by Jane West
The school was only the icing on the cake. My dream seemed to have kicked off the day with a smashing splash. Despite how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the edginess.
It started sweetly. I sensed that I was at school by the stretch of lockers lining the hallway. A tall boy with a dimpled smile had greeted me, offering to carry my books. I returned the smile, thinking he was cute, though, there was a blur encircling his face. He was faceless. It was more of a sense than visualizing his features.
Apart from his hazy face, I noted a ring on his finger. Funny, I thought. The ring was very clear to me. The stones were quite remarkable in size, gaudy black diamond's out-lining an eye, encrusted in a bed of yellow diamonds. How odd I thought. Why would someone wear such an ugly ring?
As the dream progressed, the faceless boy took my hand leading me down the hall. I sensed calmness with him as if I knew him. He'd struck up a conversation, though his words appeared muffled. I strained to listen. Passed the blur, I watched his lips move, reminding me of one of those old silent films.
We came to a halt at a door. The boy opened it, gesturing for me to enter. I followed his lead thinking we were entering class. Aimless chatter began to evade my mind.
When I drew my eyes away from the faceless boy, the noise stopped, and I gasped.
Without warning, the room's temperature dropped as chills spread over my arms. Instinctively, I hugged my waist, shivering as I stood amidst shadows, looming over me.
The air in my lungs had escaped as I stood there as frightened. The students had vanished and in their place stood thirteen men veiled in blood-colored robes, gathered in a circle, and chanting an eerie song. I couldn't make out the language.
I froze. I sensed that I'd stumbled upon a secret meeting. I looked back at the boy, but to my horror, he'd gone. I was alone, and panic charged like a racehorse.
I felt a sudden urge to step out from the shadows into the dim light. After a few steps, I paused, carefully eyeing the robed men.
Strangely, I'd escaped their notice. Their attention appeared focused on an obscured object in the center of the circle.
All at once, I had to see what held their interest. I slowly edged my way through the red sea of robes. The closer I got to the center, the more my struggle to pass deepened. I pushed and shoved, but the robes weren't parting. My heart hammered against my chest. I thought I was going to die.
Then all of a sudden, the men stepped aside, allowing me to pass. I swallowed down my panic and eased my way through the maze of red.
Once I reached the center, my gaze lowered and unexpectedly, my breath caught in my throat. Horrified, I began screaming, but my voice caught in my throat.
At that moment, my alarm exploded, shattering fragments of my dream into a million and pieces. My eyes flew open as I bolted to a sitting position.
Covered in sweat, my lungs labored for air. I peered around the room, confused for a second by my surroundings.
My eyes rested on a thin stream of sunlight filtering through a small gap in the curtain. The soft glow comforted me as my lungs filled with air.
A moment had passed before I gained my senses. My breathing finally settled. The dream had returned tenfold. The night of my father's death, when I was merely eight, was the beginning of the dreams. I'd been haunted by them since.
I didn't know if the dreams were a connection to my dad or by chance. For whatever reason, the dreams left me shaking.
I inhaled a sharp breath as I dragged myself out of bed and headed to shower. I had a big day ahead, delivering papers and tackling a new school.
I dreaded this day. I'd rather gouge my eyes out than face a new school. I had to keep reminding myself this was my last year. Then I'd never have to step foot inside a high school again. That little slice of hope was what kept me going forward.
After I dressed, I begrudgingly went downstairs. The second my foot touched the first step, I smelled coffee. Oh, brother! I rolled my eyes. Sara was home.
Once I entered the small kitchen, she turned to me smiling. She was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee.
“Good morning!” She smiled far too brightly.
“Morning,” I mumbled, heading straight for my coffee mug.
“Thought I'd be here for your first day of school,” Sara appeared to be in one of her highs. I'd take her happy-go-lucky frame-of-mind any day over her dark, I-want-to-cut-your-throat moods.
