RielleMature

       First days of school are always the same, yet each year they’re overdone and played out as if they will mean anything more than the last. This year I’m not in the mood. After a summer wasted on a guy who proved to be more into certain other aspects of a relationship, aspects I wasn’t interested in doing, I couldn’t care less. And just for the record, I’m not talking about sex; sex would be something normal to expect -not that I would do that either but, still. With not having spoken to him in over two weeks and counting, all that today means is that keeping up the silence will be harder to do than ever. In all my years at Everemore High, I’ve never had less than two classes with Luke. Rielle Harris, Luke Harrison. Whoever made up the stupid rule of alphabetically placing students into their classes should be fired; I can’t handle this.

            Tall and extremely white; Everemore high stands off the corner of peach and main, the embodiment of our town’s name. Most of the traffic here isn’t from the residents but, from travelers daring to sneak a peek at what it is that goes on inside of it. About two years ago, a girl named Amber Canes was murdered inside of the school and ever since then Everemore High has permanently secured its place on the map. To FOX4 our school is the breeding ground for killers; to CNN, we are an abomination. The truth is that our town has a population of less than six hundred; sure we may be a little on the unusual side but, harboring a serial killing janitor with razor sharp teeth just isn’t the case. At least not anymore, he was let go.

             When my family first made the move here to Everemore, everyone but, my dad, was a little hesitant; even back before the murder, this town had its fair share of rough indiscretions. All of which my father chose to keep a secret until the day we moved in and he had no other choice, but to tell us. Everemore; on the outside looking in, it’s just a small town with a school that could easily be mistaken for having its own zip code solely for its size. But, if you were to come and stay a while, it wouldn’t take long for you to see the people here aren’t exactly normal; they could definitely start a stir in what should be classified as fiction and non.

            On a dark, starry night, Everemore isn’t the sort of place parents are wildly enthusiastic about letting their kids venture off to. When I say this place is a safe haven for certain people to escape to, I don’t mean it’s because they think aliens walk on the earth, or that robots are taking over the planet and this is the only place that is hidden from their freaky sonar thingies, which strangely, is not such an uncommon thing for us to hear. If you were to ever turn on the television and catch the news; they always have something new to say. The truth, in earnest, is that Everemore High is a school for monsters but, they prefer the name Children of the Night; humans enter at your own risk.

            Those few 'indiscretions' were all because us humans became a little too curious about things we were never meant to know existed, but now that we do, things around here have become a little more tight niched. For starters, full moons and bleeding are strictly forbidden. Full moons for obvious reasons, but bleedings because a select few Vampires got a little too out of hand. Why humans would willingly cut themselves for the sole purpose of letting someone suck their blood, I will never understand; we even had a debate about it in my class one time when Hannibal decided to share his weekend activities. Well, his name really isn’t Hannibal but, Martin Lee. In Vampire terms, he falls a little on the squatty side, so to him this makes up for it; using a scary name, which for the record isn’t scary at all.

            I have to admit, when we first came to Everemore, the mere idea of steeping foot into the school made me want to pee myself but, now I can see what my dad had in mind. Coming here wasn’t to chase after some crazy fantasy of becoming a child of the night; it was so that we wouldn’t grow up oblivious to the fact that there are things that go bump in the night. At least now if they take over the world and make the human race their slaves, my father can rest assured we were warned. Although I have a feeling if we were to ever get close to the point of that, my father would have us all first on the list to make the turn, regardless of what my mother had to say about it.

            “Rielle Harris,” Mrs. Sage called out from behind her desk; the hulking mass of its dark wooden frame covering all but, the small top of her hat. I watched for a moment as the light from a dusty chandelier, hanging slightly off centered, cast a golden glow along the black board. “Ms. Harris?” she repeated. Luke kicked my chair.

 “Here,” I finally said, and flipped a hand through my hair. Luke would pick the only seat in the class, which just so happened to be behind me. I’m not going to even acknowledge him, I thought to myself; the thought of him even this close made my head spin. Just because the classes are alphabetically assigned doesn’t mean the seats have to be.

      “Luke Harrison?” Mrs. Sage continued; a few of her bright red tuffs only now visible as she came around the side of the desk. Her dark brown eyes, which looked more black than brown, peered at me over pair of lavender reading glasses that rest atop the tip of her nose.

 “Here.” Luke responded, his voice calm and easy.

 Mrs. Sage paused briefly for a moment after, and then moved on; her eyes finally peeling off of me as she went back to the names printed on her papers. “Shallese Iszel?” Mrs. Sage called next, her words broken and soft, as if she didn’t trust herself. A short girl with almond eyes, sitting along the front, quickly came to her relief. 

