by KD Knight
According to my "Welcome" package, my first stop was the head office. The office was an open space with desks dotted sporadically across the room. A slender woman sitting at the desk in the middle of the room glanced over her thick glasses at me. She gestured for me to wait as she spoke quickly into the phone. I turned to take a seat and was startled by a girl standing directly behind me.
"Sorry, I didn't hear anyone come in behind me," I said, taking a deep breath.
"I'm light on my feet," she said with a bright smile.
She was taller than I was, at least five-seven. She had fine features and straight blond hair that had been cut into a bob.
"You must be Jane Miller," she said enthusiastically.
"News travels quickly," I returned a tight lipped smile.
“My name is Lisa Kennon. I'm your volunteer student guide. It's my job to show you around the school today." Her ear-to-ear smile managed to stay intact as she spoke.
"Sorry about that," the slender administrator said as she approached us. She adjusted her frames and squinted at Lisa and me. "Jane Miller, correct?"
"Yes."
"Well I see you've met your student guide," she said, pursing her cracked lips. "Lisa is one of our brightest students. Last year she single-handedly led our school to victory at the political debate competition. She will be a huge asset to you during your time with us." The woman spoke with her neck, pitching it forward like a chicken grazing on seeds. "Stick with Lisa and you're sure to make the dean's list."
Lisa's cheeks turned red, but she didn't seem embarrassed. She looked proud.
The orientation took the entire morning. The school was just as grand inside as it appeared on the outside. Lisa was meticulous in showing me every nook and cranny of the school. We viewed the bathrooms, the gym change rooms, the trophy section, the computer lab, the library, and many other rooms I would need a map to find by myself.
"I know it's a lot to take in on your first day," she said as we made our way to the exit.
"A bit."
"Don't take it to heart if you have a hard time finding your way around for the first little while. I've been here since grade nine. I found out three weeks ago that this school has a games room," she said with a giggle.
"What kind of games?"
"Don't know. I've never been inside."
We passed a group of students perched against a column. One of the students stood out from the crowd. He looked East Asian, possibly Chinese. He had jet black hair cut low to his scalp. His slim body moved dramatically, jostling as he spoke in heavy patios.
"The small guy in the middle entertaining the crowd is Mark Chung," Lisa said as she folded her arms across her chest.
"Where is he from?" I asked.
"Mandeville, Jamaica. They don't have Chinese Jamaicans in Canada?"
“I'm sure they do. I just haven't met one."
"Well, the first ship from China arrived in Jamaica in 1854."
"Were you born in Jamaica?" I asked, glancing at her blond hair.
"Of course. My father has a Lebanese background. My mother’s background is German. I read that you are Jamaican as well. Your parents are Maroons."
"Yes and no. I don’t feel Jamaican.”
“If you’re a Maroon, then your ancestors were amongst the first Africans to arrive on the island. Your ancestors rebelled against their slave owners and began their own community.”
“Wow. I didn’t know all that.”
“Now you do.” She said with a bright smile. “Come on. I’ve got more to show you.”
The last stop of the day was the outdoor gym field. The simple look of the field with its chalk-lined borders and worn wooden bleachers didn't match the grand appearance of the rest of the school.
On the field, a soccer game had begun. Players in our school colours were on the field stretching and receiving what looked like a pep talk from their coach. Lisa's name was called from a distance. Mark, the Chinese Jamaican boy I'd seen earlier, motioned for her to join him in the bleachers.
"Do you mind if we sit?"
"No." Carrying a backpack with two notepads and pencil didn't feel like much for the first little bit, but after five hours, I was thankful for an opportunity to take it off.
"Jane, this is Mark Chung."
I gave him my usual short wave and tight-lipped smile.
"This is the girl from Canada, eh," Mark leaned back and spread his thin arms across the bench behind him.
"Yep, eh," I replied.
"We all have our stereotypes." Lisa said, shooting Mark an annoyed glance.
