Casey sits outside the principal's office with a tissue pressed to his nose. He doesn't get why they would call him to the office just to make him wait. They're just going to lecture him, slap him with some stupid punishment, and then it'll start all over again tomorrow. Why put it off?

God, everything just sucks.

"Casey!"

He looks up as Annalise rushes up to him. He frowns.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?" he asks.

"I asked to go to the restroom," she says. "Has Mr. Lewis seen you yet?"

"No."

"Oh, good." She grins. "I got James to send me the video of your fight. It totally proves that Brayden started it."

For a second, his heart squeezes with relief, but then the second ends and his shoulders sag. He pulls the tissue away from his nose, wrinkling it a little as he sniffs. Everything's clogged up. He can't smell anything other than blood.

Annalise seems to deflate. "What's with the face?"

"I still wailed on the guy."

"I mean, you looked super cool. Maybe a little crazy, but he was kind of asking for it anyway"

He snorts only to stuff the tissue back under his nose as he disrupts the clot. He exhales out his mouth. "He totally was," he grumbles. "But, they're not gonna punish the captain of the hockey team when they could punish me. I'm an easy target."

"Maybe, but if I show them this video, they'll have to acknowledge that Brayden was goading you on. I'll make sure of it."

He gives her a long look. The past year has been good to her, it seems. She has her light back. Must be the combination of continued therapy, a healthy relationship, and a happier home life. In a strange way, seeing that she's come back from everything she's been through makes him almost hopeful. Almost.

Annalise gives him a thumbs up and starts towards the office door, but it swings open just as she reaches up to knock. The school principal, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a potbelly, stands before them.

"Annalise..." he greets slowly, glancing over at Casey. "You'll have to wait until I'm done with Casey."

"I understand, but..." she says, unlocking her phone and starting to scroll. "I have video proof that Brayden started this whole fight. Can I please have a minute of your time?"

Mr. Lewis raises his eyebrow. "Oh?"

She nods. "I just want to make sure you have the whole story before you talk to him."

"Well, alright then. Casey, it'll be a few more minutes."

"Sure, whatever," he says.

The two of them disappear back into the office, Annalise shooting a wink his way before the door closes behind her.

Casey sighs and bunches the bloody tissue in his fist. He has no idea how much the video caught; kids only really started gathering around after Brayden started pushing him. There's no way they caught them knocking his legs out from under him or any of the times he tried to walk away. Nothing will really soften the blow he's about to face. And how is he going to explain the...

He groans. The shadow, the icy cold, the textbook flying from the crowd? It's like she's getting a kick out of interfering in his business. He doesn't want to believe it, but...

"Psst."

He looks up but there's no one around. He digs his pinky into his ear, twisting a bit. Did...someone just hiss at him?

"Puckhead! Casey! Psst!"

Holy shit, someone did! He's on his feet in an instant, looking all around for any patch of shadow in the hallway. His attention falls on the janitor's closet door, just a few feet away, and a pair of glowing white eyes watching him from within.

Throwing one last look at the office door, he takes the risk and runs over, ducking into the closet and shutting it behind him. He finds himself engulfed in near-darkness, the sliver of light at the base of the door saving it. The eyes appear in front of him and he's just able to see the shadow girl take shape in front of him in the faint light.

"You," he says.

She tilts her head. "I literally gave you one job."

"Huh?"

"Don't be stupid? Ringing any bells?"

His cheeks redden. "I tried, okay? I—" He stops himself from launching into a rant. "Did you throw that textbook at Brayden?"

She sucks a breath through her teeth. "Guilty as charged. Worth it, though. I've been wanting to do that for a while."

"Right? I was—" Again, his words halt. "A while?"

She shrugs. "I've been trying to help you out lately. Bullies really grind my gears."

He pictures gears in his head grinding as they finally start moving again, a lightbulb going off. "Did...did you throw that hockey puck too? Last week?"

"Yeah."

"Why the hell did you do that? I've still got a black eye from that!" he exclaims, gesturing to his face.

"I mean, I was gonna ignore it, but he called you a retard. I mean, it's 2016. At least come up with a creative insult instead of relying on slurs, right?" She scoffs. "A puck to the back of the head was the least I could do."

He doesn't speak for a minute, just gawking at her. Before that first fight, he heard Brayden say something to his friends but Casey didn't know what. He's kind of touched that she would get so angry for him, even though she's a stranger who...

"Wait a minute, what are you even doing here?" he demands. "Are you stalking me?"

"No. I go to classes here."

