a bleary blur.

Of course, that was all completely her fault because she was the one going around accepting dare offers from idiotic, jerky jocks and spending most of her night exploring an abandoned house instead of sleeping. But, hey, she was willing to gloss over that fact and take her sleepiness as an excuse to glare grumpily at everyone. Besides, it's not like she ever really was  much of cheerfully chipper person in the morning anyway. 

Mornings suck. End of discussion.

Besides, she usually stayed up late anyhow. Being a night owl/goth'll do that to a gal.

Thus, the morning all blurred together, and before she even fully took in what was going on, she realized her feet were already trudging through the front door of the school.

And, of course, that was when the bell decided to ring. A very useful thing when it comes to snapping sleepy girls out of their half-dead zombie trances. A very awful thing for students not already in their seats for first period. Sam only just happened to be both.

Jumping at the sudden blaring alarm and snapping back to attention with a start, Sam felt panic jolt through her as the awful truth dawned on her. 

She was late. On her second day. For Mr. Lancer's class, no less. 

The world must hate her guts.

"Dagnabbit."

Ignoring the school rules and sprinting down the hallway, she managed to make it only a few minutes late. Taking in a deep breath and gathering her courage, she turned the handle and entered the classroom.

She instantly regretted that. With absolutely all of her heart.

As every pair of eyes in the room turned to bore into her soul simultaneously, Sam had to fight back the urge to turn tail and book it back up the hallway from where she came. Doing her best to ignore the judgmental looks, she wished she could melt into the floor and disappear. Which, sadly, was impossible. It looked like she was on her own.

Glancing to the front of the room where Mr. Lancer stood carrying out a lecture, she waited awkwardly for him to finish and acknowledge her presence. Unfortunately, he seemed quite invested on finishing the point of what he was saying before even thinking about noticing her, so she was forced to remain standing guiltily in the doorway, one hand on the handle and hoping for a quick - and relatively merciful - death. 

It was always these kinds of moments that she hated. They always made her feel like some naughty little kid caught trying to sneak a cookie from the cookie jar. It's not like she meant to be late, though she couldn't really explain all that to a teacher like Mr. Lancer.

No, she was better off just standing in the doorway uncomfortably and taking the tardy with what dignity she could still muster. Besides, she had seen enough movies to know trying to sneak past the teacher into class never worked. Often times it just made things worse for the caught-red-handed student, and made the teacher angry. Well, in her case, angri-er. Yesterday, she and Mr. Lancer weren't exactly singing to the rooftops, and all of that probably transferred right over to today. Which was absolutely terrific, as per usual.

After a couple of minutes of the students glancing between her and Mr. Lancer, and Sam rubbing her arm anxiously and wanting to do no more than disappear through the walls and hide, Mr. Lancer finally decided to acknowledge her existence.

Without even glancing up from his Power-point lecture, he asked, "Ms. Manson, is being late or nearly late going to become a regular occurrence with you?"

Startled at finally being noticed out of the blue, Sam eloquently answered with a jumbled, "I- um, er, I dunno...sir," which absolutely made her want to slam her palm into her face, and then her face into the nearest possible poster-plastered wall. She had been trying to come up with possible answers and excuses to say for the past three minutes, and that was the best her surprised mind could come up with? She might as well throw playing it cool out the window, along with anything left of her shredded credibility!

What was worse, however, were the small muffled giggles from around the room. The other students were listening to every second of this conversation and were enjoying themselves immensely. Sam felt her face heating up and her temper slowly rising. She was beyond irritated now. Did Mr. Lancer really have to prolong this recent embarrass-the-freaking-heck-out-of-the-new-girl session? By now she might as well throw out her street credentials, too!

Plus, Dash and his gang were probably recording this. She wouldn't put it past them.

Why did certain days just have to go so far downhill?

Mr. Lancer straightened his tie and crossed his arms. "Well, go take your seat then. I expect this won't be happening again any time soon, correct?" he asked, one eyebrow cocked and his tone condescending, the very sound of it making Sam's teeth grit together.

Curling her hands into fists, Sam barely managed to growl out a harsh, "Correct." before she stormed through the desks - purposefully kicking any wayward feet out of her way - before plopping down into her seat with a quiet, outraged huff.

Mr. Lancer cleared his throat. "As I was saying, class, before I was oh so rudely interrupted, the conch shell in the Lord of the Flies is a perfect example of symbolism, as every time Ralph blows on it and the boys rush to the gathering..."

Sam tuned out the bored voice of her teacher and let her mind wander. Sinking down further in her chair, she folded her arms across her chest and grumbled to herself about the uselessness of alarm clocks. And that was exactly how she stayed until a few words of a loud, boring voice pierced through her sulky mood.

"...now I'd like you all to gather in groups of two for this assignment. I'll allow groups of three if there is no other option, but I'd prefer it if you all stuck with two."

Oh, that's nice. 

Wait. 

What?

WHAT?!

No. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. She did not want a group project right now of all possible days! Why was today unraveling so quickly?!

