There were the thugs. There were the jocks. The brainy geek set. This group usually includes the band geeks, though there’s usually a dividing line in their opinion. There’s a reason high school stereotypes have stayed the same for years. Which is one of the reasons prison is so similar to high school. That’s what a convict is, really. They are that little kid who just couldn’t keep it together. And prison was just a big after school detention that was harder to skip out on.
Though nobody ever got shanked at Matheson High.
Not yet.
First hour was Biology and Chemistry. The teacher was a burley man named Mr. Judkins. He was fifty-ish, with graying hair that wrapped around his bald top, and looked more like a basketball coach than a science teacher. He had a wide smiling mouth and a thick mustache that was grayer than his hair. The classroom was just down the hall from the office, so Brandon had no trouble finding it.
The class was full, most of the desks already occupied. Each desk was shared by two students. It took Brandon a moment to find a seat that wasn’t already taken. He felt like every eye in the room was on him as he took a seat toward the front of the class. Next to the same kid he saw leaving Principal Marcus’s office. His sandy blonde hair and thick, horn rimmed glasses were the same as before. He looked up as Brandon took the seat next to him. Brandon smiled at him and the kid looked quickly away. Somebody at the back of the room snickered. Brandon leaned around in his seat and peered at the back of the room, looking for the source of the laughter. It came from two redheaded boys sitting at the rear of the room. They were watching Brandon, their eyes identically beady and weasel-like. Brandon didn’t know who they were, or why they were looking at him with such obvious dislike, but the feeling was instantly mutual. He didn’t like the look of them.
They met his gaze and broke into identical grins. The one on the right was heavier than the other, but they looked way too similar not to be related. They were either twin brothers or close cousins, since they were in the same class together. The skinny one on the left had a scattering of pimples on both cheeks. He leaned over and said something to the other one and they snickered again. They never took their eyes off Brandon.
After the second bell rang, Mr. Judkins closed the door and walked to the front of the room. Looking at a sheet of paper in his hand, Judkins glanced at Brandon and the boy sitting beside him. He pursed his lips when he looked at the paper. Brandon could only imagine what it said. Merryweather, newly orphaned, be extra nice. Judkins looked at the rest of the class, his smile returning as he spoke. “We have a couple of new students, everyone.” He gestured to Brandon and the other boy. “If you want, how about the two of you tell us a little about yourselves?”
Brandon looked over at the boy sitting beside him, a little relieved he wouldn’t be going through this alone. The boy’s face was white and he looked like he was about to be sick. Brandon tried to look sure of himself as he stood, wondering why the man had added ‘if you want’, and looked at the rest of the class. He was careful to meet the gaze of as many students as he could, though avoiding the eyes of the duo in the back. “My name’s Brandon. I moved here from Washington, to live with my uncle. I’m 16 years old. I’m a Leo and I like long walks in the woods.” Most of the students laughed at that. So did Judkins. He sat down, giving the boy next to him a reassuring wink. At least he hoped it was reassuring.
Standing, the other boy looked more frightened than ever. He wet his lips and spoke in a halting voice. “My name is Albert Hazel. I’m from Nashville, Arkansas. My parents and I moved here to be close to my mom’s family. They live in Fort Smith. My parents drove through Matheson once and my mom liked the town, so we moved here. Thank you.” He sat down. He hadn’t raised his eyes once during his little speech. Not once.
When he sat down, Judkins nodded at the class. “I hope you will all help to make Brandon and Albert feel at home here at Matheson High. Now, if you will all turn to the chapter on Mitosis, we’ll begin today’s lesson.” When he saw that Brandon and Albert had no textbooks, Judkins thumped his forehead with his closed fist and pointed at the two boys. “You fellows will need books, I suppose?”
The rest of the class laughed.
Brandon had to repeat the process of introducing himself to each of his classes, throughout the day. 2nd period was Algebra with Mrs. Henry, a gray haired woman with hips as wide as the desks in her class. She had a friendly smile and warm brown eyes. He once again found himself sitting close to Albert Hazel. But the red headed uglies weren’t there. Probably not quite bright enough for Algebra?
