by Kylie Key
Alex and I rummaged in the big wooden chest, my heart racing, as I knew this was a great opportunity to let everyone know who Blaire Ashley was. I selected a wide brimmed straw hat and a pretty pink umbrella, opening it over my head hoping it would provide maximum cover.
“Who are you supposed to be?” Alex sniffed out a laugh.
“I dunno, but it looks kinda cute,” I said, a fake Southern accent emerging from my mouth. I twirled the umbrella’s handle and did a little Southern Belle curtsey.
Alex stared for a second, giving me the impression that I looked ridiculous.
“Tell me something about you,” I said hurriedly as Mrs Dornan clapped her hands for attention. Alex seemed to go deaf, picking up a hat and a masquerade mask. Humphh, why hadn’t I seen the mask! That would have been perfect for me, would have totally concealed me. But Alex tossed it back and placed the Napoleon style hat onto his head.
Mrs Dornan briefed the class. “Okay, we have two new students today, so they’re going to introduce each other with an impromptu interview.” She looked over at Alex and me. “Now, remember this is a Theater Arts class, so I’d love to see your flair for drama.”
I couldn’t seem to swallow properly, or breathe, all the students focused on the two of us.
“You go first,” I whispered to Alex, elbowing him, having no idea what I supposed to say.
There was a good ten seconds of silence, when Mrs Dornan announced, “Blaire, you can start us off. Remember you’re introducing the other person to us, so we can get to know them.”
My heart beat accelerated, the umbrella spinning nervously over my shoulder. If I didn’t say something soon, the class would laugh at me. Being laughed at would be humiliating. I had come to River Valley High to avoid humiliation.
“Excuse me, sir” I said, “Could I have your name please.” Inexplicably, the southern accent had returned.
“Alex,” he said. “Alex Lord.” Titters rang from the girls in the crowd, presumably spellbound by his accent. The corners of his mouth turned into a smile upon hearing it.
Distracted by his perfectly pink full lips, I pulled my phone from my pocket—being able to keep your phone in class at RV High was such a novelty—and pretended to type into it.
“So.” I was struggling to come up with my next line. Clearly improvisation was not my thing, though in the past I’d never had trouble talking. “So, I’ll need to take a picture for your identification card.” And before I knew it, I clicked on my camera app and snapped a photo. There were more giggles. “Place of birth?”
“England.”
“Is that England, next to Europe?”
“Yeah,” he said, as if I was an imbecile for asking such a basic question.
“Age?” I asked. Alex rolled his eyes as if I was asking for classified information. “Date of birth?” I repeated loudly and with no-nonsense authority.
“January first, sixteen eighty four,” he huffed. Everyone laughed.
“Reason for being sent to River Valley High in the middle of the semester?”
Alex blinked, straightening the hat, frowning like he was totally irritated. Unable to wait for an answer, I carried on, “So, Lord,” I paused briefly, “Alex, born in the year 1684, you have been banished from your home in England to the small town of River Valley and will serve the next six months here in a foreign country.” I had a sudden burst of inspiration. “As part of your cultural exchange you will be forced to mix with American students and attend American football and soccer games.” I put extra emphasis on the word soccer, making him sniff out a laugh. “In order to graduate you will have to partake in Theater Arts and attend your prom darn-ce in a hired tuxedo.” Everyone laughed at my exaggerated pronunciation, my confidence rising so much that I faced my audience. “Now, I can neither confirm nor deny whether Lord Alex’s birth date and pale skin gives him connections with vampires, but my fellow students,” and suddenly I was speaking in a posh accent, “if you see Lord Alex driving on the wrong side of the street, there’s no need to inform the Queen of England, but do remind him that he is presently in the U. S of A.” Relieved to hear a small round of applause, I gave a curtsey and bow, making my glasses slip down my nose.
“Alex, I don’t mind teaching you to drive on the right side,” a female voice piped up, causing more titters.
“Team Alex!” another girl called.