"You're a ghost but you still go to school?"

"I'm not a ghost," she says. "And education is important. I got mutated young. If I didn't try and go to school, I'd end up pretty stupid, don't you think?"

He gasps. "Mutated? You're...oh, holy shit, you're a mutant?!"

She shrinks back a little, a sudden look of discomfort forming on her faintly-featured face. "Yes...? Unless the ooze that hit me did kill me, but I'm pretty sure it didn't. Unfortunately."

"That's sick! I didn't know mutagen could make mutants like you! When did—" He trails off. "Oh, ew, I sound like Donnie."

"Who?"

"My nerd friend. He's..."

Man, he needs to think before he speaks instead of talking and cutting himself off. Sure, she's a mutant ghost thing apparently, but maybe he shouldn't be so gung-ho about mentioning other mutants. Maybe she's seen them around already, but it's better not to risk it.

"He's a nerd."

She snorts. "I got that."

Silence. Casey fidgets, trying not to knock over the various mops, brooms, and buckets stored in the closet. "So," he says. "Why did you help me?"

She rolls her eyes. "I told you; I don't like bullies. I had to deal with enough of them before I became this."

"But why me? There's plenty of other kids in this school you could help."

Her silence unnerves him, but he doesn't break it, and a strange sort of hurt flickers across her face before she composes herself with a soft sigh.

"I can't help everyone. My...shadow-kinesis powers—"

"Shadow-kinesis?! Wicked!"

"I don't know what they are, okay? Bear with me, puckhead." She crosses her arms over her chest. "Anyway, my powers are limited to my energy. I don't sleep, so when I use up all my energy, I basically put myself in this meditative coma until I can replenish myself, and that can take days on end."

"Sounds kind of nice to just knock out for days without worrying about food. Or going to the restroom."

"Of course, that's what you'd think of."

He shrugs.

"I thought I'd try and scare Brayden off today by touching him, but he just ended up angry. Wasn't my plan," she says, "but I guess that's the risk I take."

"Did...you touch me?"

"Yeah. I didn't want you to kill the guy, but I couldn't really...stop you, you know?"

"Good point."

Again, they fall into silence. He keeps expecting her to leave, to melt away with some barbed quip, but she stays put, close enough to him that he can feel the chill radiating off her body. He's glad she hasn't run off, weirdly enough. He has questions, questions that she probably won't bother answering, but the longer she's here, the more chances he has.

"You go to school here," he says.

"I was pretty clear about that."

She goes to school here. She's seen him around and hates bullies enough that she caused his scuffle with Brayden last week. Then, she appears again and fights off the Purple Dragons, and the following night she appears at the ice rink.

And now this.

"Is there a reason you're doing all this?" he asks. "You must've been around for years, but now is when you start talking to me. What's the deal, Shadow?"

She crosses her arms over her chest in a self-hug. "I just noticed you struggling. Started out with trying to keep bullies away, then I started seeing you walking around at night and figured I'd follow you. There's not a lot for a shadow to do to fend off boredom, y'know?"

"You didn't have to butt in."

"But I did. Deal with it."

"Cool, then you can stop. Just go back to leaving me alone. Watch from the shadows or something, but you can stop. I don't need your help."

"Is that really how you feel?"

"Yup."

Her expression falls a little, almost sad, mostly tired. "Okay then," she says. "In truth...I called you over here because I wanted to apologize for what I said at the rink. My life sucks, but that doesn't mean yours doesn't. It's hard to lose a dad and it sucks even more that you lost yours."

He gawks at her. She didn't say sorry, not really, and yet she sounds more genuine than half the people he's spoken to since the funeral. She isn't apologizing for the world, for his pain, just for how she handled it. It's the most sincere sympathy he's gotten and it hits him square in the chest.

He blinks hard and sucks in a breath, clearing his throat. "Oh, uh...yeah, it does."

"I'll leave you alone now. Just wanted to clear the air." She jerks her chin at the door. "You should probably get back before they notice you're gone."

"Wait," he says just as she starts to shrink away. She halts. "What's your name?"

She glances back at him and one eye squints like she's raising an eyebrow. "I thought we weren't going to see each other again."

"Just in case?"

Her hollow laugh echoes in his ears. "Shadow is fine."

"There's no way that's your real name."

"Guess it's just another thing you'll have to deal with, hm?"

Then, she's gone, and Casey lets out a breath as he shakes his head. He pushes his way out of the closet, shutting it behind him and hurrying back to the hard plastic chair outside the principal's office just as it swings open.