by V. L. Holt
I wanted to melt into a puddle under my desk, but then it would look like someone peed their pants. Like Jimmy Kellogg did back in kindergarten on the first day of school.
He continued.
“I’d say on a scale of one to ten, I’m about a 9 for excited to have moved here,” Then he turned around as Mrs. Dietrich cleared her throat and announced the pop quiz.
Sarcasm much? I thought to myself.
I may or may not have passed the pop quiz.
At lunch I met up with Crady again. I felt like a total heel but didn’t really know what to do to change things. I was sure I had screwed up any chance at a friendship with William. Crady was going to kill me, if only because my screw-up would have ruined any of her chances to get to know him better too.
She stared me down until I sat my tray on the table. “Spill it. Now,” She said.
I blew air out of my mouth and opened my milk. After a long swig, I turned to her. “I think he’s royally pissed at me.”
“Who is?” A low timber asked from behind me. I’m sure my eyes must have popped out of my sockets judging by the expression on Crady’s face.
I mouthed William? Crady nodded slowly.
I turned the other way. “You.”
He gave an indelicate snort, although there was nothing delicate about this paragon of male virtue. “Maybe,” He sat his two trays down and then himself.
He was enormous sitting right next to me. His shoulders were as broad as my mom’s recliner. He was a full head taller than I, and I glanced at his hands as they curled around the cafeteria Spork. He may as well have been using a toothpick to eat. He started digging in, and I think I might have gaped for a full minute. He put the food away like it was his last meal on earth. I was not one of these girls who picked at her food, either. I was impressed. Or possibly mortified. Crady and I exchanged glances.
My cousin Mick came in next and sat across from Crady. “Hey,” was all he said. He silently inspected the new guy and dismissed him as not a girl. He started in on his lunch.
I shook myself out of my astonished stupor. “So William. This is my adopted cousin Mick Klipper, and this is my friend Crady Johnson. We’ve been best friends, since, I don’t know. Little Deers Preschool?” We laughed together.
William leaned over his tray so he could see her better. He gave Mick a small nod, too. After swallowing, he said, “A pleasure,” Then he went back to his meal.
Crady and I were used to sitting alone. Mick didn’t count, because half the time, he was trying to schmooze his way over to the Ticks’ table. We weren’t antisocial per se, but just hadn’t truly connected with other peers. And this being a rural community, some of our peers had dropped out already to pursue things like farming or factory work. Yeah, Deer Fjord wasn’t exactly brimming with employment opportunities. Which brought me to my next question for William.
“Where does your dad work?” I daintily bit from my meal, feeling like a bird next to the mountain heaping shovelfuls of vegetables into his mouth.
“He works from home. On the internet,” He said between bites. At least he had manners, even though his second meal was almost gone. I myself like to get two milks. He had four.
“That’s cool,” I said. “My mom does too. She does graphic design for websites and junk. What does your dad do?” I was trying to make up for lost conversation from earlier today, since I had so rudely left him to fend for himself.
“Stuff,” He finished his last milk.
Crady and I looked at each other with quizzical brows.
“Well, that’s great,” I finally said. “Hey, I have to get to class, but thanks for sitting with us. Crady?” I stood and waited for Crady to join me. We both had world history next.
Our heads bent together as we left the cafeteria. Crady whispered. “Could he be any more vague?”
“Could he have eaten another lunch?” I asked her back.
We giggled until we got to class. Then we giggled some more, and then William came in and handed his class schedule to Mr. McMillan and winked at me. We stopped giggling.
I squeezed my hands into fists so tight that I was certain I was drawing blood in the shape of crescent moons into my palms. I would not blush. I would not blush.
Crady kicked my shin from the next desk over, “Stop blushing!” She whispered to me.