My frames restricted my vision as I raised my head, but I could clearly see Alex blushing, and to the side Mrs Dornan was nodding and smiling.
“Thank you, Blaire,” she said kindly, but I was wondering who’d made those comments. Was it the blonde with the ponytail? Or the girl with golden blonde highlights? Why was my blood boiling? “I enjoyed that very much. I can see some potential there. Now, Alex? Are you ready?”
I slipped my phone back into my pocket and pushed my glasses up, noticing his cheeks were back to normal color. The students had quietened themselves and I held my breath as I waited for Alex to speak, praying I hadn’t offended him, and that he wasn’t going to embarrass me.
“Okay, lads, lasses,” Alex said, his accent stronger than usual. “I just wanna say in England we drive on the left side, which is actually the right side, and here you drive on the right side, which is the wrong side. So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t run me over if I’m looking the wrong way for traffic. Which I’ve already done since arriving here.”
Everyone laughed, harder than they had for me, a trivial resentment running through me. Of course he’d be more popular than me, he was a foreigner with a sexy accent, and cute.
“Okay, so thanks for blowing my cover, Blaire,” he said. More laughter. “We vampires prefer to assimilate into society undetected. Haven’t you seen Twilight?” I flashed him a sarcastic smile. Hmmph, cute and funny. “It so happens that Blaire here is undercover, too.”
My cheeks exploded into infernos, heat blazing from them. With the umbrella still in my hand, I lowered it to shield my face.
“I mean, why else would two students arrive at a school in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the semester—by the way, we call it a term, not a semester. So, students, I cannot actually divulge any information about Blaire to you. Or I’d have to kill you all.” He gestured with a sweep of his hand towards the crowd, gave a smile and a bow, James Bond style.
Alex’s fans, of which there seemed to be quite a few, clapped, as did I. He’d let me off the hook. I was impressed, though at the same time disappointed. He obviously had no interest in getting to know me at all. That was gut wrenching. Didn’t want to know my full name, my age, my hobbies. Nothing.
Mrs Dornan was babbling on, but I’d temporarily lost my faculties, shuffling to the box to remove my silly hat. I closed the umbrella and went down the stage steps, not aware where Alex was. I scurried to my bag and sipped on my water bottle.
Stop it, I demanded of myself, stop being so sensitive. You dodged a bullet, nobody is any the wiser about you. You’re not here to be flirting with boys, you’re in hiding, trying to be anonymous. It seemed habits were hard to break.
Alex had been welcomed into the circle of the beautiful people, leaving me on the outskirts. Papers were handed out and Mrs Dornan called us to attention. The exciting news was that our class was going to be included in the Winter Concert the week before Christmas. We had a twenty minute block, so we needed to brainstorm for an act to perform. Mrs Dornan had some ideas written down, so she wanted us to discuss them and make a decision.
She read aloud as I skimmed through the words. There were variations of fairytale retellings, Charles Dickens, The Nativity, but the one that had everyone buzzing was Santa and the Zombies. For some reason dressing up like zombies appealed to everyone. A vote was done and it was unanimous. Mrs Dornan said she would send us through a copy of the script and auditions would be held next lesson. There would be after school practices needed as there were only three weeks to pull it all together. If people couldn’t commit to extra rehearsals she didn’t want the
m trying out for main parts. Everyone seemed to be in groups talking excitedly; Alex was fitting in great with the Blonde Brigade, as I’d now labeled them, enviously recalling my own bleached days.
“What part do you think you’ll try out for?” a voice squeaked, making me look from left to right. Not seeing anyone, I assumed the question hadn’t been for me. I pretended to be engrossed in Mrs Dornan’s notes. “Will you try out for a main part?” the voice asked again, with increased volume.
I swiveled a one eighty, seeing a girl directly behind me, the papers held up to her face revealing only a pair of stunning blue eyes framed by long dark brown bangs.
“Will I try out for a main part?” I repeated, making sure she was talking to me. She nodded. “I doubt it,” I said, “I haven’t acted before.” The irony was that I’d been acting since I arrived at RV High.
