Judge by the Cover: High School, Drama & Deadly Vices (Hafu Sans Halo Book 1)

by Melissa Abigail

  The woman shook her head and waved a hand dismissively. "It'll be all right. I'll get the boys to help bring it in."

  "Well, it's been our pleasure!" Haruna said in a tone as sweet as she could muster. She didn't wait. She grabbed Mani by the elbow and tugged, directing him back to the Mercedes, allowing him to lumber alongside her. A dusty, old-looking city bus came into view, sputtering up the street. It stopped just at the edge of the crescent to release a passenger, then with a puff of grey smoke the bus continued on its way.

  "Didn't notice the bus stop," Mani said.

  Haruna nodded. Neither had she. Her pacing slowed as the figure masked by fog manoeuvred closer and closer with a gait that was rhythmic, agile, almost catlike. By now Mani had passed her and reached the car first. He opened the door for the driver's side and gestured for her to hurry. Haruna paid no mind to him as the stranger neared, hands in his pockets and form growing more and more visible against the dark, fog-drenched sky. She watched every movement. His left leg, then right, clothed in loosely-fitted ash-brown dress pants, trousers; his torso hugged in a midnight-black sweatshirt, hood drawn. He looked up, lifting his bowed head. He froze—his eyes met hers.

  Haruna slapped her hands over her mouth, stifling her gasp.

  She wasn't sure who out of the two of them was more stunned by the sight of the other—but the thoughts coursed through her mind a mile-a-minute, and she couldn't hear Mani's continual calling out to her from the driveway. Before she could think to question or puzzle over whether his being there stood to reason, everything became blindingly clear.

  Ryu was a resident. Ryu lived here.

  September 2006

  Five years prior

  Haruna took interest in her chocolate leather Mary-Janes, her thoughts far away as she followed the others through the hallway, towards the auditorium.

  "All right juniors, this way, this way," commandeered the grade twelve student.

  Haruna lifted her head and gazed in awe. Lindsay McCormack, the school’s Head Girl. There was something about her. She walked with a confident stride befitting her reputation, her maturity amplified by the crispness of a blazer that gave structure to otherwise narrow shoulders. She was stunning. Gorgeous and willowy with straight hair that swung at her waist. She must have been brilliant too, to be selected before all others in her year along with the Head Boy.

  Haruna looked down at her own uniform skirt in green plaid which seemed to fit like a parachute against too-thin, too-white legs. She thought she had looked pretty good that morning when she had pulled on the uniform and set her hair into two short, braided pigtails. She had even ditched her glasses in favour of contacts. Haruna had been eager to start her first day at Shady Glenn Academy as though she'd finally "arrived," but now she felt somehow small, insignificant. Her own uniform didn't fit her or fill out nearly as well as Lindsay's. Haruna lifted her head and watched as Lindsay stopped in position like a soldier, her hands planted on her hips. Nothing could stand in Lindsay’s way. She was bold. Self-assured. Haruna imagined herself as that girl. Could she be Head Girl someday?

  "Inside. Single file, please. Take a seat—quietly.” Lindsay motioned them inside, beyond the large oak-lined doorways.

  "Haruna?" A soft whisper. Haruna turned and met the eyes of another, her smile kind, her strawberry-blonde hair held back with a scarlet headband. Her best friend, Gabrielle. "Are you nervous?"

  Haruna felt as Gabrielle gently reached for her hand and squeezed. Feeling much calmer, Haruna shook her head "no." Together, they entered. The auditorium was grand, shining, and impressive like every other part of the Academy. It seemed no place on this campus could cease to amaze her. It was like being in a dream that both thrilled and frightened her.

  As instructed the new students seated themselves by grade, awaiting the welcome of their headmaster and the start of the junior assembly.

  "This school has great clubs. I'm so excited," Haruna overheard a girl say to another.

  Haruna didn't know much about the clubs at Shady Glenn Academy. But she knew it was a school that took pride in being "committed to quality over quantity." They had a quota to meet, and the priority was for students with high scores and talent. The ability to afford it was secondary. At least, that was what was stated on paper. In practise, it was like any other elite school for the rich or those who were willing to pretend to be.