3rd period was English Composition with Mr. Gibson. Gibson was a tall lanky man, with bright red hair and an ugly grin. He looked like an ass. By that time, Brandon was familiar with some of the faces staring back at him as he made his introduction.
4th period was art with Miss Hall. She was young and attractive, with dark black hair and vibrant blue eyes. She didn’t make Brandon stand and introduce himself. Instead, she simply told everyone his name and asked that they not give him a bad impression of Matheson High. Brandon fell in love with her for it. She was attractive as hell.
Lunch was after Miss Hall’s Art class. The cafeteria was packed with kids. Brandon found himself in line behind a group of giggling freshman girls. They kept taking little peeks over their shoulders at him, whispering to themselves. Brandon tried to ignore them, but it didn’t help that it felt like every eye in the place was on him. There were 3 things on the menu. Burgers, pizza, and a baked potato bar. Brandon had a burger, sitting at a table by himself. While he was eating, Albert Hazel walked up and said. “Do you think I could sit here?”
“Sure.” Brandon said, smiling up at the nervous boy. Albert was short and chubby, and his glasses kept slipping down his nose. He was the picture of the geeky new kid. Brandon gestured at the table. “Pull up a chair, Albert.”
Albert sat down. He said. “Thanks.” He had pizza on his tray. It didn’t look too bad. “You’re Brandon, right?”
“Right.” Brandon said, smiling. “And you’re Albert. How’s your first day going so far?”
“Okay, I guess.” Albert said, looking around the cafeteria, watching the students surrounding them. “It’s a little nerve racking, isn’t it?” Brandon shrugged. He thought of his friends back home. “It could be better. But at least the food’s good.” He took a bite of his burger and grimaced. Albert laughed, looking around to see if anybody heard him. That made Brandon smile.
Lunch lasted a full hour. After they finished eating, Brandon and Albert went out to the open area beside the cafeteria. That was where the majority of students hung out after eating. Others went out to the parking lot. They were allowed to sit in their cars as long as the doors were left open and they didn’t turn their music up too loud. Brandon tried to get Albert to tell him about himself, but the smaller boy was hesitant to say much. He just followed Brandon around and tried to be invisible. It was a bit unnerving, but Brandon didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop. When the bell went off, Brandon and Albert parted ways.
After lunch, it was 5th period Phys Ed with Coach Thomas. He was a nice enough guy, more interested in getting through the day than putting them through too much work. They spent the day playing touch football and running laps. Nothing too strenuous. Phys Ed was an elective. Not something Brandon would’ve picked for himself though. He sensed his uncle’s hand in it, perhaps believing a healthy body equaled a healthy mind.
6th period was Computer Applications and Basic Programming. The teachers name was Mrs. Geary. She was a heavyset brunette. She looked bored with her job. She made him introduce himself because she thought it was what she was supposed to do. By the time Brandon made it to Mr. Underhill’s History class, the last period of the day, he was dead on his feet. Underhill was a gray haired man, with a weathered face and a gruff demeanor. There was a hook shaped scar just under his left eye. He introduced Brandon to the rest of the class, handing him his textbook before assigning him a seat in the third
row. He was at the second desk back from the front. There was a pretty girl sitting in front of him. She had chestnut hair, streaked with blonde, which was cut just above her shoulders. She was dressed nice, in jeans and a cute little green blouse. Brandon didn’t see much of her face as he took the seat behind her; her bangs were long in the front, draping down her forehead and over the left side of her face. But what he did see was enough to make him square his shoulders as he walked past her.
Mr. Underhill looked at the class, then addressed himself to Brandon. “Welcome to early American History, Mr. Merryweather. I’m not sure where your studies were at your old school, but we’re currently studying the American Revolution. If you need any help catching up, I’m sure one of your fellow students will be happy to lend you a hand.”
