Double Life - Book 1 of the Vaiya Series

by Vaiya Books

  It took a few moments for the bad news to settle, at which point the teacher briefed through his lecture notes and readied his materials, preparing himself for another rousing day of teaching.

  Dustin Edwards, a brilliant man who’d gone to college so that he could teach in college, failed every one of his job interviews due to undisclosed reasons which he never cared to explain to his students. Though he possessed, in his own words, an extraordinary resume, an outstanding personality, and the brain of a mechanical clock--no one ever could discover what was so good about this last one--no interviewer liked him. He compared his rejection to the rejection of Thomas Edison. As Edwards commonly said, “Genius is never recognized at first, but time will prove all things.”

  His inability to secure a job as a college professor left him desperately applying to high schools. In the end, he got a position as a chemistry teacher, but that didn’t satisfy him. To be able to cope with his unused doctorate degree, he made everybody address him as professor, making it very clear to every one of his students that he was far more intelligent than just a teacher.

  “Turn to page 138 of your textbook,” he said, after deciding what to do, his eyes bright and warm as if he’d been feasting on sunshine. Straightening out his glasses, he looked Ian’s way. A cloud blocked out the sun. He shook his head in extreme displeasure as if Ian had committed an unpardonable crime. “Ian Hansen, take off that headband thingy. It’s absolutely forbidden in my classroom. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Professor,” he mumbled, as he grudgingly removed it and slipped it into his pocket. “Happy now?”

  “I am most delighted. Thank you, Mr. Hansen,” he said insincerely, with a sickening politeness that made Ian want to gag. “And, Eddy Sarris.” He glared at him. “Please remove your legs from the desk. It’s not proper posture, and it’s not acceptable school behavior. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” Eddy obeyed without hesitation. A few students smiled at him while holding back laughs.

  But Edwards peered through his tilted thick glasses at Eddy as if looking at a squashed bug or an oversized June beetle. “Are we in the military, Mr. Sarris?”

  Eddy shook his head.

  “Then refrain from calling me sir and start using my title,” he replied, clearly not amused.

  “Yes, Professor Edwards.”

  “And, Mr. Sarris,” he continued sternly, pointing at the broken shards of pencil. “Before you leave class, I want this whole room swept. Take it as punishment for littering on school property.”

  “Yes, Professor Edwards,” he replied lazily, not even disheartened by this duty imposed on him as he usually received far worse.

  The professor immediately cheered up. “Thank you, Mr. Sarris.” Pulling a few stapled pages of notes from off his desktop, and holding them up somewhat close to his face, he proceeded to briefly discuss electrons, orbitals, and then something called the Bohr model--the name perfectly described Ian’s feelings. He didn’t even pay attention to what page in the book they were supposed to be on now, and he was perfectly fine with that. Following every instruction like a fawning parrot wasn’t for him. No one could accuse him of being a teacher’s pet.

  Yawning, Ian leaned back on his chair, stretched out his legs, and pulled his black sunglasses out of his pocket, gently slipping them on.

  But the professor quickly caught him again, giving him even less time to enjoy his shades than he had his bandana. “Ian Hansen.” He sighed, his face back in a storm again. “For the last time, no bandana, no sunglasses in my classroom. After two months, I’d think you’d get the message. Keep this up and you’ll soon be spending your Saturday mornings in detention. Do you hear me, Mr. Hansen?”

  “Yeah, I hear ya, Professor.” Ian slid them into a case and flung the case onto his desk, sulking and muttering to himself. Edwards was such a killjoy.

  The rest of the class though, seemed to think this encounter was amusing, and muffled laughs were heard throughout the room.

  But the professor proceeded with his lecture as if the confrontation hadn’t happened, a skill that came from his many years of teaching. “Today, class, we’re going to start our first group project.” He excitedly drew several large, dangerously crooked ovals on the chalkboard, each one fitting haphazardly inside one another; it reminded Ian of the orbits of the planets around the sun. “After I randomly assign you into groups, I’ll inform you of your task.”