  After attending a small all-girls Catholic school her entire life, Haruna was unsure about shifting to a co-ed prep school. Her grandmother seemed uncertain too. The Academy was huge. Half its campus was for juniors, grade seven to nine. The other half was for seniors, ten to twelve. It was a different world and Haruna's grandmother, who was deathly afraid of change or the unpredictable, wouldn't be persuaded. Not until Mrs. Hope, Gabrielle's mother, boasted about it. Her own son, Samuel Hope, was a senior student here—and a model student. Haruna's grandmother had total faith in the Hopes. They too were honourable, well-to-do, God-fearing residents of Shady Glenn Estates and Gabrielle had been not just Haruna's childhood friend, but also her neighbour. At least now they would be going to the same school. Haruna turned to Gabrielle with a smile but was met with the back of her head. Haruna followed her friend's gaze, noticing its lingering on a boy that sat just off to their right, several heads and an aisle away.

  "Elle?" Haruna whispered, brow raised.

  Gabrielle flinched, seeming surprised to have her thoughts interrupted. She turned to Haruna with a shy grin. "He's pretty cool, isn't he?"

  Haruna knitted her brows and leaned over. The boy now had his head turned in their direction, though he chatted with a boy beside him. Seeing his face completely, Haruna wasn’t impressed. Needle-like, spiking hair, his face of endless freckles, the odd pimple, bushy brows, and as he grinned, teeth that were slightly crooked and gapped. At best he was ordinary-looking, and at worst he was a complete dork. Nothing about him screamed "cool."

  "Who is he?" Haruna asked.

  "His name's Seth. I met him at the open house. He got ketchup all over himself at the barbeque table. I was in line beside him so I handed him napkins," Gabrielle's gaze sparkled and a blush crept along her face, "You know how most people would be totally embarrassed? He just laughed it off. Said he liked the 'tie-dye look.'"

  Haruna recalled that there had been an open house on the weekend, a meet-and-greet for staff and soon-to-be students complete with drinks and hotdogs. Haruna couldn't go. For weeks she had been recovering from a bout of bronchitis. She was lucky to be just well enough to make it on the first day. She glimpsed from Gabrielle back to Seth. It was just then that Seth caught their eyes. He grinned, his hand lifted to give a tiny wave. Gabrielle beamed and waved back. The boy beside Seth turned as well. He had a deeply tanned face covered in a mass of dark hair that swept past his brows, framing his eyes. Just as she noticed him, he noticed her and their eyes locked. She smiled to be polite, but the boy didn't smile. He stared, wide-eyed, for a fleeting moment before turning his head.

  Haruna blinked, a little confused.

  Wouldn't it have been normal to at least smile back?

  Suddenly, the lights in the auditorium dimmed and a hush came over the hall. The assembly began.

  Post-assembly, the students were sorted into one of four homerooms. Haruna was still in a daze. Words like "excellence" and "high expectations" danced around in her head. Her headmaster was a proud, brooding kind of man with the onset of baldness. He wore a well-fitted suit that was the unfortunate shade of taupe. Colour-choices aside, his charisma was contagious. "Take pride in your school and uniform," he said, especially since they were chosen among so many applicants. He also spoke of community; it was important to stand together, to lift each other so that they may all excel. The Head Girl and Boy spoke too, and Haruna knew from their speeches that she had to do two important things.

  First, maintain her grades. She was always a high-achiever. She couldn't let anything stand in her way to change that.

 
; The second thing appeared more challenging at first.

  Just following the Head Boy's speech, Gabrielle mentioned that her brother was going to be a prefect that year, then aim to be Head Boy the year after, his twelfth year. It seemed inevitable he would be. Haruna had seen him throughout the years—he was tall like a Swedish model with fair hair and a boyish smile. He looked like he belonged on the beaches of L.A., surfing and life-guarding instead of restricted to a simple place like West Campbelton. She supposed Tofino beaches weren't a bad compromise. The minute Sam had gotten his licence, he was gone every other weekend, making the long trek to the ferry dock and Vancouver Island coast, speeding away in his new convertible with a carload of friends. And in the winter, he'd likely be hitting the slopes all the same. Now that Haruna and his baby sister were in the same school, albeit separate halves of it, Haruna had managed to catch a glimpse of him with an armful of friends flocking around. Girls, specifically. Girls who looked, talked, and walked like Lindsay McCormack. That's when Haruna knew—she had to become popular. This was the second thing.