“Thanks.” Cutting Sara a quick glance, I focused on pouring myself a cup of coffee and then grabbed a spoon from the drawer. I doused two spoonfuls of sugar and headed for the fridge hoping I'd find creamer. I opened the door as the light spilled over onto my face. My eyes widened with disbelief. “Sweet,” my voice sang, “Creamer!” I snatched the bottle up. I had a feeling the day was going to be all sunshine and smiles until I heard thunder.
Quickly I padded over to the window and peered outside. My heart sank. “Crap! Crap! Crap! Damn! Damn! Damn,” I chanted with fury.
“The forecast predicted rain today.” Sara tossed over her shoulder as she flipped the page of the newspaper.
“Great,” I huffed, still staring out the window. Dark gray clouds bruised the sky as far as I could see. I flopped down at the kitchen table, stewing over my day ahead. I was totally unprepared. No raincoat, no rubber boots. My reputation was already doomed. I could hear the cluster of voices wafting through the halls at school singing that song by Bobby Bare, Marie Laveau, “Another Man Done Gone!”
Just kill me!
Sara drew my attention back to her, “Gotta get ready for work, myself.” Then without another word, she turned to leave.
“Hey,” I called out. “How are you getting to work?” My eyes latched onto her back.
Sara tossed over her shoulder, “I have a boyfriend with a car.”
I gaped at her as she left the kitchen. That was wrong in so many ways. Although, instead of speaking my mind I swallowed my ire, I had other things to concern myself with than letting Sara rile my temper.
I quickly downed the last bit of coffee and pulled myself from the table. I snatched up my hoodie and made my way out the door. I was already wishing this day was over. I expect it to be just kicks and giggles.
* * *
An endeavor ended, and a new adventure began as I walked my first steps passed the double doors of Tangi High.
A brush of warm air splashed my face. The warmth felt good, although it did little to comfort me. My first day was utterly a disaster. A rag doll looked better than I did. My reputation just went down the pipes before I even had a chance.
Stares targeted my back as I left puddles in my trail as I searched for a quick get-away to the nearest restroom. I was a disaster, hair knotted in tangles and my clothes clung to my body like a second skin.
A couple of whistles shot at me and laughter followed. It wasn't a compliment, but a jab. By the loud squeaking of my shoes, going unnoticed appeared to be a wash. I was louder than the Treme Brass Band.
Kill me!
Finally, I spotted the girl's restroom. Hurriedly, I rushed past the door and ducked inside. I wanted to paper dry myself before I registered. I made my way to the sinks. Before I commenced my futile attempt of mopping up the excess, I winced when I heard the swish of the door opening. Two girls passed by me, chatting about some hot new boy. I heard one of the girls say that she was already in love with him. I laughed to myself, shaking my head. Some girls are just plum silly.
On the bright side, the two girls were totally in their zone. My presence completely slipped past their notice.
I turned back to my dilemma, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I sighed, grabbing up several clumps of paper towels, sopping up the remaining water from my hair. I snatched a hair-band from my book bag and wrung my hair up in a ponytail. I huffed, looking at my pathetic reflection. I was a mess. I shrugged off my waterlogged hoodie and tied it around my waist.
The weather had dropped several degrees, making the rain's bite worse than the North Po
le. My hands felt like ice icicles. I hit the hand-dryer button several times. The warm air soothed my stiff fingers. The numbness was loosening, and the feeling was slowly returning.
I was a bit put off at Sara. I think it wouldn't hurt if she missed a nail appointment or two. I needed proper wear for the unpredictable weather this hellhole presented. Since it was her bright idea to move here, buying me a raincoat was a fair trade. She owed me that much.
This crazy town kept a constant cloud cover, the exact opposite of West Texas. In Sweetwater, it rained maybe twice a year. The land was dry and meager, mostly flat with a few mesquite trees. I sighed. I missed the prairie dogs and the bright stars. I withdrew a sigh as I leaned against the sink. The two girls had already left, and I had a moment to myself.
I thought about calling Beck and Laurie. I missed them and the fun we shared. My secrets were safe with them. Those two were loyal to a fault. Best friends ever! I wiped a tear away. Maybe I'd call them when I got a phone. I kept teetering on that idea. Hearing their voices would only make me hate this place more. I let out a long sigh, heavy-hearted and chin down. I shouldered my book bag and headed out.