I looked at my textbook and refused to follow William’s progress across the classroom. There were no open desks by me, so I didn’t have to worry. I read the chapter heading in my book a couple times and waited for Mr. McMillan to start his lecture. I heard scuffling feet and shuffling backpacks, and a pad of notepaper hitting the desk right next to me. Nathan was no longer sitting there; William was.
I stared at him, frowning a bit. He mirrored my expression, nodded and turned his attention back to Mr. McMillan as if he was the most interesting teacher on the planet, which I knew for a fact was not even remotely true.
Mr. McMillan introduced the chapter on Ancient Armies and Ancient Warfare. A total yawn for me, but I could tell some of the guys in class were interested.
McMillan began, “Can anyone tell me the difference between modern and ancient warfare?”
Timmy Peters, who used to wet his pants whenever he was asked to write on the board, called out, “Casualties!”
“Yes, definitely. Modern warfare has succeeded in creating less casualties…or at least, less civilian deaths,” McMillan wrote the word on the blackboard. “What else?”
The captain of the football team shouted out, “Weapons,”
“Of course. You have your broadswords versus smart bombs and what have you,” He wrote weapons on the board.
“Land,” Someone else said.
“What do you mean?” The teacher asked.
Sydney Parks, one of the Ticks, elaborated. “Ancient war was over like, land and junk. Now there aren’t really countries trying to overtake other countries. As much,” She ended with a giggle, as if she didn’t care if she sounded stupid, which she didn’t, but it was like she didn’t want to take that chance.
“Okay, got it,” Mr. McMillan wrote that down too. “What else?”
“Politics,” I said.
“Expound, Ms. Burrows,”
I cleared my throat. “Well, ancient warfare was about expansion and dominion. Like Sydney was talking about, kinda. Nowadays, it’s more about which government is ticking off which government. So we’ve got terrorists claiming to be from a given country, and then our government has to retaliate. Like that,” I refrained from giggling, but I could see Sydney’s point in adding one. I felt sweaty and squirmy.
William spoke up, “I disagree,”
What? What was wrong with what I said? I wondered if this was about leaving him at the office.
He continued. “Ancient warfare was also about politics. There was expansion and dominion of course, but it was still a game of politics. There is no difference between ancient and modern warfare on that point. The ruling classes still use the grunts to forward their political agendas. In fact, that aspect of warfare hasn’t changed at all. The powers that be are only too happy to use the muscle of their country to fight their wars for them. You can bet if we armed the Senators and told them to go to war, there would be a lot less warfare going on,”
My dad was ex-military, and even though he left us, I felt defensive of him, or at least...of military men and women in general. I wasn’t going to let Mr. William-Tall-Dark-and-Handsome get away with trashing the military as if they were mindless drones. “Excuse me, William. But the United States Armed Forces are not in the habit of starting wars. We leave that to the despots and tyrants of the world. We just go in and mop things up.”
Mr. McMillan just stood at the front of the class and listened. He liked to encourage critical thinking in his students, and an in-class argument about the topic of the day was golden.
“I’m not saying the United States is starting wars. I’m only saying that powerful people use soldiers to further their end
s,” William said to me.
I huffed at him.
He went on to the class in general. “I’m just saying that the politics of ancient versus modern warfare are not that different.”
Mr. McMillan held his chalk up to the board and looked at all of us. When no one else added anything, he went ahead and wrote ‘politics’ followed by a question mark. Then he told us to open to the chapter and gave us our reading assignment.
I was kind of irritated, because people at school were not in the habit of disagreeing with me. Maybe I’m a little bossy about stuff; I never thought about it before. At least McMillan put my answer on the board.
Crady just sniggered at me from across the aisle.
That wasn’t the end of it. Much to my chagrin, William was in every single one of my classes after lunch. I felt my face flaming by the end of the school day. I was so flushed in fact, that in last period, my teacher suggested I go to the school nurse to see if I was getting a fever.
I snuck a glance at William who looked at me pensively. Did he know that his proximity, his occasional wink, his gaze, his disagreeing with me, was causing me to blush like the spring’s first rose of the season?
