by Davis Ashura
Seconds later, Mrs. Wilkerson strode into the room. Their homeroom teacher was a small woman with tidy white hair pulled back in a bun, and wire-rimmed glasses that perched on the tip of her nose. She peered over the edge of them and glanced around the room with a sardonic smile on her seamed face. “I know you’re seniors, and you think you should get to do things on your own terms, but in here we’ll still have assigned seating.” Her voice had a trace of a German accent. “That’s to say, don’t get too comfortable in your seats.”
A rumble of groans met her words, but a few minutes later she had the room reorganized, and the muttered complaints and conversations slowly faded.
“Good,” Mrs. Wilkerson said. “Now that we have that out of the way, we can go over my expectations for homeroom.”
Just then a middle-aged woman—a secretary from the principal’s office—minced into the room. Her wooden-soled stilettoes clacked like a typewriter as she walked. She whispered something to Mrs. Wilkerson, who listened intently before looking over in William’s direction.
“You’re wanted in the principal’s office,” Mrs. Wilkerson said.
William arose from his seat. “Is something wrong, ma’am?” he asked as he approached. A stab of unreasonable worry rose. His stomach hollowed, and his heart raced. Unexpected panic—fear for no reason—had also become a common part of his life since the death of his family. “Is Mr. Zeus hurt? Am I in trouble?”
“Who’s Mr. Zeus?” Mrs. Wilkerson asked with a frown of confusion.
“Jason Jacob’s grandfather. I live with him now.”
Mrs. Wilkerson’s face cleared. “Ah, yes. Pardon me. I forgot your home situation. But not to worry, Mr. Wilde. Nothing’s wrong. No one’s injured. There’s merely a new student in school. We only found out about her today, and Principal Walter wants you to show her around. It turns out the two of you have the same class schedule.”
“Come along,” the secretary commanded with an imperious snap of her fingers.
“Yes, ma’am,” William said, and they set off for the administrative offices.
Once there, the secretary gestured for him to have a seat. “The new student is meeting with the principal. They should be finished up in a little bit.”
William tried not to groan. In adult speak, a little bit really meant twenty or thirty minutes. “Yes, ma’am,” William said with a sigh before sinking into a hard, plastic chair and settling in for a long wait.
Muzak played in the background. Ugh! Soul rot. William wished he’d brought something to read. Anything to distract from the horrific strains of faux violins trying—and failing—to capture the badassery of Billy Idol’s “White Wedding”.
He glanced around. An old edition of Sports Illustrated from a few years back caught his attention. Michael Jordan graced the cover. William mentally snorted. Jordan was just a scorer. He’d never be as good as Magic or Bird. As William flipped through the SI, he tried to ignore the Muzak and prayed that Principal Walter would finish up soon with the new student.
He knew it would be unlikely, but . . .
The door to Principal Walter’s office opened, and William perked up.
“If you have any other concerns, please let us know,” Principal Walter said in his hearty baritone to someone in his office.
“I’ll be sure to,” a young woman replied in a confident contralto. It also held a hint of . . . was that mockery?
William sat up further, his curiosity piqued.
The new student, whatever her name was, stepped out of Principal Walter’s office, but her back remained toward William. He couldn’t see her face, but he could see enough. Tall and slim, she had dark hair that cascaded to her shoulders, and if her face was anything like the rest of her . . .
“I know changing schools in the middle of high school can be difficult,” Principal Walter said in sympathy, “but we’ll do anything you need to make the transition easier.”
“It’s more difficult than you know,” the girl said with that same barely heard hint of amused irony.
“Of course,” Principal Walter said with a brief smile.
The girl glanced toward William, and his heart picked up the pace. Sonya Bowyer suddenly had stiff competition for being the prettiest girl in school.
“Mr. Wilde. Come meet our new student,” Principal Walter said. “You’ll be showing her around.”
William stood, and sent a silent prayer of gratitude that his hands weren’t sweaty.
“William Wilde,” he said, offering his hand to the girl.
“Serena Paradiso,” she replied, taking his hand in a firm grip and shaking it. Her full lips were turned up in a smile, and her dark eyes sparkled with amusement.
“Well, Ms. Paradiso, I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Mr. Wilde,” Principal Walter said, “and with him to show you around, I’m sure you’ll have no problems settling in.”
“I’m sure Mr. Wilde will make sure I have no problems at all,” Serena replied in her cool, composed voice.
She held William’s gaze all the while, and he began to fidget. Her regard held an intensity that he found unnerving.
The principal eyed her uncertainly before clearing his throat. “Yes. Well, the two of you had better head on back to your homeroom. First period starts in a few minutes.”
“Please lead the way, Mr. Wilde,” Serena said with a sweeping gesture.
“William. My name is William,” he corrected her, leading her out of the administrative offices.
“And your preference is that I call you William?”
She spoke in a formal manner, and William studied her in momentary puzzlement before answering. “Yes. No one calls me ‘Mr. Wilde.’”
“Then perhaps I shall be the first,” Serena replied with a half-smile.
“I’d prefer if you wouldn’t,” William said.