I ventured down the hall pushing through shoulder-to-shoulder students. Loud twaddle jacketed the air. I stretched my neck, peering through the swarm for the office. It had to be here somewhere. After fighting through the haze of heads, passed the double doors, I spotted registration on my left.
I pushed opened the heavy glass door and approached the counter. Students were flying in and out like crazy.
I noted several students huddling in clumps by the lockers. Most of the students here grew up in this town. In small towns, new kids usually struggled to fit in with the clicks. I'd seen it a hundred times, newbie's becoming an outcast like a LEOPARD.
I breathed out an edgy sigh and cleared my throat, eyeballing the woman behind the counter. Obviously, she used hair color. The scarlet-red screamed volumes. I reckoned she was the school register. “Excuse me!” I cleared my throat as I stepped up to the counter.
“What you need, honey,” the mid-aged woman's words were rushed, almost breathless.
“Yes, ma'am, I need to enroll. I have my transcript and ID.” I pulled out my papers and handed them over to her.
“Mercy me! You're late.” The woman looked at me as if I'd committed a carnal sin.
“Yeah, sorry,” I swallowed, feeling uncomfortable. “My mom couldn't come. She started her new job at Mudbug Café. She's a waitress.”
Without another utter, she grabbed my papers and examined the forms. Sharply, she cut her gaze back at me and ordered. “Have a seat!” The woman's tone was prickly.
No argument, I understood her annoyance. I should've preregistered before now. Still, geez, did she have to sneer at me too?
I blinked at the craggy woman. “Oh, Okay.”
She quickly turned from me, heading off to a desktop computer in the back.
Dread washed over me as I watched. Sure as I stood, trouble was up ahead. I could feel it in my bones.
When I turned from the counter to have a seat, I smacked into a student. The girl's books went flying. I stood there gaping, startled. “Good grief!” I frowned. The chick was up in my grill. What a weirdo! I paused a moment, eyeing all the books scattered at my feet. I decided to be polite. It was my first day. “Hmm, sorry, I didn't see you.” My voice sounded flat as I bent down to help.
The girl squatted to the floor, gathering her books. “It's okay.” She smiled broadly. “Hey, you're the new girl that the town's been talking about!”
The girl's voice was far too chipper, and her smile stretched to the moon.
“The town's talking about me?” I handed her a book and stood up. I shoved my hands in my pockets. Something about this chick's vibe made me uneasy.
“I hope our little town has been good to you?”
I shrugged. “So far, so good.” If I told her how I really felt, she'd have the whole school throwing spit-wades at me. Her type, I could spot a hundred miles away. The greeter girl; very bubbly, way too much neon green, a few pounds overweight, and the smell of desperation to ignite the fuel that pushed her into the overly excitable girl.
She tossed that sugarcoated smile that I'd seen so many times at previous schools. “You should come and hang out with me. I can give you the scoop on all the juicy gossip and who's cool and who's not.” Somehow, I kept from eyes rolling her. The last thing I wanted was starring in my own lynching.
I feigned a smile, “Oh, how special!”
Okay, I was mocking her a tiny bit.
“What's your schedule? Maybe we have classes together.”
I nodded toward the counter. “I'm still registering.”
“Wow! You're late.”
“That's what I keep hearing.” I forced a smile.
She laughed kind of oddly. “You're a rebel!”
I shrugged, not replying.
She reached over me and snatched up a flyer about the next pep rally. “Well, I hope we have a class together. If not, I'll catch you at lunch. I'll introduce you to the pack.”
“Cool,” I simply answered.
“I'm Sally Freeman.”
“Stevie Ray,” I replied.
Her nose quickly crinkled. “Isn't that a boy's name?”
“It's a nickname.” I got that question a lot. It was getting redundant.
“Bless your heart! You must get picked on a lot having a boy's name.” She tossed a tight smile. “Gotta go! Later!”
“Yeah, later,” I answered dryly. I watched the chick push past the glass door and disappear into the thronging students. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something off with that girl.
