by Sean Hayden
I slid into my desk, pulled my book out of my backpack, and opened it to a random page. The sounds of Mr. Johnson’s chalk striking the board were the only ones in the classroom. I took a quick peek at my new friend and I saw her tilt her head away from me like she listened to the mathematical equations being drawn on the board. She gave a little smile, I sighed at the cuteness of it, and she smiled a little more. Embarrassed, I paid attention to the board.
Johnson stopped writing and stepped away from his equation. He looked around the room for a victim, I mean volunteer, and I slid as low in my seat as possible. I shouldn’t have moved at all. Teachers have vision just like a Tyrannosaurus Rex and only see movement.
“Mr. Sullivan, why don’t you come up to the board and show our new student the ease at which you can solve the equation?”
“I’d rather not, sir. I planned on explaining everything to her so she knows where we are…”
“I’d rather you did. Up here now, please. You can explain to the whole class exactly what you’re doing.”
Undercurrents of laughter spread through the room and forced blood and heat to rise into my cheeks. I gave a little sigh, resigned myself to my doom, and made my way to the front of the class. My hand shook as I reached for the tiny sliver of chalk in the metal tray beneath the blackboard that seemed to have grown four times its normal size. Slowly, I lifted my hand and gripped the chalk between my thumb and finger. With a small puff of dust it shattered into three-hundred and seventeen pieces.
I mean that literally. Time froze and my brain picked out not only each piece of chalk suspended in the air between my hand and the floor, but the thirty-six pieces still trapped between my thumb and finger. I closed my eyes and shook my head.
“Today, Mr. Sullivan.”
I looked back at Johnson standing at the rear of the classroom with his arms folded over his brown suit jacket. I gave a wan little smile and turned back around, reaching for another piece of chalk. This time I gripped it as lightly as possible without dropping it to the linoleum floor.
I gave a nervous laugh at my shaking hand as it brought the chalk to the board right under the jumble of numbers Mr. Johnson left to torture me. I closed my eyes, opened them, and tried to focus. The numbers seemed to float in front of the board and started to glow almost blue. They stayed the color as the letters in the equations flared red. My hand became a blur and my mouth started giving a play-by-play recap of everything my hand did like some crazed sports announcer on television. The worst part of the whole thing was my brain understood everything I said. As I wrote the final answer on the board and boxed it in, the last of my breath flew from my lungs and I spun to face the class.
Everyone stared, and by everyone I mean every student (including the blind one) and the teacher. They sat there open mouthed like I'd sprouted wings. I glanced behind me to make sure I hadn’t.
“Is that right?”
Mr. Johnson nodded at my question and I gave a quick sigh before heading back to my empty seat and tried very hard to make myself as small as possible.
Chapter 8
“Welcome to hell.”
“Excuse me?” Even I could hear the confusion in Jessica’s voice.
“I’m sorry, did I say hell? I meant the cafeteria.” I smiled when she giggled. I smiled bigger when her hand tightened around my wrist. My face nearly broke in half when she tripped and ended up in my arms. “Are you okay?”
“I am now, thanks for catching me.”
“My pleasure,” I said and meant it.
I led her over to the table I usually sat at with Jeremy and pulled the seat out for her. “What are you doing?”
“It’s your first day. I’ll get us food and be right back.” I saw her struggling with her own sense of independence. “Tomorrow, you can get us food and I’ll sit on my butt.”
“Deal,” she said and felt around the contours of the chair before sitting down at the table.
“Hope you like Alpo. Don’t worry, I’ll get kibbles too.”
Another small laugh and another huge smile.
I did feel guilty knowing she thought I was joking about the food. Sometimes I swore they really were serving us dog-food. I made my way into lunch lady land and smelled the sloppy-joes before I saw them. Shuddering, I forced myself to keep the remnants of pretzel in my stomach. I grabbed the cream colored lunch tray from the stack at the start of the line. I started off slowly in the Jell-o section and browsed my choices solemnly. I avoided the fruit filled ones, knowing the fruit probably came from a can produced somewhere around the time our school had been built. I settled for two small cups of plain orange.
Next came the cheerleader food, little Styrofoam bowls of lettuce and sliced veggies. Due to my companion’s feminine nature, I grabbed one of them and slid it on the tray with a packet of ranch dressing. I never met a girl who didn’t eat salad and ranch dressing.
