Duality: Vol 1, Melancholia (A New Adult Paranormal Romance) (3 page)

“So here you are,” she said, turning the corner and gesturing towards the first door on our left.  “Your very first class at Butt Suck High.  Here’s your map, here’s your list, and here at the bottom is your locker combo and number, written in purple pen because Ashley Dumbass doesn’t write in any other color
but
purple.  You’ll find it around the corner, back where we just were.  When you get your books, you can load them in there and never look at them again like most of the students here do, or you can use them to study.  I leave that up to you.”  She saluted and turned to go.

“Thanks, Jasmine.  For your help and the tour.”

She said nothing.  She just waved over her head and popped another really loud bubble on her way down the hall.

I went over to the door and peeked through the narrow but tall rectangular window with wire mesh embedded in it, getting a partial view of the classroom’s interior.  Most of the students were looking at the teacher.  The boy Malcolm was just sitting down in a seat near the back of the class on the far side, and a boy in the chair next to him was leaning over to say something to him.

I took a deep breath and grabbed the doorknob.  “Might as well get it over with,” I said.  I turned the handle and pushed the door open.

All eyes went to me, and the teacher stopped talking in mid-sentence.

Chapter Three: Malcolm

KOOTCH WAS IN THE MIDDLE of telling me how he’d given Mr. Adams some stupid explanation for why I wasn’t in class, when she walked in.  The new girl.  I couldn’t tear my eyes away for a full thirty seconds.

Kootch stopped whispering when he saw I was otherwise occupied, and when Mr. Adams quit talking in mid-sentence, he turned to see what all the fuss was about.  “Daaaaamn,” Kootch said quietly as his gaze took in the girl standing awkwardly in the doorway.

It wasn’t difficult to see that he was speaking the mind of pretty much every guy in the place.  She was cute for sure.  But what struck me most about her was her outfit.  I’m not really a guy who notices stuff like that, but her clothes were so … plain.  So was her hair.  Most of the cute girls in this school went all out with their wardrobes, with skinny jeans and shorts so tight I could read their lips, and cleavage coming out of everywhere.  They spent tons of time and money on their hair; I’d heard them talking about it.  Even the girls without the means to do it found a way to be trendy and sexy.  This chick looked like she’d just stepped out of a 10-year-old magazine ad for JC Penney instead of yesterday’s Abercrombie advertisement.  She looked like our librarian.

My mouth quirked up in a half smile as I realized I’d been trying for the same look myself when I’d gotten dressed this morning. 
Fashion-challenged students unite!
  Maybe she did it to keep the guys from hanging all over her.  She definitely had Kootch drooling.

She caught me looking at her and smiled.

I quickly changed my expression to a scowl, breaking eye contact and looking down at my desk.  The last thing I needed to do was take the new girl down nightmare alley. 
Let her stay as far away from me as possible.

“May I help you, young lady?” asked Mr. Adams, moving from behind his desk to stand in front of her.  I looked up at his tone.

She handed him a paper.  “I’m in your class.  Today’s my first day.”

“Oh, wonderful,” he said, looking down at it.  “Rae Livingston.  And where are you from?”  He was grinning at her like a loon.  I’d never seen him so happy before.  Normally, listening to him talk was about as exciting as watching the antique road show on TV. 
Oooh, look!  An old-as-shit lamp! 
But right now he sounded like he might be worth listening to for a change.  He had some kind of energy in his voice that wasn’t usually there.

“I’m from South Carolina.  That’s where I was last, anyway.”

“I don’t hear an accent,” he said in a singsong voice.

Is he flirting with her?  Oh, man, that’s sick.

“I wasn’t there long.”  She looked out over the class.  “Do you have a spot for me anywhere?”  It was like she was changing the subject or something.  I didn’t blame her.  Mr. Adams was kind of creepy when he was acting excited.  I suppressed a shudder.

Six guys stood up all of a sudden, making a horrible racket scraping their chairs across the floor.

“She can sit here!”

“Take my chair!”

“I have room!”

“No, Rae, sit here!”

The other two just stood there, dumbstruck.

“Oh, man,” said Kootch, loud enough that everyone around him could hear.  “Guess I’m out.”