“You did really well just now,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said, “but I think it was adrenaline. I can’t remember any of it.”
She smiled and lowered the papers to her lap. “I’m Lily,” she said.
“Hi Lily,” I said, my eyes immediately drawn to the scar on her upper lip. It came from the inner side of her left nostril down into her lip line. In that moment I could see her nose was not symmetrical, the sides uneven, and in a rush I offered my hand and said, “I’m Blaire. As you already heard.” Lily shook lightly, her smile fading. We both knew I’d stared a second too long. I was annoyed at myself. “How about you?” I asked, in a bid to pretend I hadn’t. “Have you acted before?”
“A little, but I’ll probably land a zombie role.”
“Oh, me too,” I said, “My cousin tells me I run like one, so I’ll be perfect for the role.” I laughed at myself but then clamped my mouth shut—I wasn’t supposed to be revealing anything about my real life. Though it was true—Jack often said I was un-co, especially when he’d been forced to be my tennis partner, and unfortunately he was right. Mom had kindly described my running as like that of a baby gazelle, though it basically meant I couldn’t control my legs.
Lily looked at her papers and started reading again, so I turned back around, and the bell rang. Alex was herded out of the room with his new entourage and I could hear the girls saying he could eat lunch with them in the cafeteria. There was another pang of jealousy at the thought that he was making friends so quickly. I’d been super popular—once.
Mrs Dornan stopped me as I was heading out the door, again welcoming me to the class and saying she’d hope I’d consider auditioning for one of the major roles. She said my ability to improvise had been very good. I didn’t say that it had been pure panic, not skill.
After school I made my way to the library, seeking out my familiar table in the back. I made a start on my homework and printed out the script that Mrs Dornan had sent the class, reading through it. As appealing as being disguised as a zombie was, I couldn’t help but think the role of Evie the Elf sounded so cute. But she was a main role, so I didn’t stand a chance.
FRIDAY LOOMED, AND as I rode the bus to school I was inwardly praising myself for how well I’d coped with my first week. I’d kept low key, but was up to date with my work, I’d not sighted Bella at all and, though I wasn’t exactly happy, I wasn’t totally miserable. Playing undercover meant having to keep your wits about you all the time and that was draining. I was looking forward to hanging out at the weekend and hopefully talking to Mom. I wanted to know if there had been any developments on who had set me up.
I noticed my bag felt lighter as I stopped at my locker at lunch time, but rummaging through my backpack I flapped when I realized my lunchbox was as light as a feather. Had Margaret forgotten to fill it? I’d remembered snatching it off the kitchen counter in a rush because I’d been fussing too long with my skincare routine. Unable to get used to showing the world my forehead of pimples, I’d been using a light foundation to cover it. Oh, okay, maybe the thought of auditioning for the Christmas play and seeing Alex Lord in Theater Arts class might have had something to do with it. Completely abandoning my makeup routine had been one of my toughest adjustments, shallow as it may seem. But yes, Blair P had a reputation to uphold, and Mom had set standards that were impossibly high. Yeah, being Adele Pennington’s daughter had never been easy. When your mother was known for throwing the most glamorous parties in the district, pressure was high. Spending a few minutes blending my blemish concealer had turned into ten.
And now it seemed, in my haste, I’d grabbed the wrong lunchbox. With frustration I opened the box to find a sandwich and a folded piece of blue paper. Wrapped within it was a five dollar bill, and Margaret’s old fashioned handwriting: Have a treat and buy your lunch today, signed with a love heart. It brought back a memory, something Mom had done when I was in first grade—notes in my lunchbox, and fingering the bill I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. I still had my debit card and access to money, but Margaret’s gesture was so amazingly kind that I was sure my heart would burst. Even though I didn’t want to go into the cafeteria, the obligation to buy something overrode it—I’d have to report back to Margaret on what I’d bought.