"I caught the way you looked at me in the hall." Mark cocked his head and winked at me.
Instantly, my cheeks grew hot. "Just so we’re clear, I wasn't checking you out."
"Don't I get an introduction?" The boy sitting two rows behind Mark asked. He braced his elbows on his knees.
Lisa looked back and rolled her eyes. "Marcus," she said in a grim tone. "I thought you were going away for a while."
He pulled his mouth into a crooked smile. "I was, but I decided to postpone my trip. Disappointed?"
"Deeply," she said with sincerity.
Mark shot Marcus an icy glare, he mumbled something, then curled his thin lips in contempt.
Marcus had a boyish look complete with a dimple. He had dark brown freckles that lined the bridge of his nose. He reminded me of the kind of boy that the girls at my high school back in Canada stupidly lost their minds over. He reminded me of Kumar.
"Nice accent." Marcus said, leaning toward me.
"Thanks."
"I've been to Toronto once, during the winter," He said, smiling. The sun shone brightly overhead giving the freckles on his nose a red hue. "I prefer the sun."
"No one cares what you prefer, Neph," Mark barked over his shoulder.
"Easy Speedy, you wouldn't want to scare off your new friend. Would you?" Marcus replied in a painfully cold tone.
"Stop it!" Lisa said as she noticed the spectators around them. "Both of you know the rules."
There are rules at this school against verbal arguments? I have to read that ethics manual.
"Are those your nicknames—Neph and Speedy?" I asked.
Marcus laughed heartily. "You are going to be a lot of fun." He winked, rose from his seat and walked down the bleachers. Mark and Lisa's eyes followed him until he disappeared.
I don't make it a habit of prejudging someone based on appearance alone, but sometimes I get a feeling about someone, like a pang in my gut that says, 'Jane, keep your distance.' I got this feeling about Marcus.
"You want to stay for the game?" Lisa asked after a few quiet moments.
"Sure. I've never watched a live soccer game before," I replied.
"Soccer?" She repeated in a confused tone. "In Jamaica it's called football."
"Football. Got it." I said nodding.
"Our team is in the white and blue," she motioned to the left of the field, "and the visiting team from Port Antonio is in the yellow."
As Lisa finished her sentence, a new player for Kingston Academy entered the field and took the forward position. He hunched his broad shoulders over the ball, facing off against his opponent.
Suddenly, he shot back up angling his body oddly toward the bleachers. It was as if someone had called his name and he looked up instinctively. The referee blew his whistle, but he stood stiff, still staring.
"What's Boothe doing?" Mark asked, throwing his hands in the air. "Tomorrow’s stew chicken a ride pon dis game."
"Serves you right!" Lisa said, looking at him sideways. "The school has a no gambling policy."
"School rules are only suggestions. Nuh true, Jane?"
I shrugged. "I’m sorry I don't understand patois."
On the field, the opponent captured the ball and kicked it to his teammate. The spectators let out a huge grumble. The opponent ran past Boothe, knocking him on the shoulder. The jolt seemed to wake him up. He turned and ran after the player, quickly recovering the b
all. For the next thirty-five minutes, he dominated the fields. He scored five points and moved around his opposition as if they were standing still.
The spectators watched the game with the passion that Canadians showed at a hockey game. Mark jumped from his seat a few times, yelling towards the field when he thought the referee had made a bad call. Everyone cheered each time Boothe made a goal.
Boothe didn't look toward the bleachers for the rest of the game. When the game was over, everyone shook hands, congratulating each other on a good game. Seconds later, Boothe was off the field, leaving his teammates behind.
Mark gripped his shirt right above his heart as the bleachers emptied. "I'll never gamble with chicken like that again."
In the distance, standing by the sidelines, Marcus stood watching.
~Jane~
Chapter Four: I Get Traced
I have Ancient Civilizations and Visual Arts in the morning, followed by History and English in the afternoon. According to Lisa's directions to get to my first class, I head north until I hit the teachers’ lounge, then west toward the bathrooms, the room should be on my right just past the...