“No, Mr. Kucharski, you’re not out,” said Mr. Adams, wryly.  “Please stand and come to the front.”

The six guys who offered seats sat down, grumbling.

Kootch looked at me, his eyeballs practically dancing out of his head.  “Dude!” he man-squealed.  He stood and half-walked, half-skipped up to the front.  “You want me to show her to her seat?  You want me to carry her stuff for her?”

Never mind that she wasn’t holding anything but a purse. Kootch’s enthusiasm was embarrassing to watch.

“No.”  Mr. Adams frowned at him.  “I want you to go to another classroom and get her a chair.  We don’t have any extra as you can see.”  He gestured out into the room.

Kootch calmed down considerably.  “Oh.  Yeah, okay.  I can do that.”  He flexed his right arm for the class, earning a few giggles.  “Be right back.”

He nodded at Rae on his way out, walking into the door accidentally, apparently forgetting he had to open it first.  Several students laughed as the door shut behind him.

“Miss Livingston, please take Mr. Kucharski’s seat.  He can use the one he’s bringing in.”

My heart stopped beating for a few seconds. 
She’s going to sit here?  Oh, shit.

She looked scared.  “Oh, no, that’s okay.  I don’t want to steal anyone’s spot.”

Mr. Adam’s waved her on.  “It’s fine, just go take it.  He needs to sit up front anyway.  It’ll help him concentrate.”

More giggles came from around the room.

Dammit.  Here she comes.

All the eyes in the room followed her progress.  I could swear I was hearing the music from the movie
Jaws
playing in my head.

Duh-nuh.  Duh-nuh.

I wanted to shout at her to go away.  To go sit somewhere else.  But that would have been rude, and I really don’t like being rude.  She looked like the type that would cry, too.

Duh-nuh-duh-nuh.

She smiled at me and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.  She has a dimple in her right cheek, and her two front teeth stick out just the littlest bit.  It made me like her more when all I wanted to do was hate her.  Hating her was better for her health.

She was only three seats away now.

Duh-nuh-duh-nuh-duhnuhduhnuhduhnuhduhnuhnaaaaaa!

She sat down at the desk next to me, and her perfume or the fabric softener in her clothes wafted over and sailed up into my nose.

I rocketed to my feet.  Before I could figure out what the hell I was thinking, my legs were moving.  I strode to the front of the class, tripping over backpacks and purses on my way but still not stopping.

“Mr. McNamara!  Please take your seat.”  Mr. Adams sounded as confused as I felt.

“I can’t,” I said, standing there in the front of the room in a panic, begging Mr. Adams with my eyes to let me leave.

“Well, sure you can.  Just turn around and march your feet back in the direction they just came from.”  He waved a finger at me dismissively.  “Go on.  Sit.”

Everyone laughed.

“I have to … help Kootch.  Kucharski.  Caden.  With the chair.”

Mr. Adams actually rolled his eyes at me.  “Mr. Kucharski can manage, I’m pretty sure.”

I took more steps towards the door.  “I’ll just go check.”

“Mr. McNamara!”

His frustrated voice followed me out into the hallway, but I ignored it.  I ran.  I had to get away.  That girl is a nice person, I can tell.  She isn’t loud or showy or anything.  Just nice.  Smiling with that dimple.  Plain but not plain.  I couldn’t mess her up like I’d messed up so many others.

I tried to calm myself down as I walked, looking for solutions where there probably weren’t any. 
Somebody’ll take my seat next class, and I’ll sit as far away from her as possible.  That’ll solve the problem.  Distance.  All I need to do is put some distance between us. 
Skipping school was not an option.  I had the State on my ass all the time, and they always came knocking when I didn’t show for school.  Until I was eighteen, they called the shots in my life. 
Three more months.  Three more months is all I need.

Kootch came around a corner, lugging one of the heavy wood and metal chair-desk combo units at his side.  “Dude, what’re you doing out here?  Coming to help me?”

“No.  Mr. Adams wanted me to run an errand.”

“Oh, okay.  I’ll see ya.  I’ll take notes for ya while you’re gone.”