  At this point, Jason Miller, a self-composed man with long raven-black hair that threatened to engulf his face, yet looked surprisingly well on him, raised his hand.

  Dustin Edwards glanced his way and stared at him inquisitively. “Yes, Mr. Miller?”

  Jason voiced his complaint, keeping his voice polite. “Yeah, I thought you were going to let us choose our own groups, Professor Edwards. You said so just last week.”

  He was rejected. The professor grinned hauntingly, like a mad scientist, while shaking his head disturbingly. “I changed my mind.”

  Jason retorted, while trying to maintain his smile: “But you’ve never done this before, Professor.”

  As he adjusted his glasses, his frightening expression slipped away. “Ah, but there’s a first time for everything.” Staring at the class roster, he beamed golden, completing his transformation to normalcy, as he cleared his throat and spoke, “Now let’s begin this exhilarating process.”

  As the class waited apprehensively, not sharing in his enthusiasm, the professor locked up the silence by calling out their names, splitting them into six groups of three, and one group of two, before giving them their assignment.

  Once finished, he handed each group an instruction sheet, as Darien nudged his friend with his elbow. “Hey, Eddy,” he whispered into his ear. “I get to work with Hazel and Tianna.”

  “Drop it!” exclaimed Eddy, as he tightened his lips into a menacing scowl, and kicked over a wastebasket near the wall that was fortunately empty at the time. While Hazel Amara and Tianna Summers were the most beautiful girls in class and also very smart, he was stuck with Jasmine Minhart, a clumsy, thickheaded braggart, who’d decided that bright red hair with hot pink stripes was the fashionable hairstyle for the week, and Alan Reade, the unsocial computer nerd who’d rather have lemon juice squeezed into his eyes than start a conversation. Hardly fair team splitting. The professor clearly hated him.

  Glancing back at Jasmine and Alan, seeing them already talking, or rather, seeing Jasmine talking and Alan stupidly listening, his dominant hand scribbling notes as fast as a court reporter could type, Eddy grit his teeth together, his rage intensifying. “I’m not workin’ with those two,” he muttered.

  Darien’s smile vanished. “Eddy, give them a chance. Who knows, you might end up liking them.”

  A snarl crossed his face at his trite expression. “Easy for you to say. You’re with the class hotties.” Eddy, done looking at Darien’s partners, Tianna and Hazel, both of whom had the sweetest, most angelic smiles on their faces and the prettiest hair, turned and focused on Jasmine, gazing in disgust at her long ponytails that hung limply on her head like two sea slugs and her dull, klutzy grin.

  Alan wasn’t any better. The brainiest hint of a smile on his light bulb face, he already had two paragraphs of indecipherable instructions before him which he was now sharing with Jasmine as quietly and turtlish as possible as if the very act of speaking were somehow torturing his soul. The contrast between his teammates and Darien’s was nauseating … downright barbaric.

  Darien frowned at his brutal scrutiny. “Did you ever even try talking to them, man?”

  Eddy scowled--poison oozed from his lips. “Yeah. I talked to Alan once. Turns out he hates sports.” He wrinkled his nose at the odious memory. “And Jasmine, she’s so stuck up that even her mom couldn’t love her.”

  “Hey, watch your words.”

  “Fat chance.” Eddy clenched his fists as if ready to engage in a fight. “Those two are extreme losers. I can’t work with either of them--that’s all t
here is to it.”

  As Darien glared angrily at him, Eddy, standing beside Ian, turned sharply away from him and put a firm hand on Ian’s shoulder. “I wanna switch you teams.”

  Ian faked his best disappointed face, a little surprised by his friend’s words. “Really? I’m with William and Jimmy; it’s not much better than what you’ve got.”

  Sparks leapt from Eddy’s eyes. “Yeah right! You know I have it way worse than you.”

  “But I thought you hated Jimmy?”

  “Hate?” He emphasized the word. “No, I don’t hate the fantasy freak; I just think he’s really weird.”

  The words fell painfully on Darien’s ears. Apparently, his life’s story had made little impact on Eddy. Glistening with anger, he sighed deeply. “You just can’t get enough of insulting people, can you, Eddy?”