While Sam was freaking out in her back corner of the room, all the students in front of her instantly got up from their seats and formed groups with their friends.

Glancing around, Sam had never felt more alone. She didn't exactly have any friends (she only just got here, after all), not to mention...she didn't even really know anybody. The fullest extent of her knowledge on her fellow classmates were a couple of names and Dash and his group of bullies. 

That wasn't saying much.

Plus, Sam wasn't really in the mood to try and pretend to get along with people today. She just wanted school to end so she could go and explore more of the Dead House, something that was actually interesting. Not some dumb assignment (if Mr. Lancer was the one assigning it, then it had to be boring) that she didn't even care a pint about.

Pulling out of her turbulent thoughts, she looked up. Everyone in the class was already in groups, chatting happily away, planning ideas, and making jokes. It slightly amused Sam that they were all grouped with their fellow "people." Nerds were with nerds, jocks were with jocks, and popular girls were with popular girls. And - when she realized there was one person still without a partner across the room from her - lonely antisocial weirdos with lonely antisocial weirdos. 

She got up hesitantly and made her way over.

"Um, hi. I don't think we've personally met, but I'm Sam." Inside, she was wincing at her cringe-worthy introduction. This was already off to a terrible start. "Er, your name is...Foley, right? Foley Tucker? Or is it the other way around? Tucker Foley?" Sam fumbled around, unsure if she was remembering things correctly. Gosh, she hoped she didn't get his name entirely wrong. She could feel the heat rushing to her face already.

Smooth, Sam. Real smooth. You are just the best at this, aren't you?

The dark-skinned boy she had observed the day before glanced up from where he was fiddling with his PDA, his eyes widening a fraction. All of a sudden, he appeared shy and skittish. Quietly, he began to twiddle his thumbs, seemingly nervous of the normal human-to-human interaction (although, Sam couldn't find it in herself to blame him. After all, she herself wasn't exactly "thrilled" about this either). "I, erm, yeah. I-it's Tucker. Tucker Foley."

Glancing up at her, his anxiety appeared to increase tenfold. Then, he suddenly blurted out, much to her surprise, "That's T.F. for Too Fine."

Internally, Sam cringed at the cheesy line. Even Tucker looked embarrassed by his sudden slip, and, deciding to be mercifully oblivious, she ultimately decided it was probably best to just pretend like nothing happened.

"Well, Tucker, do you...wanna be partners for this group assignment?" Sam quickly glanced around the room at the other already-working pairs of students. "I mean, everyone else already seems taken, and we're the only ones left without a group, sooo...?"

"Hmm?" Tucker seemed to be lost, thinking about something else before he snapped his attention back to her. "Oh, I'm sorry. W-what was that?"

Sam figured it'd be best to remain patient. Tucker seemed distant, and she really needed a partner so that she could get to work on whatever this assignment was.

Sure, she could squeeze past her parents with minimal consequences for a detention. She could not, however, squeeze past her parents for missing assignments and bad grades. If either one befell her, then heaven help her. 

"I was just wondering if you wanted to be my partner. You know, for this assignment?" She decided the blunt, straight-to-the-point direction was the easiest route to take, for them both.

"O-oh. Um, sure. Usually, Mr. Lancer just let's me work on my own, b-but if you want to be partners, that's fine too."

Sam rubbed her arm nervously. "Look, you don't have to work with me if you don't want to. I wasn't trying to force you to, or anything."

Tucker's eyes widened. "No, no, no. It's alright, I don't mind." he murmured quickly. He looked afraid of her now, as if he was scared of offending her.

Sam was confused. While Tucker was saying one thing, his body language was suggesting another, but she was already really tired of her day so far, so she just decided he hopefully wouldn't mind spending one group assignment working with her. It wasn't as if she was going to bite, after all.

Forcing a smile on her face - hopefully in a way that was reassuring - Sam pulled out the chair to the desk next to her new assignment partner and sat down.

"Okay, so..." Sam fiddled with her skirt, slightly embarrassed. "What is this assignment supposed to be about?"

Tucker paused in his task of pulling out a couple sheets of paper, sending her a slightly confused - and a slightly more incredulous - look. "Were you not listening? We're analyzing the chapters we've read already and finding more symbols."

Oh. Of course. That made sense, and that sounded very boring.

Still. Ever the helpful thing it was, Sam's brain zeroed in on the boy's first comment.

"I was listening!" she protested indignantly. "I just kinda...missed what he was saying when he was talking about what we were supposed to do."

"Mmm," Tucker hummed quietly in response. He didn't sound too convinced, not that Sam could really get upset over his skepticism. She, after all, had sort-of listened, but mostly had just tuned it out. Besides, at least the tech-loving teen wasn't stuttering anymore. That was always a plus. 

So, with an irritated huff, she resigned herself to it and leaned back in her chair as Tucker pulled out his copy of the Lord of the Flies.

This was going to be very boring, indeed. 