I started to settle in a chair when the woman behind the counter popped out from nowhere, calling my name. “Miss Ray!” I flinched, bouncing to my feet, facing the drill sergeant with the nametag, Mrs. Joan Brown.
I stepped up to the counter. I felt my face pale. “Yes, ma'am.” Showing respect might get me off with a slap on the wrist. I smiled brightly into the woman's lemon face.
“Young lady, your transcript shows you've been to five different schools in the last year. Can you explain this?”
I heard the shock and judgment in her high-pitched voice.
I winced inside. Crap! Can't I get one freaking break? “My mother has to move a lot for her job,” I answered sweetly. I hate questions. Always questions. “I can call her if you like.” I batted my lashes. Of course, I lied.
Mrs. Brown looked down at my papers and then snapped her gaze back to me. “I thought you said your mother's a waitress?”
Uh-oh! Caught lying, “Uh, that's right, the insurance job didn't work out.” I squirmed under her heated gaze.
The middle-aged woman's mouth pinched as she raked her scorching eyes over me.
I reckoned she saw through my fib.
“Where is your mother?”
I held my hands clasped behind my back and slightly widened my eyes just enough to appear innocent. I had this act down to a T. “My mom couldn't come today. Conflicting schedule,” I smiled, holding my breath that she didn't call my bluff. I didn't have Sara's new number. Sara wasn't much for sharing.
Mrs. Brown's frown went code red. “Wait here, miss,” she snapped and before I could protest, she torpedoed down a short hall, leading to Bumtuck Egypt for all I knew.
“Crap,” I mumbled under my breath. This wasn't fair. Why didn't they drag Sara down here and ask her all these questions? It was Sara's fault. Why should I take the fall?
I could walk out. I bit my bottom lip, stretching my eyes in the direction Mrs. Brown had darted off to. Eighteen was legal. I could home school. Then I thought, no! I needed a scholarship to pay for my college and a high GPA to get into the better universities. With a reluctant sigh, I planted my feet, waiting to get hauled into the dungeon master's chamber, the principal.
After several meltdowns inside my brain, my head snapped up when I heard high heels clacking across the tile flo
or, moving speedily along, approaching my way.
In the next beat, the red torpedo was aiming at me. “Ms. Ray!” Mrs. Brown brusquely spoke, a bit winded. “Come with me, please.” I loved the way she bit out that last word, please. There was nothing pleasing about the walk of doom. Dead student walking, I huffed inwardly.
I followed her fast-paced steps down a short hall, and we stopped abruptly at the last door.
I grimaced at the sign on the door as it read, 'Principal, Dr. Ed Van'.
The hairs on my neck bristled when Mrs. Brown opened the door. Right away, I got a strong whiff of a pipe. Memories of my childhood flashed through my mind. My dad smoked a pipe. Even though it was a terrible habit, I enjoyed the pleasant smell. Sometimes Dad would take me to his small office in town. I'd sit on the floor coloring while he met with clients. He was a well-liked man in the community.
To this day, I associated the familiar smell with Dad.
Mrs. Brown jarred my attention, announcing me, “Dr. Van, this is the young lady you asked to see, Stephanie Ray.” The receptionist's voice appeared fisted with unease.
“Come, Miss Ray. Have a seat.” He gruffly pointed to one of the wingback chairs sitting in front of his desk.
Instantly, I realized this was not your typical principal's office. The chairs were dark brown, real leather, and his desk reminded me of something you'd see in the Oval Office at the White House. Dark mahogany finished with tooled leather inserts on top and brass fittings all around the edge.
I thought it was a bit unconscionable to keep such an elaborate piece of furniture on a principal's salary.
“Yes, sir.” I settled in the chair on the left. I placed my hands in my lap, hiding my jitters. Signs of weakness always snared the rabbit. Something Dad used to say.
“Well, Miss Ray, it has come to my attention you have quite a list of attending schools. I forget the number. How many are there?”
Instantly, I didn't like this man. I answered, “Five.”
A sneer played across his face. “Can you tell me how you've managed to keep your GPA at 3.9?”
