It was very late. Derek hadn't bothered to look at the clock but he knew that much. He hadn't removed his glasses yet as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling because the blurring of the tiles in the dark had been giving him a headache. The mass of glow-in-the-dark stars that had been left on the ceiling of the dorm by a previous occupant shone above him, forming intricate galaxies and constellations in the darkness. His eyes followed their trail as his mind stirred restlessly, keeping him from sleep.

	Eventually, with a huff, he rose from his bed and sidled to his desk to flip the lamp on. His sandy haired roommate groaned in protest, considering that this was something like the fifth time Derek had done this in at least the past two hours.

	“Can you please stop turning the lamp on?” the boy plead, raising his head from his pillow and squinting blearily in Derek's direction, annoyance apparent in his hoarse voice. Derek himself gave a dismissive wave, sliding into the desk chair and flipping open the book there. His roommate looked quite put out, and tried again. “Come on, man, it's almost three in the morning. At least get a flashlight or something.”

	Derek did't respond, the boy's voice barely even registering with him as he flicked loudly through a few pages of his book. Not to any real avail, of course. Nothing in the book even remotely resonated with what was going on in his head. Paranormal case files indeed. He scoffed aloud and flipped to the index, frowning. Bigfoot sightings – all fake of course – doctored UFO photos, and, of course, chapters upon chapters of stupid conspiracy theories. Not like he'd expected to find anything really useful to him at the public library, but he wasn't exactly rich on resources in this town. With a groan he leaned back in his chair and massaged his eyes under his glasses until he slowly became aware of his roommate still staring down the back of his head.

	“Hey, Spring,” said Derek, wheeling around in his chair to meet the face of his tired and fed up looking roommate. “You're tuned into all this, right? You got any insight?” he asked in all sincerity. Spring, his roommate, so named by his eccentric Evangelical parents, simply stared back at him in annoyance.

	“Tuned into what?” was all he said, though his face spoke volumes about all the other things he would very much like to say at this moment.

	“The paranormal,” answered Derek, rapping at the book on the desk with the back of one long-fingered hand. “You don't look at me like I've got the devil crawling out of my mouth whenever I mention it, so you must be touched in some way,” he continued insistently, almost accusatorially, staring Spring down with an uncomfortably intense gaze. Spring stared back, expression flat and unamused for a few moments before he flopped back down onto his pillow and rolled over, pulling his blanket over his head. Derek was not dissuaded by this. “Don't pretend I'm not right,” he said, leaning his chin and his arms on the back of his chair and continuing to stare. “You know exactly what I'm talking about too. You're different. You and that girl you hang out with.” Spring gave a heavy sigh from under his blankets and poked his head up again.

	“You got me, Derek. I'm a witch,” he said sarcastically, looking back to meet Derek's analyzing gaze.  “Or a warlock. That one's more proper.”

	“I knew it!” Derek said excitedly, obviously not picking up on the sarcasm and bolting up from his chair to hold onto the back of it. “I knew it! This is great!  Do you know about any weird stuff going on in this town? This school is giving me nothing, and I was so close to making a breakthrough with real evidence and everything with my research back home, but if I've got a partner who's just as weird as me, nothing's going to stop me,” he rambled, beginning to pace the floor behind his desk. Spring's expression did not change and he continued looking quite unamused before finally speaking again.
	“Derek,” he sighed heavily. “I'm afraid to tell you this, but I'm not the weird one here. Maybe you should consider listening to your mother,” he added finally, rolling back over and returning the blankets to his head. Derek frowned seriously but said nothing else, continuing his restless pacing for a moment or so more before finally switching the lamp off and flopping back into bed, his mind still buzzing.

	He was so close. His undying interest in the paranormal had led him to investigating abandoned places near his home during the summer, and he had made such good progress in his research, determined to undeniably prove that there was ghost activity going on in those areas. Then August had come and he had been shipped back to St. Regina's Academy where there was absolutely nothing for him to go on and now, barely a week into the school year, Derek was frustrated.

	He tossed fitfully onto his side. Listen to his mother, Spring had said, presumably in reference to the earlier Skype conversation with his mother, Dahlia, that Spring had undoubtedly overheard. “Derek, honey,” she had said, her tone growing increasingly strained, as she gave this talk to him at least once a year. “You know I love you, but sometimes it's hard for other people to understand you when you talk so much about your research. I want you to try making a few friends this year. Please try.” As attentive and loving as she was, she would never really understand, Derek felt. His attempts to explain the importance of his research were met often with weary looks and pleas for him to put it aside for a while and do something else.