I didn’t say anything.  Even a little encouragement was a bad idea.  I jogged to the end of the corridor and ran down the stairs.

Pushing open the exit door, I realized I was in the smoking section of the school, outside under the overhang that protected the smokers from inclement weather - as much as it could anyway; the school didn’t want to make smoking too convenient.

There was only one person out there.  Jasmine is her name.  She’s one of those rebels without a cause, making herself look ridiculous just to cause a fuss.  But I like her.  She doesn’t take shit from anyone, and she’s also one of the people least affected by me.  It’s weird because she seems like she’d be a full-on Miserable the way she’s always scowling, but she pretty much lives in her own world, not bothering with me or anyone else.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.  “Bullies after ya for your lunch money?” She blew smoke up above her head, kind of smiling.  Her expressions always have a tinge of bitterness to them.

“No.”  I shoved my hands in my pockets, looking around and jumping up and down a little bit to stay warm.  It wasn’t yet summer and some days were still too cold for a t-shirt.  I’d left my sweatshirt in my backpack, which was sitting by my desk in the classroom.

“Ass on fire?” she asked, sucking hard on her cigarette.

I looked behind me.  “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Good.  I hate flaming asses.”  This time she blew the smoke in my face.

“Do you mind?”  I scowled at her.

“What?” she asked, her face the picture of innocence.

“I don’t smoke, and I don’t particularly want to get cancer from your second-hand crap either.”

She rolled her eyes and then pointed with her cigarette at the sign affixed above her head on the overhead support.  “Then why are you hanging out in the smoking section, freak?”

I stared at the red sign for a few seconds, its bright white letters glaring out at me, calling me stupid.  SMOKING SECTION. PUT YOUR BUTTS IN THE PROPER RECEPTACLE.

“I have no idea what I’m doing here,” I said under my breath, turning and grabbing the door handle.  I left the smoke to Jasmine’s lungs and entered the dark stairwell, climbing the steps with little enthusiasm.

I was practically in slow motion by the time I got to the landing.  I could have left my backpack in the classroom and just said screw it, but my poetry journal was inside, and I didn’t want some idiot like Kootch getting his hands on it.  I had to go back.

I really didn’t want to return to that classroom and have to sit by that girl, though.  She was trouble, no doubt about it.  Maybe she’d even be like … 

No
. 
Do not go there.
Focus on what matters now - the future.  Stay away from the past. 
I had to keep my head up and my nose clean, stay under the radar for just a little while longer.

I can do this.

I walked out into the hallway and took slow, measured steps to the classroom, hoping to get there just before the period was over.  The only problem was my watch said I had thirty more minutes before that would happen.

I took a detour around the inside of the building, passing every set of lockers twice before I got back to the classroom.  I was just reaching for the handle when the bell rang.

Chapter Four: Rae

THIS WAS ALWAYS THE WORST part - walking into a classroom of a new school on the first day.  Twenty-odd pairs of eyeballs stared me down and searched my face, hair, and clothing, all the while making judgments.  And if that was all it ever was, I’d probably be fine with it.  But always, always there was the beginning of the Rainbow connection, too - the first tendrils of energy or whatever it was flowing out of me and into them.  I’d been hoping today it wouldn’t happen … that today would be the first day I could walk into a room of strangers and not feel them warming to me instantly.  But I knew immediately that today was not going to be that day.

Mr. Adams lit up the room with his smile, and from the expressions on the other students’ faces and the giggling I heard, it wasn’t his normal reaction to a new student.  I resisted the urge to sigh.  This is my life, and I just have to deal with it.  At least for now.  There was no point in getting mad at any of these people or the teacher; they couldn’t help themselves.

No less than six boys stood and offered me their chairs. 
No girls this time
.  I gazed out across the room, hoping I’d see some Neutrals there.  Jasmine was an awesome find, right there on my first day before I even started classes.  Maybe I’d win the lottery and stumble into a whole room of them. 
A girl can dream.

The happy faces staring back at me said,
no - no Neutrals in here
. 
 
I would just have to hold out hope that in one of my other classes I might get lucky.  Everyone here was giving me the Rainbow vibe.  Except …