"Here," I caught her smile from the side, her teeth fine tipped and razor like. I shivered and sat forward against my seat. My fingers drumming against my desk to a beat I cant recall.  "You said it right. Like Shaul-eese." The girl continued.

"Of course it is." Mrs. Sage cleared her throat, her hand moving to her chest as if to steady herself. "Now, moving on."

                                               ***********************************

 “So do you have any classes with the new guy?” Clovey, my best friend since I first moved here, asked halfway through lunch. Her flowing, peachie colored, dress made my outfit feel rather less than appealing. For her, fashion came almost as simple as breathing; I do my shopping manikin style.

 “No but, he’s super-hot.” I said; sarcasm dripping from my words, and then forked another bite of my taco salad. My version of a healthier meal; Clovey’s always saying I need to eat more greens.

             Clovey sat up. “You saw him?” She yelled. “When, where?”

 I forked another bite, and then swallowed the one I was currently chewing. “No, Hannah St. Claire is in my English class; lucky me. Apparently their parents are old friends, and he and his father joined them for dinner one night.” I smiled.

 “Oh, awesome.” Clovey sat back in her chair, he tone less than pleased. Her auburn colored hair curling up over the tips of her shoulders as she crossed her arms across her chest. “So she is practically planning the wedding, the poor guy.”     

"Pretty much."

All of the sudden a cloud shifted through a skylight window; Clovey’s skin sparkling like diamonds now in the mirrored image of the aluminum table. I could see it in her face as she quickly reached for her jacket, although the humidity in this cracker box of a cafeteria was almost enough to make you sweat. Clovey has always been embarrassed of what she is; a Fae. A few years back she tried to explain it to me but I don’t care what she says, having my skin glow, literally, is in no way comparable to your average pimple. At least hers doesn’t make someone want to throw up.

Looking across the room; Luke was sitting atop a lunch table, spoon feeding Lunar, our schools head cheerleader and only female werewolf, something out of a can. I cringed seeing the green label; IAMS dog food, and flash back to the time when our old family dog, sneaky, came up to give me a quick kiss and some of the remnants got in my mouth. The taste was unlike anything I would willingly choose to consume, though I guess, for a dog it wouldn’t matter. Compared to other werewolves, Lunar oddly favored to her human side more so than the others; one time in Spanish class I watched this kid Nick go all out wolfish just to itch his ear by using the bare of his foot. After that, little things they would do became something to expect but, Lunar isn’t like that. I watch as he spoons her another mouthful; well, at least she wasn't.

“So, how was it?” Clovey asked. “Did he seem upset?”

Looking down at my food, the thought of taking another bite made my stomach clinch up in knots. I knew who she was talking about without her having to say the name. “I think that’s your answer, right there.” I said; tossing my plate into the trash as the lunch lady made her way over to our table.

 “Maybe,” Clovey said, her fork twirling between her fingers; a piece of salad barely hanging on. “I guess break ups would be easy for him. He’s probably been through a bunch of them. You know, with being a vampire and all.”

A vampire, I thought to myself. The word itself, cold and lifeless. I never saw Luke as a Vampire, other than for the obvious vamp-like qualities; cold skin, pointy teeth. To me he was the only guy who ever made any real effort in getting to know me. I am a human in a school full of fictional characters; by nature we aren’t meant to get along. Honestly if it wasn’t for what happened during summer, that would be me he was feeding. Of course, it wouldn’t be IAMS but, that’s beside the point.

“Hell-o?” Clovey said, her voice as sharp as glass. Mason had just sat down, our other best friend. Only he isn’t a Child of the Night, just a plain old human like me. His moving here was pre-Amber and the towns rising publicity. Where as my dad claims to have his reasons, Mason's family was oblivious when they came and in some ways still are today. “Where have you been Mr. Mischievous? I called you all night!”

 “Sorry my mom made me go shopping with her again,” he said, then proceeded to make a motion as if he had just eaten something rotten. “I swear she hates me.”

             Mason leaned into Clovey’s salad and stole a cucumber slice. She ignored it and continued, “Well, next time let somebody know! Everemore isn’t safe for you guys during the late hours, you know that.”

             “Yes ma’am.” He smiled.“It will never happen again.”

 Clovey slapped at his arm. “I mean it!” she yelled.

 “Okay, I get it.” He said. Clenching my stomach I sat back. Mason's hand rubbing gently the spot on his arm where she had hit him; as if it had actually hurt him, then he pause briefly in between another slice of cucumber to add, “So have you guys seen the new guy yet? I hear he’s totally hot!”

The End

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