I slid the tray down the metal rails and faced my greatest fear, the dreaded sloppy-joes of James Underwood High. I looked up at Mrs. Sanchez in her blue pants, white shirt, and greasy spatula. I closed my eyes in resigned determination, and nodded. I didn’t want to look. I felt her drop the evil on a bun onto my tray. I could feel it mocking me, teasing me, threatening my very innards. I tried not to look down as I slid forward, grabbed two cans of Coke, and made my way to the cashier.
“Only one sandwich?”
“Yeah, too much of a good thing and all that,” I said through gritted teeth. She must have caught my sarcasm, because she let out a cackle, sending shivers down my spine.
I made my way back to the table and found Jeremy talking to Jessica. “What up, Jer?”
“Connor, what happened to you last night? I called you after work but nobody answered.” I looked at Jeremy funny. I'd gone home and crashed, but the rest of the family should have been home.
“I crashed hard. Nobody else answered?” I set the tray down and sat down next to Jessica. “Sloppy-joe or salad?”
“Salad, please. I can smell the sloppy-joes,” she replied with a frown.
I picked up the salad, soda, and Jell-o and arranged everything in front of her. “I got you Jell-o, too. It’s usually safe enough to eat. If the sloppy-joe kills me, call the paramedics would you?” She laughed at my joke and I tried not to bubble over.
Jeremy raised one eyebrow at me and looked at Jessica.
“Did you two introduce yourselves?”
“Yeah, she’s the new kid everyone’s talking about.” As soon as the words left his lips, Jeremy regretted it.
“Everybody’s talking about the blind kid, huh? Don’t worry about it, I’m used to it.” It really didn’t seem to bother her and my respect level jumped even higher for her. “I’ve been blind for ten years. Some things never change. I’m guessing from the way your principal tripped all over himself to accommodate me, I’m the only one at the school?”
“You might be the only one in town,” Jeremy said without any hint of embarrassment.
“Sweet, I should start a club.”
“How did you lose your sight?” I asked. It had been killing me all day.
“They diagnosed me with macular degeneration, but it ended up being a series of small tumors on my optic nerves. They did everything they could.”
“I’m sorry,” I said and meant it.
“You son of a bitch, you gave me the tumors?”
“Huh?”
“Relax, Connor, I’m kidding. It’s not your fault I’m blind and it’s sort of my way of saying, ‘Don’t say sorry.’ Trust me. I’ve grown quite used to not being able to see. I miss it, but I’m not bitter or angry.”
“You’re really cool, Jessie. I hope you know that.”
“I do. Pass the salt. And don’t call me Jessie, ever.”
“Why?” Jeremy finally piped in.
“My last name is James. If either of you call me Jessie again, I’ll beat you with my cane until you bleed.”
“No problem, Jessie,” we said in stereo.
“Thanks for helping me today. I really appreciate it.” Jessie squeezed my arm as we stepped through the front doors of the school into the chilly afternoon air.
“I didn’t mind at all. I’m kind of looking forward to helping you tomorrow, too.” She didn’t say anything, but I think I saw a little blush rush to her cheeks. “How are you getting home?”
“My dad is picking me up. He works from home, so lucky me.”
“Just wanted to see if you needed me to walk you home,” I said and it sounded lame to me, too. “Maybe Friday?” I tried not to sound pathetic.
“It’s a date.”
“Is it?”
“It is,” she said and gave me a little smile, warming me from the inside out. “Do you see a black Cadillac waiting anywhere?”
I tore my gaze from the little smile on her lips and looked around the parent pick-up line. Sure enough, at the head of the line sat a shiny brand new black Cadillac Escalade with blinding chrome rims. I cocked my right eyebrow up in surprise. Not too many families in Cedar Hills were very well off. Since the economic landslide, even they didn’t have the money to tote around their kids in a car that cost as much as most houses in the area. “Big, black Escalade?”
“Yup, that’s my dad,” she answered and I thought I detected a modicum of embarrassment in her voice.
“Are you guys in the witness protection program?” I gave a little inward groan at my own stupidity. The joke left my lips before my “don’t look like an ass” filter stopped it.
“No. Why?”
“Just don’t see too many Escalades in the area.”
“Ah. Dad is an author. He writes some spy thriller series that’s sold like a billion copies.”
I looked at her like she'd just stepped off a spaceship and had tentacles instead of arms. “And you live in Cedar Hills, why?”