The girl in front of Brandon raised her hand and said. “I’ll help Brandon catch up, Mr. Underhill.” She said it with no trace of embarrassment or awkwardness.
Mr. Underhill looked at her and smiled. “That’s the spirit, Claire. You and Brandon stay for a bit after class.”
Somebody in the rear of the room snickered. Brandon turned and wasn’t surprised to see the two red headed uglies sitting in the far corner. They saw him look. The skinny one grinned and winked at Brandon. The fat one laughed again.
Mr. Underhill cleared his throat and glanced toward the back of the class. “Perry? Luke? Do either of you have something to add?”
Neither of the boys said anything. But Brandon could feel their eyes burning into the back of his neck.
When the final bell rang, there was an audible sigh of relief from everyone in the classroom. Even Underhill. Brandon was getting to his feet when Claire turned in her chair to face him. His breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful. Her only flaw was an eye-patch covering her left eye. He could just make it out beneath the fall of her bangs. It was pink and an eye was drawn upon it. The eye was the exact same shade of green as her right eye, which was emerald and breathtaking. She smiled at his little intake of breath and stuck out her hand. “Let me be the first to welcome you to this particular level of hell, Brandon Merryweather. In case you missed it at the beginning of class, I’m Claire Moody.”
“Bran.” He said, taking her hand in his. Her hand was soft and fit very well in his palm, but she had a ferocious grip.
“Bran? Not Brandon?”
“My friends call me Bran.”
She laughed. “You want to be my friend, Bran?”
“Why not?” He sat back down in his seat. Claire slid around to a more comfortable position. He couldn’t believe how pretty she was. She looked at him and smiled.
“Well, you’re a guy, for one.” She said, sounding amused to be having this conversation. “What would my parents think?”
“I said friend. Not boyfriend.” Too late, he realized how bad that sounded. “Not to say that I wouldn’t want to be your boyfriend. You’re gorgeous. It’s just. I’m new. And.. And..” He gave up, knowing that he sounded like an idiot.
Claire’s smile split her face in two. She laughed and said. “We better get started if I'm going to finish with you before my dad gets here.”
“Do you want to find a place outside?” Brandon said, trying to hide his embarrassment. “That way, we can see your dad when he gets here.”
Claire smiled. “That sounds great. Let’s go.”
They gathered their things and left Underhill’s room together. You could feel the relief in the hallway as the students grabbed what they could from their lockers and split. Brandon followed Claire to her locker, walking slowly and easily alongside her. She glanced at him, her lips curved into a half smile. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words, Bran?”
Other students gave Brandon and Claire bemused smiles as they passed. Claire stowed the books for classes that hadn’t assigned homework, trying not to laugh too hard at the silly boy standing beside her.
Brandon felt his cheeks go hot and he looked at the tile under his feet. It was gray, flecked with bits of green, blue, and red. “I..”
“It’s okay, Bran.” Claire said, letting her smile fade. “I’d love to be your friend, if you don’t mind being friends with a Cyclops.”
Brandon didn’t smile. “You’re not a Cyclops, Claire. And anyone who says that needs to have their eyes examined.”
Claire’s smile slipped away, her face going very serious, and she looked at him. “You’re a strange boy, Brandon Merryweather. Bran.”
“Thanks.” Brandon smiled.
Outside, they found an empty bench, close to the parking lot, where they could watch for Claire’s dad. They sat next to each other, placing their bags at their feet, and watched the other students as they loaded up into their cars and hauled ass. Claire bent down and pulled her history book from her bag, setting it on her lap and opening it. “We better get to work.”
Brandon sighed and bent to retrieve his own book. “What time does your dad usually get here?”
“He’s usually here by now.” Claire said, smiling. She blinked her single beautiful eye at him. “What about you? How do you get home?”
“I walk.”
“Where do you live, anyway? I haven’t seen any moving vans or u-hauls?”
“Do you know that place at the end of Bachman Road?” Brandon said, glancing up at her pretty face. He hadn’t bothered opening his book yet.