A queue had formed at the counter and I made a beeline for it, head down. I’d buy something simple and take it to the library, as per usual. My biggest worry was running into Bella. My second biggest was deciding what to buy. As I stood in line, the selection of chicken nuggets, pizza, breadsticks and potato wedges looked uninteresting. I craned my neck to look further down the line, accidentally standing on the back of the heel of the boy in front of me.
He glared at me with disdain, muttering, “Watch where you’re walking four-eyes.”
I jolted, mumbling an apology, embarrassed by his name calling. It was the very reason I’d never worn glasses in public. As difficult as contacts had been to use in the beginning, I’d persisted at getting the pesky things in my eyes because the thought of wearing glasses had been mortifying. I hastily grabbed a crispy chicken salad, and it was only after the cashier took my money that I realized I’d need cutlery to eat it, and that meant I’d have to sit at a table. Or could I eat with fingers? No, even I couldn’t stoop to that.
I scouted the room hoping to see an empty-ish table I could join. My heart jumped when I spied Bella amongst a group of girls across at a window table. I moved in the opposite direction, fanning my hair over my cheeks.
“Blaire.” I looked around, thinking I heard my name, but maybe someone said, “Here.” The tiny voice came again. “Blaire?”
To my left Lily was shifting her backpack off of a chair and signaling me over. I rushed to join her and sit down; standing had made me feel like I was a shining beacon in the night begging to be recognized.
“You don’t usually eat in here, do you?” Lily asked.
“No,” I said, scanning down the table. Yeah, it was obvious this was not the cool table, or anywhere near it. But hey, I was a reject these days. I opened my salad bowl and stabbed at a lettuce leaf.
“Have you read the script?” Lily asked.
“Yeah, I’m excited about it,” I said, “It sounds fun.”
“What part are you going for?”
“Just whatever I can get,” I said with a shrug, “how about you?”
Lily hesitated. “I’d love to go for Evie the Elf, but...” She pushed her chicken nuggets around her plate, “But I’ll probably just be one of the workshop elves.”
“Evie is a great part,” I said, “Why wouldn’t you go for it?”
Lily’s eyes honed to a table over my shoulder. I twisted in my seat, seeing The Blonde Brigade at what was no doubt the popular table. Every school had one, including Covington Prep—it was where I had sat on a daily basis. As well as the two girls from Theater Arts class, there were several other girls (admittedly not all blonde), Rebecca and Josh and a few other boys. And in their midst was Alex Lord. Silly how my heart skipped a beat at seeing him. Well, seemed he’d integrated well into high school life, and was well ensconced in the social hierarchy.
“Chloe or Olivia will probably get the main part,” Lily said. It wasn’t said with any bitterness, more like she was stating a fact.
“Are they the best actors?”
Lily’s smile was sardonic, so was her eye roll. She didn’t need to say anything. Another look at Chloe’s long golden blonde waves and Olivia’s sleek, straight hair hanging down to the middle of her back, and their beautifully made up faces, and I could see why.
Running a hand through my new shortened hairstyle, it dawned on me how absurd it was that we were judged on hair color and styles, and that we were labeled a certain way because we didn’t have perfect eyesight.
And looking down the table at the boy with an unkempt mop of hair, of the overweight girls across from me, the boy with the thin pimply face, and the girl with glasses and braces, and Lily with her scarred lip, I knew I was guilty of judging, too.
And it was a moment that jarred my heart.
Chapter 5
Yes, I might admit to being slightly jealous as Alex arrived at Theater Arts class with Chloe and Olivia. Okay, a lot jealous. He smiled and waved at me and looked like he was about to come over, but Olivia tugged at his sleeve and pulled him down next to her.
Mrs Dornan said we would read through the play as a whole, giving those who were interested in the main parts lines to read. Three boys wanted the role of Santa, four wanted the Chief Zombie and two girls—Chloe and Olivia—wanted Evie the Elf.
“Is that everyone?” Mrs Dornan asked. I looked at Lily, sitting forward in her chair, her chest rising and falling as she took deep breaths. Her lips twitched as Mrs Dornan repeated, “Is that everyone for the main roles? No one else?”