"I'm lost." I stared blankly at the map's tiny coloured squares.
"Morning, Jane." A voice chirped from behind. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Lisa said with bright smile. "I'm…"
"Light on your feet. I remember. Actually, I'm glad you're here. I can't find room 77."
"Ancient Civilizations." She said, flashing her pristine white teeth. "I've got that class, too. Follow me. You'll love the teacher. He really gives a good lecture."
As we walked, I traced my finger along the map and marked where we stopped.
"Here we are, Room 77," she said with her usual bright smile.
"Thanks. If you didn't run into me I would have been circling the building till lunch."
Room 77, first period Ancient Civilizations, resembled a movie theatre with graded rows of padded bucket seats. Large windows lined the two sides of the room letting the light bounce off the teacher's podium. A good number of the hundred or so seats were filled with chattering teens. A group of heavily made up girls who sat in the second row watched us as we entered.
"I sit there, in the middle. Do you want to sit together?"
"Sure."
Her blue and white backpack bounced as she mounted the steps. She stopped abruptly in front of Mark who had his feet propped up on the back of the chair in front of him.
"That's disgusting," she said, dropping her backpack. "Someone has to sit there, you know."
"They won't if my feet are on it."
"Do you mind?" Lisa said, pushing his legs with her heavy sack and sliding through the slender walkway.
I couldn't help smiling. They reminded me of one of those old married couples you see on the soaps who pretended to hate each other, but deep down wouldn't know what to do without the other. But they were only sixteen, not married, and based on the way Mark flirts with other girls, definitely not dating.
"Morning, Mark." I said passing him.
He saluted and propped his feet back onto the seat.
I watched their body language. They were like fifth graders who'd hit each other just to show how much they liked each other. "Have you and Mark ever…" I whispered to Lisa.
"No," she said curtly as her light coloured cheeks grew red.
"Maybe you should tell him how you feel," I whispered.
Her cheeks held their bright hue as she continued to unpack her textbooks and place them neatly on the fold-out table attached to the seat. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm just the new girl here. You can discount my opinion if you want. But it just seems like you have feelings for Mark, that's all. I'd say he has feelings for you, too."
Her eyes narrowed. "You really think I should tell him?" she said under her breath. "Forget it. You don't know Mark. He'll let it get to his head."
The classroom was warm. I broke the seal on my bottle of water. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." I said before taking a mouthful.
"You’re right! Me and Mark been friends for years, I should be honest with him."
I let out a surprised cough and nearly choked on my water. "I'm not being serious."
"Mark," she turned to him.
I felt myself blush. I can't believe she is actually going to do this. I wasn't serious, and even if I was, who am I to listen to? “Please don't!” I pleaded. “I was kidding…”
"Mark, Jane thinks I should tell you how I feel. So here goes."
Mark looked at her intently.
She took a deep breath. "You're the laziest, most self-centered person I have ever met. Take your nasty foot off the chair!"
I burst into laughter. I laughed so hard my eyes began to water.
"You're getting better at the joke thing," Mark said with a light nod. "But don't forget who the master is."
"See, Jane, I told you it would go to his head," Lisa said, giggling lightly.
Their smiles faded as Marcus entered the classroom. He was followed by the tall dark-complexioned boy I had seen on the football field yesterday. Boothe, I think Mark called him.
He was the epitome of a jock. He was tall and muscular with a chiselled jaw line and smooth chocolate skin. He looked like he spent more time in the mirror than most girls.
Every part of him looked boringly familiar. Except for his eyes. They were as black as onyx but yet had a shiny gloss when he stepped into the sunlight. I have never seen eyes like that.
"Instead of staring, you should go over and tell him how you feel," Lisa whispered.
"Haha." Why am I staring? It was his eyes. I wanted him to step into the light again; I needed to get another look.
