Excerpt: Club Haunt

Chapter One: Club Sign-up
The sign-up sheet read: Club Haunt, a club for the scientific investigation of all things paranormal. Normally, a unique club like this would already be full, with a few straggling students hanging on to the faculty advisor, begging to join. But, this roster was empty and it was empty because of one thing—because the name Digby Wilkins was attached to it.
With the name of the school’s most infamous loner and obnoxious eccentric as the founding member, there was no way this club was anything but a hoax. Other clubs were filling to capacity as the minutes passed with Digby’s empty roster shuddering hopefully in the windy wake of some passing student looking for Photography Club. Today was the only day to sign up for extracurricular clubs and it looked like Digby’s club would remain as empty as the undisturbed roster. Students had until the last bell of the day to sign up. After that, any student who didn’t join a club would be without a club and any club that didn’t have any members would end its existence filed in the secretary’s drawer with all the other clubs that died in infancy.
Just as Digby’s lonely roster had given up hope, a last minute scramble five minutes before the final bell found two names scrawled across the page, Jeremiah Bickles, who everyone knew as Bickles and Granville Isaacson, who no one knew at all.

Chapter Two: The loner, the nerd and the new boy
Digby Wilkins was a loner for a reason, actually several reasons. But the main reason was that everything and everybody at some point annoyed him. Annoyed him to the point that he wouldn’t have anything to do with it or them any longer. He preferred it that way. It meant he didn’t have to worry what others thought of him, because he was in no way trying to impress them. In fact, impressing them was the last thing he wanted to do. Because if you impressed them, then they wanted to be around you and Digby couldn’t handle that.
“No, no, no. This won’t work.” Digby swung around, exasperated. The two underclassmen faces staring up at him, gaped in silence. Being prepared for one of Digby’s outbursts wasn’t something that could easily be done. “Where is everybody?”
“They are the only ones who signed up.” The faculty advisor, English teacher, Ms Newman, double-checked the clipboard that held the roster, even flipping the paper over in case a couple of sneaky, non-conformists might have signed the back, just for a laugh. Ms Newman passed the clipboard to Digby and fluttered back to her desk where she proceeded to lounge luxuriously in the over-stuffed wingback chair that she had smuggled in from her own classroom. “Digby, I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with what you have or dissolve the club completely.” A well-worn book appeared in front of Ms Newman’s face, she had fulfilled her duties as faculty advisor by showing up, how the club functioned was now up to the club, such as it was.
Digby paced the length of the room, gnawing at his lower lip, his brow furrowed and tense. Underclassmen. The charter members of his club were underclassmen. It was bad enough that only two kids showed up, but for neither one of them to be a senior was embarrassing. Still, he needed the club; he needed their assistance, such as it was. So, underclassmen, or not, they would have to do.
“Alright, you two, listen up. You aren’t exactly what I expected when I created this club, but you’re here, so you must have some interest in the paranormal, right?” Digby had stopped pacing long enough to try to size his two club members up. Bickles cleared his throat at Digby’s question of paranormal interest. He’d only signed up because he took too long to decide between photography club and chemistry club. By the time the bell rang, Digby’s club was the only one with any empty slots and Bickles’ mother would have killed him if he had come home without joining some kind of club. Social interaction is what she said he needed.
“So here’s the plan. We’ll meet back here tonight at 8pm. It’s Friday night, so we don’t have to worry about school in the morning. We’ll have plenty of time to get started.” Without waiting for a response, Digby charged out of the room.
Bickles and Granville sat, just as wide-eyed as they had when Digby entered. They looked back at Ms Newman, then at each other and finally toward the door where Digby had just stormed out. Bickles wondered if he should have mentioned his 9:30pm curfew. Granville wondered exactly what it was they were going to get started.