Member
SavoS.P.I.R.I.T Case File One: A Spook-tacular Beginning!
Andy Anderson It was Friday, September 4th. The time was 3:26 PM.
The boy leaned back in his chair. Or rather... the teacher’s chair. Edison High's one and only biology teacher had a bad back and had insisted on a cushy seat, with excellent back support. Since he wasn’t here, someone might as well use it, right?
At least, that was this particular boy's view on things. He adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his hair, fidgeting with the notebook he'd brought with him. It was his pride and joy, filled with all his research.
It was a rather chilly day, the last vestiges of summer dissipating to make way for the fall. Probably a little too cold for jeans and a t-shirt, but, well. That was what he was wearing, so whatever. He'd deal with it.
He'd already written their club’s name on the blackboard, the block letters that made up their fancy little acronym written neatly in his nicest script (which still happened to look like chicken-scratch): S.P.I.R.I.T.
It was almost time for the club to convene. But before that— who was this boy, who had put together Edison High’s very own Supernatural and Paranormal Information Reconnaissance Investigation Team? Who was this boy, who had dreamed up the most ridiculous club to ever be approved in Edison High’s history, rivaled only by the Lemon Fanta Society?
His name was Andy Anderson, and if you think his club is ridiculous... well. He snorted. “Try saying that to my face, and see how well that works out for you,” he scoffed, to no one in particular.
No one was there, anyway. So it was fine to talk to himself a little.
The time was now 3:27 PM. Three more minutes until people were supposed to be arriving. Eight people had signed up for the club— a bigger turnout than he'd expected. He’d thought that they’d be having trouble scraping by the five person minimum limit for clubs, to be honest.
Of course, he was pretty sure someone would end up not showing up. And he had a pretty good idea of who that someone was, too.
But whatever. That didn't matter. His club was starting, and nothing could make Andy happier. Although the people who had actually signed up... well, he didn’t really know any of them that well. But Tori Harris was not exactly the type of person that one expected to be joining a ghost-busting club, and neither was Brody Cunningham, for that matter.
“Shouldn’t they be in, like... some sort of acting club?” he sighed under his breath. Seriously, talk about unexpected. “Or in the school musical?” What were they doing with him?
Not, of course, that he was complaining. He was sure that the both of them were passionate, and excited to investigate the supernatural going-ons of Sandalwood! ...and also Brody was pretty cute. So sue him.
Speaking of new club members, of course, his thoughts ended up straying to Raul Gardessa... and what their faculty advisor --who, to Andy's disgust, was a real slacker, probably wouldn’t show up at any of the club meetings-- had told him. “Just keep him out of trouble. That’s all you’ve got to do, anyway.”
...uh, what? Andy scowled. Like hell he was doing that. If Raul Gardessa —who he had to admit seemed pretty intimidating— was going to be in his club, then he sure as heck was going to be an amazing member. Who says delinquents can’t like supernatural stuff?
Of course, that was if he showed up at all. Which, truth be told, he probably wouldn't.
But yeah. Everyone in the club would have to participate to the best of their abilities! And that was that. How else would they claw their way to the top of Edison High's club hierarchy?
He wasn’t too sure about the other members. He didn’t really recognize their names, although maybe he’d know them by their face. None of them were as high profile as those three, except… didn’t Lillith Marjo do some kind of loli rapping thing?
Well, whatever. He was going to get to know all of his club members, and they were all going to become friends and investigate paranormal activity together. That was the truth.
Andy drummed his fingers against the table anxiously. He'd do his best to be a good club leader. He'd have to. He was confident that he'd do a good job, but...
But, well… even confident people got a little nervous, sometimes.
3:28 PM. People would probably start trickling in soon.
He took a deep breath. “I can do this,” he told himself, and somehow, that was almost enough to make him believe it. “I can do this. I know I can.”
Or at least... he'd do his very best.