  Haruna wasn't fond of her time at St. Jill's, her old elementary school. In grade one, she'd been teased and it didn't help that she was shy, had bad anxiety or got sick often. By the time she'd reached grade three, she decided she didn't want to be shy anymore. So Haruna wasn't unpopular. She wasn't popular either. She was just a girl who preferred her own company. Besides, with all her violin practice, piano rehearsals, church and homework, there was little time to make friends. Now that she'd transferred to this school, she was forced to start over. Which was fine, she supposed. She already had one friend, Gabrielle. Making others couldn't be too hard.

  And it wasn't.

  By lunch time, it was like the entire class was Haruna's friend. Girls in their grade had flocked around them right from the start wanting to be their friends. It looked like once it got around who Gabrielle's brother was and who Haruna's grandparents had been, they became hot commodities.

  It was overwhelming for Gabrielle, but Haruna felt differently about it. She enjoyed the attention, the waves and hellos of passing students, the affirmations from those she didn't even have classes with. When it was time to head home for the day, Sam offered to drive them in that same convertible—even though home was walking distance. Haruna didn't mind because once everyone else saw two junior students with the gorgeous, extremely cool senior student—the two girls became invincible.

  By the end of the week, Haruna felt right at home at the Academy. She didn't feel bad that she didn't graduate with the others at the Catholic school she had attended since kindergarten. And she no longer felt awkward in her uniform, even if she didn’t look half as beautiful as Lindsay. Haruna had found herself here. And it was fantastic.

  On Friday morning, Haruna had come to class early to get a head start. She liked being early. No one was there. No one except that boy. The strange boy who had been sitting beside Seth at the assembly with his mop of dark hair. He was staring out the window, not for a second looking away to acknowledge the presence of someone entering. She could barely recall his full name, though she thought she might have heard the teacher attempt it once during attendance-taking. Did he ever speak? She wasn't sure, but when she thought about it, she realised he was the only person in the class she hadn't spoken to yet. Weird. Their class size wasn't very big. He must have chosen to isolate himself.

  Was he shy?

  Haruna walked over and gave a gentle tap on his shoulder.

  The boy turned, his tired, narrow eyes large, his brows lifted. He was surprised by her even though a certain emptiness about his expression was unchanged. Haruna pulled her hand away. Fast. As though she had touched something hot. All of a sudden she felt uncomfortable, wondering why she had done something so bold as to touch him. Especially since they had never spoken before. She quickly put forth a smile.

  “Hi, I'm Haruna! And you're… Ryu, right?" She tried to sound cheerful but she was certain the words came out a little too loud and squeaky instead.

  Something of annoyance flickered across his face as he mumbled, "That's not how you say it."

  Haruna stared, blank-faced. She could swear that's how she had always heard the teacher say it.

  "The teacher says it wrong," he then said as though reading her mind. "It's not 'Ry-you.' If people can't say it right, I wish they wouldn't say it at all."

  Haruna frowned.

  "Well then teach people how to say it. Don't just let people call you anything they want if it bothers you."

  Ryu looked taken aback for a moment as though he hadn't expected Haruna to reply. Strangely, he half-smiled, maybe realising she wasn't walking away either. He seemed somehow livelier, like a whole new person, even with just a half-smile. He was actually kind of cute. Just a little, anyway.

  "How did a white kid like you get a Japanese name?"

  Haruna balked. Wait. Where on earth did a question like that come from?

  "I am Japanese!" Haruna sputtered back.

  Elbow on his desk, Ryu nestled his chin in his palm. He sneered, "No way."