I happily left class and headed to the nurse’s office. Anything to get a break from his scrutiny. Light footsteps fell in behind me.
“The teacher said I could escort you, in case you fainted or something,” William said matter of factly.
I wondered if he was assigned or had volunteered for the dubious honor. “Oh my gosh, you are insufferable!” I growled at him.
“What? I thought we were getting along pretty well. Other than the whole office thing this morning, and the debate in world history…” He took my elbow. His giant hand entirely eclipsed my elbow and part of my forearm as well.
“It’s not that. You’re just…how is it that you’re in all of my classes?” I really just wanted to ask him how he had the power to make me blush so foolishly all the time. I looked down at his hand too, trying to get him to remove it.
He chose to ignore my not-so-subtle hint.
“I used my powers of persuasion on the school counselor,” He shrugged like it was no big deal. And he as much as admitted that he did it on purpose.
I stopped in the middle of the hall and turned to face him. “Why?” I frowned at him, confusion evident, I’m sure, all over my face.
“Because I can’t..,” He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t finish his sentence, just shrugged. He didn’t make a move toward me. He didn’t give my body a once-over. He didn’t laugh or grin or stick his tongue out at me. He just looked at me with those soulful brown eyes and the most serious expression.
I felt my face combust, and along with it my temper. “Stop it! Just stop doing that!” I had to shout at him this time.
He stopped me with a gentle tug on my arm. “What am I doing?” He asked, earnestly curious.
Should I tell him? Yes I should.
I stepped closer to him, so that I could use my softest voice. “You’re making me blush. Why do you think Mrs. Harper sent me to the school nurse? I don’t have a frickin’ fever. You’ve been making me blush all darn day and I can’t turn it off. Happy?” I stepped back, feeling the red just burn up my cheeks and my forehead and across the back of my neck. I wanted flames to just shoot off my face and burn him up. I was angry and embarrassed.
He just looked at me, studying me, allowing his gaze to caress my face, my ears, and my neck. He nodded slowly. He still didn’t smile. He didn’t seem pleased or mean or confused. Then he looked into my eyes again. “I guess I didn’t notice, but I can see how that would make you feel. I’m not trying to make you blush, if it makes you feel better.”
He started walking toward the nurse’s office again, and I followed, simply because that was where my hall pass said I needed to be.
The nurse determined that I did have a low-grade fever, and said I should go ahead and go home.
I just shook my head, royally confused. I knew why I felt hot, and it had nothing to do with a virus. But any excuse to go home was a good one, so I went to my locker.
Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome followed me, and I kind of just gave up. If he wanted to tag behind me like a gosh darn puppy dog all the day long, who was I to stop him? It’s not like I felt threatened by him. Unless fearing that my heart might beat out of my chest or my skin might spontaneously ignite counted as threatening. ‘Cause that was definitely going on.
“So you’re quite the expert on ancient warfare, huh?” I asked him as I scooped books out of the bottom of my locker. I expected him to answer me right away, but instead there was silence.
When I turned to look up at him, his gaze was far away. I waved my hand in front of his face and he blinked.
“Sorry. I, uh, like to study history,” He offered to carry my book bag.
“No thanks, I got it. I have a paper route. I’m actually pretty buff,” I said, not caring if I sounded like I was bragging.
William snorted. “Ever run into anything on your bike?” He asked me without a hitch.
“No, except this morning I almost…” I gasped. “How did you know I ride a bike? Wait…are you freaking spying on me?” He must have witnessed my embarrassing near-collision with his moving truck! My pitch hit the ceiling. I thought I might actually freak out in the middle of the school hallway. What happened to my balance? My old world and my trends and my cool gangster swag? William was turning me into a hot mess!