  Eddy bit his lip in annoyance, facing Darien again. “Hey, he deserves to be teased. He spends hours every day sword fighting and arching. What kind of normal kid does that, huh?”

  Ignoring him, Darien glanced at the clock in the room and then at the professor who wore a disgruntled frown, likely wondering when they were going to return to their assignment that everyone else was already busily working on. A semi-troubled look on his face, Darien muttered, “Hey, Eddy, I’ve gotta get to my group now. Catch ya later,” before turning around rigidly and heading over to his pretty teammates.

  As soon as he’d sat down next to Hazel and Tianna, who were discussing with enthusiasm what to do for their project, Eddy turned towards Ian, a pitiful look on his face. “So, you wanna help me out, man?”

  Ian shrugged, smiling faintly. “Not really.”

  Eddy’s face contorted, as he gave up trying to persuade Ian, likely knowing how stubborn he could be. “Fine, but don’t go begging me for help when you need it.” Staring at him crossly for several seconds, he dragged his feet towards Jasmine and Alan, a grieved expression singed onto his face, a malevolent, animalistic glint in his eyes.

  Only bearing to watch Eddy for a few more seconds, Ian quickly strutted over to his group.

  After a rather awkward introduction, Ian trying to make some small talk, the tense atmosphere almost instantly lightened, and he found himself engrossed in conversation with them, surprised by how normal and interesting they were: Jimmy Ivans wasn’t half as peculiar as he’d judged him to be, and his jokes actually made him laugh; and William Martel, not to be outdone, had an extraordinary gift of analyzing people and copying their accents, speech patterns, and body movements.

  His impersonation of Dustin Edwards was hilarious--made even funnier by the fact that he did it whenever the professor’s back was turned.

  The twenty minutes they spent together went by too quickly; they did far more talking than actual work, yet they somehow still managed to finish the Bohr model assignment consisting of drawing the shape of the orbitals and writing how many electrons were in each of the first four shells.

  Upon completing it, Ian heard the professor’s loud nasally voice take command of the classroom again.

  “Well, that’s all for today. Hold onto those projects--you’ll be finishing them on Wednesday.” The professor glanced down at his notes, a jubilant expression on his face, and then raised his voice above the noisy stampede of students picking up their books, scooting out of their desks, and hurrying to leave the classroom: “Tomorrow we’ll be discussing collision theory, sub-orbitals, and valence electrons. See you all then.”

  However, the students simply ignored him as nobody cared to know what was coming for them the following day. Who knows why he felt he had to inform them?

  As Ian exited the classroom, nearly the last one out except for Eddy who had begun cleanup duty, he headed over towards his locker when he felt a hand alight on his shoulder--it was Hazel’s.

  Her mouth curved innocently. “Hey, Ian--so you comin’ to my party tonight?”

  A blush swept across his face; this was news to him. “Sure. When does it start?” She could take her hand off anytime now.

  “Seven. You’d better be there.” Removing her hand from his shoulder, her light blue eyes aglow with playfulness, she twirled her blonde hair between her fingers, adding, “I’ll be watching for you.”

  His cheeks grew even redder. “Thanks,” he murmured, not knowing what else to say, as he nervously tapped his fingers against his blue jeans.

  Hazel smiled tenderly. “See ya,” she said, before turning around, skipping over to her friend Tianna, and whispering something into her ear that made her friend laugh. Ian didn’t catch it, nor did he care to, but from the look of it, they were talking about him--and he’d barely said anything. Girls.

  Backing away from them, trying to recollect his thoughts, he stood confused and unsettled. Hazel was a mystery. He’d liked her ever since last year when he’d gotten put into the same group as her in speech class; but whenever he tried talking to her then, she always seemed distracted and bored as if he were the last person on earth she wanted to spend time with.

  Yet that was not at all how she seemed now. For once, she actually appeared excited to see him. Whatever had made her become so friendly, he suspected that Darien was behind it, as his friend had just been in her and Tianna’s group. Though he didn’t know what his friend could’ve possibly said that had made her actually interested in him, nothing else really seemed to fit right now. He’d have to talk to Darien about it later.