“No way?” She looked at him, her eye going wide. “You live at Highgarden?” Brandon was quiet a moment. “You know about Highgarden?” “Know about it? Everybody in town knows about Highgarden. Not much, just that it’s there. And that Gerrick Merryweather lives there.” She thumped her forehead with the heel of her hand. “I should have guessed when I heard your name. What’s it like? In Highgarden?”
“Like anyplace else, I guess.” Brandon shrugged and looked away. The parking lot was emptying out quickly. Soon the two of them would be alone. Brandon started to tell Claire about his parents when he heard ugly laughter behind them. He turned, only half surprised to see the two redheaded boys standing near the front doors, watching them. They both wore ugly smiles and their eyes were mean. They looked like redheaded, younger, and uglier versions of Abbot and Costello.
The fat one almost said something, but stopped when the skinny one nudged him in the ribs. They both laughed and left, walking around the front of the building and out of sight. Brandon spoke, still looking in the direction the two uglies went. “Who are those guys? They’ve been watching me all day, giving me nasty looks.”
“Luke and Perry Krueger.” Claire said, the distaste evident in her voice. She closed her book, sliding it back into her bag, and looked at Brandon. “They’re juniors, even though they’re both 19. They’ve been held back once, I think.” She ran a hand through her hair, sighing. “They’re sort of like an unofficial welcoming committee, here at Matheson. Everybody gets the treatment.”
“Everybody?” Brandon said. “Why doesn’t somebody do something about them? The principal? Teachers?”
“Because the Krueger twins are too dumb to be really dangerous.” She smiled, wanly. “And it would probably be too much trouble to try, anyway. Their dad is some kind of big shot on the city council, I hear. So, they get left alone, as long as they don’t break any bones and don’t kill anyone.” “Nice place.” Brandon smiled, the sarcasm twinkling in his eyes. The parking lot was nearly empty now. A blue Ford Explorer rounded the far corner and headed in their direction.
“It is, most of the time.” Claire said. She waved at the Explorer as it pulled into the lot. “That’s my dad. I’ve got to go.” She turned to go, but stopped, looking back at him. “Do you want a ride home?”
Brandon shook his head. “I like the walk. Thank you, anyway. It was nice to meet you, Claire Moody.”
She smiled at him. It was a beautiful smile. The eye patch only accentuated her beauty, it didn’t detract from it. Anybody that made fun of her by calling her Cyclops definitely needed glasses. Or at least a kick in the ass. “Ni
ce to meet you, too, Bran.” Then she left, walking over and getting into her dad’s car. She waved as the vehicle pulled away and Brandon waved back.
Maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad, Brandon thought, watching the vehicle disappear around a turn. He was no longer thinking of the Krueger’s. He was thinking, instead, about the green eyed girl and the next day, when he would see her again.
But the Krueger’s were thinking of Brandon. As much as they could think. And they were also thinking of the future. And of what they would do to him, when they had the opportunity. Something mean. Something nasty.
Something that Brandon wouldn’t expect, or ever forget.
Chapter 9
Claire looked down at her cell phone and sighed. “Is it just me, or has the cell signal in town gone to crap lately?”
Sitting across from her, Emily and Tina looked at each other and smiled. Tina narrowed her eyes at Claire and smiled wickedly. “Quit changing the subject, hooker, and tell us about Brandon Merryweather.”
“Yeah.” Tina joined in against her. She was staring hard at Claire, twirling her straw in her drink. The three of them were sitting in a booth at The Lumberjack Café. It wasn’t very crowded, mostly with older folks, and the girls had the corner to themselves. Tina laughed. “Spill it, Moody. Besides that pillow Albert, you’re the only other person to exchange more than two words with the new morsel.”
Claire sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Then stuck her tongue out at her friends. Some friends. “He’s nice.”
Emily laughed and made a lewd face. “I’ll say he’s nice.”
Rain Of Stone (The Merryweather Chronicles Book 1) Page 5