  "I am! I was born there!" Haruna huffed. Sure, even she knew she didn't look that Asian, what with her chronically tangling, wavy hair that refused to lay straight. Hair she kept short, braided or pulled back to hide its rebelling, frizzing ways. Sure, she had light eyes, and pale, too pale skin. She tanned well in the summer. Sometimes. But that was fine. No, in fact, it was great. Haruna took after her mother, not her father. That's what Grandmother always said. And yet, the way Ryu said what he said still made her react defensively as if she actually had something to defend. She didn't know why she was suddenly angry, but this guy—this guy was so rude, it was outrageous!

  "Gosh! All I was trying to do was be friends, you know?" Her voice was reduced to a whimper.

  He regarded her dully. He didn’t speak further as though perhaps analysing, contemplating whether it was worth it to further any discussion. With an indifferent shrug, he turned his head. The bell rang and the room began to fill with arriving classmates. Not just classmates—friends. Friends that loved her and didn't ask her stupid questions, challenge her Japaneseness or whatever, or complain about how she said their name. Haruna scoffed and made for her desk. He was definitely not cute. Not at all.

  Two o'clock in the afternoon, partway through Phys. Ed., Haruna, Gabrielle and a few of the other girls were panting, and hunched over after finishing their first set of laps around the outdoor track. Haruna hated, more than anything, hated running. The last thing she needed was an asthma attack right out in the open for everyone to see. While the group had given way to stretching, Haruna slipped away, still feeling too hot and breathless. She decided to calm herself with several sips of water but then she realised she must have been pretty nervous because she had managed to empty her entire bottle. She took the opportunity to excuse herself and refill at the fountain.

  There she heard the voices, hushed, as though not wanting anyone to hear.

  "Oh, Seth's in Reiner's class. He's really cool, but his friend is weird, eh? He doesn't talk at all."

  "That Asian guy?"

  Haruna stood upright and stiffened, feeling the slight pain in her back from moving so suddenly. She ignored the soreness and turned her head. Two boys and a girl from her class were sitting at a bench, talking in secret.

  That Asian guy? Did they mean Ryu? He was Seth's friend and the only "Asian guy" in their class. One of very few in their grade even.

  "His shoes are old and dirty too. Even his uniform doesn't fit right," said the girl.

  One boy nodded in agreement.

  "He's such a skid. He gives this school a bad name."

  Haruna thought back to earlier that morning when she had spoken to Ryu. She hadn't noticed it then but it was true, wasn't it? She remembered his striped necktie, the same necktie all students wore. It wasn't even done properly: knotted awkwardly, slack and off-centre. He was sloppy-looking, like he didn't care or try. May
be talking to him had been a bad idea.

  "Not a lot of them live around here now, but there's a lot moving in. My dad says they're taking over."

  Haruna froze. Who's taking over? Who is "them”? She peeked again. She wasn't sure which of the boys had said it. When she looked, however, she realised that they had at long last noticed her there. Haruna spun away, her back to them, pretending she hadn't heard.

  "Shh! She could probably hear you," the girl whispered, though loudly.

  "Oh, she's different though. She's only half. And she doesn't even look it."

  Haruna didn't quite understand the ache she felt, like something clawing in the pit of her stomach. She lowered her head feeling, well, she didn't know what she was feeling. She was different? What did that even mean? Haruna didn't want to hear more. Drawing away from the fountain, she charged on, but then she felt herself slam into something dense.

  Haruna's bottle clattered from her grasp and clanged against the concrete. In that split-second she could smell the scent. Warm. Fresh. Familiar. It wasn't something. It was someone. When she pulled away from the person's chest she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

  The person before her, the person who smelled nice… that person was Ryu.

  Ryu was expressionless. He stared distractedly, only for a second, then bent over to retrieve her bottle. He held it out to her. Haruna was speechless as she gaped at the bottle in his hand, then up at him, then his hand again. That's when it started. The light-headedness. The bubbling in her stomach. It came out of nowhere. Also coming out of nowhere was a sudden self-awareness, recalling that those three were still there on that bench probably watching this all unfold. Watching with judging eyes as she and he stood there. He was weird. And quiet. And strange. And dirty—even though he smelled good—but still, he was this person and she wasn't like him—she was different.