  Walking down the long hallway, away from Hazel and her friend, Ian reached his locker and shoved his chemistry book back into the crammed space, thoughts about Hazel still swarming his mind. He didn’t know how he could handle this new Hazel. Just thinking about their previous conversation made him embarrassed. Try as he might, he just couldn’t shake it off.

  As uneasiness gripped onto his heart, his chemistry partners came up beside him.

  “Hey, Ian,” said William, smiling, as Ian shut his locker and turned to face him and his friend Jimmy. “Do you have plans this evening?”

  Shoving away his thoughts about Hazel’s apparent interest in him until a more opportune time, Ian focused intently on William’s words and frowned inwardly; not only did he hate turning down people, but even more so, he felt bad bringing up something that he knew his new friends weren’t invited to. “Yeah. There’s a party at Hazel’s.”

  “Hazel’s?” questioned Jimmy curiously, edging his way into the conversation, a blush spreading across his face upon just mentioning her name. It was a well-known fact that Jimmy was petrified of females, at least ones that were young and cute.

  “Yeah,” Ian repeated. “She personally invited me and I promised I’d come.” He paused and shuffled his feet on the black and white tiled floor, adding hesitantly, “I can’t back down. It’d make me look like a liar.”

  “And it’d make you really unpopular,” said William, smirking. “Turning down Hazel’s a death sentence; every guy knows that.” Popping a lemon Warhead into his mouth, he grimaced at the tart flavor, yet still managed to add, “How about sometime else then, like tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, definitely.”

  As William’s face grew lighter and he was just about to respond, suddenly, Shawn Evalise appeared from seemingly out of nowhere and snaked towards them like an Australian hunter. Dusty brown hair flopping on his forehead like bunny’s ears, well-formed grin surfacing on his smooth face earning him the title of class clown, and calm green eyes emerging like sleepy frogs awakening, Shawn slapped Jimmy on the shoulder as he shouted: “Hey, Romeo! Where’s your Juliet?”

  Before Jimmy could think up an answer to this bizarre question, Shawn had already left towards the vending machine, smiling ecstatically, leaving Ian in shock. Although Shawn always had a knack for making an entrance, and his disappearing act could outclass a magician’s, this was something else. This was just downright weird.

  “What was that about?” asked Ian, stifling a chuckle.

  “Nothing,” said Jimmy evasively, unhappiness blanketing his face, his eyes mere c
urtained windows. “It’s just Shawn.”

  As Ian tried in vain to interpret Shawn’s words and Jimmy’s vague response to his own pointed question, William’s teeth shattered the Warhead, as he replied somewhat hesitantly, “Ok, great. See ya in English class.”

  “You too,” replied Ian, as Jimmy, looking like a ghost of himself, headed over to his next class like a defeated warrior returning from battle. It seemed Jimmy couldn’t even take a little joke from Shawn, one that was actually quite funny.

  Just shaking his head at Jimmy, Ian refocused on Hazel’s party, as he strode over to the nearest water fountain and quenched his thirst.

  Though it was true that Hazel had invited him to a party at her house before, that was to her old house, which she and her parents had moved out of during the summer. Her new house, three times as big, a real-life mansion from what he’d seen while driving past it, had a state-of-the-art exercise room, a tennis court, a bowling alley, a skateboard ramp, and plenty of other things. He couldn’t wait to see it for...

  “Hey, man,” mumbled Eddy, his somber frown chilling Ian’s joyful spirit. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Uh … not much.” He shifted the focus to his friend. “Finish sweeping already?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t do a very good job.” Sighing, Eddy sank his head towards the ground, a whole barrage of unpleasant emotions taking their turns on him. Gloom was playing a symphony on Eddy’s face and depression was the conductor.

  After watching him for a while, uneasiness growing inside him, Ian broke the silence, bewildered over his friend’s downcast spirit, something that he rarely witnessed: “What’s wrong, Eddy?”