William started chuckling. Then he laughed, and his deep voice just rolled with laughter and it reverberated throughout the tile hallway and bounced against the lockers and sounded so full of life and abundance and vitality that I couldn’t help but laugh too, and maybe, just maybe, fall a little bit into him.
7
Zarastrid’s Log Day 89
Year of Our Loch 107
Zainel perfected the potions. It is the eve of the genesis of our Warrior race. I suspect I am not the only one who cannot sleep. The girls have been told that they have been chosen for a special purpose, and that it comes to fruition tomorrow. They appear to be excited, but cautiously so. I don’t doubt Agnes has warned them that all is not as it seems. But I haven’t hinted at her future at all, so I wouldn’t know what she could have told them.
He anticipates the Battle Spawn to be able to do remarkable things. He infused his potions with the speed of the wasp, the strength of the ox, the vision of the eagle, the scent of the wolf. He also used the regenerative powers of some strange reptiles he found near the Loch where we were born.
I understand there is supposed to be some sort of ability regarding their vision, but I was woolgathering when he explained it.
I admit his magicks and sciences do not interest me. He natters on and on about this being the penultimate creation of all time.
Nevermind. My brethren work, and I plan, and soon enough we will have government seats eating out of our hands.
8
He followed me out to the parking lot. I stopped and looked at all the cars and my shoulders slumped. “Dang it. Crady drove me this morning,” I started walking.
“I’ll drive you,” He said.
I quirked my lips as I was thinking. “No, it’s all right. I can walk,” I kept walking and looked over my shoulder. “You really should probably go back to class. I didn’t see Nurse Smithy give you a pass.”
“I’ll take my chances,” He said. He continued to walk along beside me.
I could not figure this guy out. He wasn’t pushy, like, he wasn’t making me ride with him, and yet he was still getting what he wanted, because he was walking with me. I guess that was the part that I couldn’t figure out; why did he want to be with me?
Why would he want to hang out with me when there were seriously cute girls, like the Ticks, for example? Sure, their conversation might leave a little to be desired, but they were always dressed to the nines (oooh, good one, Mom) and their hair was all that, and they positively exuded…well, I personally wo
uldn’t want to exude what I thought they were exuding…
“Penny for your thoughts?” William’s deep voice intruded into my stream-of-consciousness.
“Ha! Wow, that’s an old phrase,” I answered him with a smile that erupted on my face of its own volition.
He stared at my face expressionless, which was unnerving. Then he smiled right back, and I felt this hitch in my heart. “You never answered my question,” He reminded me.
“That’s because my thoughts are worth WAY more than a penny. I don’t know about the cost of things ‘out east’,” I put air quotes on his evasive answer from earlier, “but thoughts out here in these parts cost at least a ten-spot,” I gave him a cheeky grin and kept on walking.
Before I knew it, a ten dollar bill met my gaze as I stared at the sidewalk.
“Oh no,” I shoved his money back towards him. I gave a humorless laugh. “I should have made it clear. These thoughts are NOT for sale,” I walked faster, not necessarily trying to get away, but certainly feeling uncomfortable with William’s eagerness.
I snuck a look at him again. I’d never met anyone that looked so broody before, in a Mr. Darcy sort of way. He had the whole pirate good looks thing going on. He never really lagged behind either. His stride was so long he had no trouble matching mine.
“How about this, Jane?” He paused, and I looked quickly at him, curious. “I’ll answer any three questions you have for me, if you answer any three I ask of you,” He wiggled his brows at me. The wiggling eyebrows greatly contradicted the humorless expression that he wore for most of the day, other than his outburst of laughter in the hallway.
I couldn’t help but giggle a little bit. “Hmm. Okay. I go first.”
He nodded solemnly.
I stopped my walk and gave him a good hard look.
He never flinched at my unwavering gaze.
I frowned a little too, trying to think of a good one. “I’ll start out easy. Where exactly are you from?”
“Toledo, Ohio,”
“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” I ribbed him. “So do I get to go again, or is it your turn?”