Serena held him with her disconcerting gaze for a beat before facing forward. “As you wish,” she said.
William eyed her sidelong. Pretty girls tended to put him off-balance, and Serena was definitely pretty. He tried not to trip over his feet as they continued down the empty hallway.
Serena chuckled, low and throaty. “Or perhaps I’ll call you Will.”
William grimaced. “Please don’t.” Only his parents and his brother had ever called him Will.
THE NEW GIRL
By the time William and Serena made it back to homeroom, it was nearly over. Mrs. Wilkerson only had a few minutes to meet Serena and introduce her to the rest of the class.
William wondered how Serena would react to twenty pairs of assessing, curious eyes focused on her. He would have melted into a puddle of nervous sweat had their circumstances been reversed.
However, Serena evidently had greater self-assurance. She gazed over the other students like a queen surveying her rapt subjects before eventually offering them a composed smile. “It’s good to meet all of you, and I look forward to getting to know you in the coming year,” she said.
Warm smiles greeted her words, which William thought unsurprising. Serena had a presence, something unassociated with her beauty, something indefinable, but perhaps related to the surety in her eyes and the confidence of her carriage and voice. William figured that Serena could have been plain as a manila folder, and many would have still found her intriguing.
In fact, she had already been noticed. Many of the more popular boys in the class gave her admiring appraisals, while some of the girls viewed her with indecipherable, speculative gazes.
William mentally smirked and placed a wager with himself. Serena would get bored with him before second period and move on to join one of the popular cliques.
After homeroom ended, William led her out into the packed hallway. Conga lines moved in both directions, but some students stood like rocks in a stream as they talked, laughed, and postured, with the boys speaking a little too loudly and gesturing too flagrantly. William wrinkled his nose in disdain. Peacocks wearing too much cologne.
“Where to?�
�� Serena asked.
“American History, but we’ve got to make a pit-stop first,” William replied. “I promised to show a freshman how to get to her first class.”
Serena lifted her brows in an unspoken question.
“She was lost and needed help,” William answered.
“How very generous,” Serena said with a faint smile.
William couldn’t tell if she was mocking him or not, and he simply shrugged before searching around for Jessira. He quickly found her, surrounded by a gaggle of giggling girls. She stood out like a giraffe, easily a head taller than the others.
“You know where you’re going?” he called to her.
Jessira flashed a smile. “I think so,” she said, gesturing to the other girls. “But if I don’t, apparently these others will help me figure it out.”
William nodded, glad to see her fitting in. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I will.”
“That was kindly done,” Serena said after Jessira and her new group of friends had moved on.
“It wasn’t much,” William replied. “So where are you from?”
“San Diego,” Serena replied.
William did a double-take. “San Diego? Why’d you move here from there? I mean, Cincinnati is great and all, but San Diego? Isn’t it always warm and sunny?”
“My father’s job,” Serena answered. Her lips curled in scorn, the first sign William had seen from her of something other than amusement. “It wasn’t my choice.”
“Moving right before your senior year? That sucks,” William empathized.
“Yes, it does.”
“Well, there’s only one thing I can say to that, and we both know what it is.” William waited a beat. “Dress warmly, because you’re going to hate the winter.”
Serena blinked in surprise before offering a slow, warm chuckle. “I’m sure that’ll be true,” she replied. “And I’m also sure that I’ll miss the ocean.”
“My mom used to say the same thing.” William smiled in remembrance. “She was from the Caribbean.”
“Was?”
Once again, William found himself the focus of Serena’s disconcerting scrutiny.
“She died last year. Car accident,” William answered, his answer curt even though saying the words no longer caused a lump in his throat. At least not on most days.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Serena said. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.” She wore a tight-lipped expression of sympathy and squeezed his forearm.
“It’s fine,” William said, as they skirted a couple of slow-moving students. He forced a smile even while he shoved down a flash of anger. He had long since grown tired of everyone’s sympathy. “We’re here.” William gestured to the room they were about to enter. “First period, American History.”
As soon as they entered the room, William noticed the stares. From the boys came slack-jawed expressions of awe, and from the girls, cool-eyed gazes of assessment.
“I think they’re staring at me,” Serena said, amusement back in her voice.
“No. It’s me,” William said, sighing in feigned weariness. “I get this kind of attention everywhere I go.”
Serena chuckled. “I’m sure you do.” She looked out at the class. “They’re still staring.”
“Ignore it,” William suggested. “It’s tedious, but you get used to it.”
“I’ll have to trust your expertise.” Serena smiled and nudged him with her elbow. “Where do we sit?”
“Over there.” William led her to a pair of unoccupied desks.
They settled into their chairs, and he tried not to squirm about in his seat, but he could feel the interest from the rest of the class upon Serena. By reflection, it fell on him, too. Jennifer Miller, one of the prettier girls in their class, sat to Serena’s right and began speaking to her. William tried not to eavesdrop.
“Switch seats with me,” a voice hissed from behind him. It was William’s friend, Daniel Karllson. He’d moved into William’s neighborhood a few years back, right after Jason.
“Why?” William whispered. “So you can sit next to Serena?”