Thanks a lot, Mr. Lancer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam liked to think herself a pretty good student. She got good grades, did the work she was assigned without too much of a complaint, and, as a result, kept her parents happy (grade-wise, anyway).

There were usually only a few days out of the whole year that she really couldn't concentrate very well on.

Unfortunately, today was one of those days. Her brain was here, but at the same time, not here. It sucked.

"S-so, I guess the fire represents rescue. Or maybe destruction? What do you think?"

Sam snapped out of her distracted daze and forced herself to concentrate, shaking her head to clear away the murky fog she felt was coating it like pea soup.

"Oh, um...I think it's more like rescue. And I guess Piggy's glasses represents logic." she finally murmured half-heartedly after a few minutes of pondering.

"No," Tucker shook his head, glancing up from the page he was scanning. "It's closer to innovation, I think."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Then how about we just put down both?"

Tucker thought about it. "Alright."

Sam picked up the pencil in front of her and jotted down the two new symbols under their growing list. Internally, she sighed to herself. This was so dull.

"Any others?"

Tucker flipped through a couple more pages. "Not that I can see. You?"

Sam glanced down at their paper. "Um, no. We got all the ones that I saw. If there are any others, they're probably further on in the book."

Taking off his glasses, Tucker began cleaning them off on his shirt, his gaze turning thoughtful. "I guess we're done then."

Barely managing to contain a sudden yawn, Sam glanced up at the clock. "We still have about eight minutes, though." Looking around the classroom, she noticed the still-chattering students and the soft rustling of book pages being flipped. "And everyone else is still working."

Tucker simply responded with a shrug of his shoulders. Seemingly unconcerned about the extra time, he whipped out his PDA and beginning fiddling with it.

Unsure of what else to do, Sam tapped her fingers against the desk, anxious for the period to end so she could continue on with her day.

After about four agonizing minutes crawled by, a sudden thought occurred to her. It was so obvious, she wanted to instantly slam her face into the desk.

If she had nothing to do, then why didn't she just spend the time wisely by gathering some useful intel?

Hopefully, Tucker wouldn't get offended by the questions. He had finally started to act (sort-of) comfortable around her, and she didn't really want to leave him a stuttering mess like when they had first talked.

"Hey, Tucker?" She took in a deep breath. She hoped this wasn't a waste of time. "How long have you lived here in Amity Park?"

With a suspicious look on his face, the beret-wearing teenager glanced up at her. "I've lived here my whole life, why?"

 "Well, I was just wondering...do you know of any abandoned buildings around here?"

Every muscle in Tucker seemed to freeze. 

Sam hesitated for a second, but when there was no form of protest, she took it as a sign to continue. "There's one on my street, and I was just curious if you knew anything about it."

Silence seemed to slow time to a jarring halt. 

Then, a quiet, fearful murmur, "I...I don't know what you're t-talking about."

The violet-eyed girl frowned. "You don't?"

Tucker turned his gaze away, avoiding eye-contact with her.

"N-no. If there were ever any abandoned houses here in the Downtown district, then I never heard anything about them."

Sam's brow scrunched up in confusion. Opening her mouth to say something, she was interrupted by a sudden Brrrriiiinggggg!

Jumping at the noise, she turned around to glare up at the offending bell, the clock below it reading 8:15. Class was over.

Turning back to the desk next to her, Sam was only met with an empty chair and the flash of a red beret disappearing into the crowd shoving to get out the door.

Slowly, Sam stood up. She numbly stared at the nearly cleared-out doorway, the students crowded around it trickling out in a steady stream, like particles of sand to the bottom of an hourglass. 

Tucker...

Tucker had lied.

She was sure of it.

She had never told him she lived here in the Downtown area. For all he knew, she could have lived outside of Amity Park on the outskirts, or maybe even Uptown. There was only one reason for him to even mention the Downtown area; and that was the Dead House. It was the only unused building in the entire district, that she knew for a fact. After all, in a small town, you only build enough buildings for the people living there. 

In Tucker's nervousness, he gave away the first place he assumed she had been talking about. 

He knew something about that house, and he had refused to tell her. The terrified way he had looked at her was enough of a clue to set her off on that conclusion.

The only question Sam couldn't shake off about it was:

Why would he lie? 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So, I hope it was an interesting return and that you all liked it! I had a lot of fun making it and FINALLY coming back to writing for this story.

Also, again, more apologies for taking so long!

Also, even more apologies, because I believe last chapter I said that this chapter would be about finally meeting...someone (I don't have to say who), and obviously...that didn't happen. That was what originally was going to happen, except, over the months I couldn't write anything without it being trash, I totally thought up new ways for things to go and switched up some of the events that were going to happen. 

Thus, this was born, and the Phantom chapter I know you all have been waiting so long for will be the next chapter. (Sorry about that! Please forgive me!) But, I assure you, I will not take as long as last time to update.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I hope you've had a Happy Halloween (if you celebrate it)!

Otherwise, have a wonderful day/night!

~Doodleroo1234

a.k.a. The Author that Says Sorry a Lot   XD