One of the heavily made up girls in the second row extended her arms to touch him. He jerked back, stepping directly into the sun. He looked up and our eyes met. His eyes were no longer black. They were...grey.
"That's so weird," I mumbled.
I continued to stare, captured by his extraordinary eyes. He stared back, pulling his lips into a one-sided smile.
"Attention, students, please take your seats." A bellowing voice snapped both of us back to reality.
"My name is Dr. Christopher Coy for anyone who is taking my course for the first time. We are going to jump right in. We'll begin today's lesson on page six of your text books." He had a crisp baritone voice. "So, if you can have a seat, Mr. Hasani Boothe."
Boothe winked at me before taking his seat. My fascination instantly turned to disgust. His brazen cockiness made my stomach turn. I rolled my eyes as I turned my attention to Dr. Coy.
Dr. Coy was a tall, average built man. He had no wrinkles or lines on his face, only a smooth, caramel complexion. His long, thin, tightly wrapped dreadlocks were pulled back, with a few loose locks resting on his shoulder.
For the next hour and twenty minutes, he gave theories, facts, figures and charts about the culture in the Caribbean and the British "discovery" of the island. I took notes feverishly but still didn't capture half of what Dr. Coy said.
"Wasn't that good?" Lisa asked as soon as the lecture ended. She gathered her textbooks, piling them into a neat stack on her fold-out table.
"It was something," I replied, shoving my dishevelled papers into my backpack.
I grabbed Lisa's hand before she could head down the aisle. "That guy, Boothe, there's something up with his eyes."
"Haven't noticed," she shrugged.
"There's definitely something weird about them." Black eyes one minute grey another. There is no way that’s possible.
"Maybe, your too far away to see things clearly. I've known Boothe for years. There is nothing special about his eyes."
"You're right.” I tossed my bag on my back. “I need a closer look."
She let out a heavy sigh. "Before you go chasing Boothe, I want to introduce you to Dr. Coy." She quickly walked to the front of the classroom. "Dr. Coy, this is…"
"Jane Miller, Darlene Wisdom's niece
." Dr. Coy completed his introduction while extending his hand. "Darlene is a good friend of mine." He sat slightly on the edge of his desk. "It's a pleasure to have you in my class. How are you enjoying the school so far?"
"It's alright."
"You know, Darlene and I worked very hard to get you into this school mid-semester."
"I appreciate it, really."
"It was my pleasure." He and Lisa exchanged a brief glance. "Every Thursday I hold a meeting here after school. There are only four students involved. We look into social issues that are currently affecting our community. I want to invite you to join us. I think you will find it...interesting."
"Like an after-school study group?" I queried. "Wow. You guys really jump right in."
"Similar to a study session, except the issues we discuss are specific to our community."
Lisa raised her brows in anticipation.
"Um, I'll think about it."
"That's all we can ask," he said with a pleasant smile. "I will see you two young ladies tomorrow. Remember to read pages seven to thirty."
I walked through the crowded hallway towards my second period class. Lisa offered to walk with me to make sure I didn't get lost. It's going to be a while before I get a handle on the school layout. We crossed the checkerboard hallway and walked through an archway. On either side of the short tunnel were lockers. Boothe stood at the end with his back turned towards me. I pulled my books against my chest, tucking them under my chin. This was my chance to get a closer look. I walked slowly, waiting for him to turn. My eyes floated over his lean, athletic frame to his sharp jaw line and then up to his face for another glance at his eyes. But he didn't turn.
I must have been standing a few moments before my mind registered that I had stopped behind him. Sirens went off in my head, pleading with me to continue walking and forget about what I saw or thought I saw. On the other hand, curiosity was eating me alive.
I'll just introduce myself and get an unobstructed view of his eyes. Or I could forget this whole thing and mind my own business. Why do I care what colour his eyes are?
I had my foot angled ready to step away when he turned around.
"Couldn't resist?" He said with a crooked smile.