“I’m just trying to be a good friend,” Daniel said. “You know she’s out of your league. You’ll just embarrass yourself when she dusts you off.”
“You think this is a favor you’re doing me?” William asked with a laugh.
“On my honor,” Daniel replied. His face split in a grin. “That’s what friends are for.”
“Right. I’m sure they are, Dionne Warwick.”
“What?” Daniel’s face creased in confusion.
“The song,” William reminded him.
“What song?” Daniel asked. His face cleared. “Oh. That song.” He grimaced. “Dude, that was a sucky song. Why would you even remember it?”
“And just for that, you can’t have my seat.”
“Fine,” Daniel pretended to huff. “But don’t come whining to me when she drops you.”
“Whatever.”
Mr. Callahan strode into the room on William’s final word. He shut off the various murmured conversations with a gruff, “Quiet down, wise guys,” in his thick Brooklyn accent with an idiom perpetually stuck in the forties.
“See you at lunch?” Daniel whispered while Mr. Callahan rifled through his briefcase.
“Sure thing,” William agreed.
“Will your new girlfriend be there?” Daniel asked. He nodded toward Serena.
Judging by the swift upturn of Serena’s lips, William was sure she had heard, and he wanted to strangle Daniel. “I don’t know. Now shut up.”
As if on cue, Mr. Callahan barked, “I said quiet down, fat-heads.” He spoke directly to William and Daniel. “Or do you want a jug on your first day of school?”
William shot Daniel a glare of annoyance.
As soon as Mr. Callahan’s attention shifted elsewhere, Serena arched her brow at William. “Jug?” she mouthed.
“Justice under God,” William whispered as quietly as he could. “Detention.”
“Keep talking and you’ll have it,” Mr. Callahan said without glancing his way.
William shut his mouth.
Thankfully, the rest of the class passed quickly, and after History came English, and then Biology.
The teacher for the latter was Mrs. Nelson, a mousy appearing woman with a heart of ice. She had a boa constrictor for a pet and fed live rats to the beast. The one time William had seen a feeding like that, he’d almost lost his lunch.
Right after being dropped into the cage with the boa, the poor rodent had scurried about, obviously terrified, and William had felt an unexpected surge of sympathy for the rat, especially when the dead-eyed snake had slowly uncoiled, menacing, quiet, and deadly. The sight had sent shivers down William’s spine. He hated snakes. He always had and always would. Plus, as the preacher at his church had once said, any animal that walked without legs had to be the devil.
“This semester we’ll be dissecting a number of animals,” Mrs. Nelson said. “Now, first things first. Find yourself a lab partner. I don’t particularly care who you choose.”
William immediately thought of Serena. Why not? She was standing right next to him, fingering a small, silver cross that hung from her necklace. “Do you want to be lab partners?” he asked.
Serena spun his way, appearing relieved. “Absolutely,” she quickly answered. “I was afraid I’d be left out in the cold.”
William smiled. “Has that ever happened?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I mean, have you ever been the odd man out?”
“Well, first of all, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a woman, not a man,” she said. “And secondly, no, it hasn’t. But there’s always a first time.”
“Not for something like that,” William said. “At least not in high school.”
“You never know.”
Steve Aldo approached them with a confident gait and a cocky grin. Steve was handsome, athletic, and one of the popular boys. �
�We haven’t been introduced yet,” he said.
“What are you talking about, Steve?” William asked, purposefully misreading Steve’s statement. “We’ve known each other for years.”
Serena covered her lips, hiding a smile while Steve frowned.
Good.
Of course, Steve wasn’t always a bad guy. Sometimes he could actually be genuine and friendly. But he was insufferable in Jake Ridley’s presence. Then, like all of Jake’s friends, Steve became a sycophant, trading his confidence to be an orbiting planet to Jake’s sun.
“I was talking to her,” Steve replied.
“Oh, right,” William said. “In that case, Serena, this is Steve. Steve, Serena.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Steve said, grinning widely again and flashing his perfect white teeth. “I’m still looking for a lab partner. So how about it? You and me and all that.” He lifted his brows suggestively.
William rolled his eyes. What a tool.
“Thank you, but I already have a partner.” Serena put her hand on William’s forearm.
Steve’s grin slowly faded into disbelief. “William? Seriously?” At Serena’s nod, he made a Herculean effort to cover his shock and appear nonchalant. “Well, when you get tired of him, I’m sure Mrs. Nelson will let us switch.” He gave a final cheesy grin and a wink.
“What a himbo,” Serena said, staring after Steve.
“What?”
“A himbo. A him-bo. Like a bimbo. Steve. Your friend. That’s what he reminds me of.”
William chuckled and glanced at Steve, who once more offered Serena a cheesy grin.
“Does that smile actually work for him?” Serena asked.
“Yeah,” William answered. “At least it seems to, maybe even on some of the guys now that I think about it.”
Serena covered her mouth as she stifled laughter.
William grinned in bemusement. It hadn’t been that funny of a joke, but hey, whatever made Serena smile was fine by him.
Serena got her laughter under control and glanced at him, but her eyes were still shiny. “I’ll have to remember that about you.”