“My grandparents grew up here. They died before I was born. My dad and my step-mother are getting a divorce. She got the big house, he chose to move here and get away from Philly.”
As soon as we got within twenty feet of the SUV, the driver's side door opened and my worst nightmare stepped out and walked around the back of the vehicle. He stood about six and a half feet tall. His long brown hair had been pulled back in a ponytail so tight the wind didn’t stand a chance against it. His brown eyes lit up when he saw his daughter, but narrowed into cat like slits when he saw her hand on my arm.
I gulped audibly, not from the venom in his gaze, but from the shimmer of the air around him. Mr. James wasn’t human, but he appeared to be. He had an orb on him somewhere, but I couldn’t tell where. I blinked twice and tried to see through the shroud around him. For some reason I couldn’t see through it and I didn’t know why.
I must have registered a fair amount of shock on my face. His narrowed eyes travelled from his daughter’s hand on my arm straight up to my eyes. His eyebrow cocked several inches above what my practiced in the mirror eyebrow lift could ever hope to attain.
I saw his lips move as he spoke several words under his breath. The light breeze that had been prevalent all week picked up and brought his words from his lips and settled them over my skin. I heard them as they settled and every other word ended in a soft “th” sound.
I shivered as his words tried to pull my human illusion away from me. I could feel my wings starting to spring forth from my back.
"No," I whispered and concentrated on being human.
Whatever tried to settle over me, snapped with an audible Pop.
I knew her dad wasn't human, but that scared me. For the life of me, I couldn't imagine what he could be. Had he wished to be some sort of wizard? I could see that. If I had thought about it before I wished to be one of the Fallen, I might have chosen that. Knowing invisibility spells would be really awesome...
Jessie tilted her head and tried to listen. “Are you okay?” She sounded confused.
“Yes, I thought I had to sneeze but it went away.”
She giggled and pulled me forward, closing the distance between me and her father. “Daddy, this is Connor. He’s been showing me around the school today.”
“Hello, Connor,” he said and held out a hand I had no intention of touching.
“Hello, Mr. James,” I responded and gently picked up Jessie’s hand from my wrist and put it in her father’s waiting hand.
Chapter 9
If the neighborhood wasn’t full of kids and other teens, I would have gone all Fallen and flown home. After meeting Mr. James, I wanted to hide and immerse myself in some serious PlayStation therapy. My parents always said video games are not the answer to everything.
They lied about other things, too.
The revving of an engine and a sharp honk behind me caused me to trip and fall to my knee. I glanced over my shoulder and saw a very familiar pink bug with a laughing blonde driver behind the wheel. I flicked her off over my shoulder and looked down to what I was sure would be a bloody mess, torn jeans, and a good deal of pain. I put my hands down and lifted my knee off the already cracked sidewalk and winced. My jeans had a huge rip where my knee met the concrete, but I didn’t see any blood. I didn’t even see a scratch, nor did I feel any pain. I shook my knee to test it and stood, finally noticing the knee shaped, crushed section of sidewalk.
“Cool,” I said and turned to give Claire a stern talking to.
“Come on, worm! We have work to do.”
I walked around to the passenger door and lifted the handle on the little Bug. She hadn’t unlocked the door and she sat there staring at me. “Come on Clari…Claire. Unlock the door.”
“What do you say?”
I knew she wanted a please. I would rather have my lower extremities dragged naked over a five mile stretch of fish tank pebbles than give it to her.
In a tiny fit of anger I pulled with everything I had. The tiny Bug slid the remaining six inches to the curb and the door pulled off the hinges with a groan and a snap. Holding up the door and looking at Clarisse through the rolled up window I watched as her face went from teasing, to rabid raccoon, and on to crazed sociopath. I dropped the door and ran.
I heard her door open and slam close. Yup, she wanted to kick my ass. I dipped off the sidewalk and ran past two kids with matching backpacks who seemed to be standing still. The rapid clip, clop of Clarisse’s undoubtedly designer shoes hitting the concrete not far behind me told me she was gaining.
The houses on the other side of the street backed up against woods, separating the mall from the residential areas. I figured that would be my best hope. I leapt over the tiny grassy patch separating the sidewalk from the street, bolted across the road, and ducked between two houses. I passed a man grilling hamburgers in the back yard, but he didn’t even look up as I ran past into the trees. I mistakenly assumed the trees meant safety.
As soon as I crossed the line between grass and the brown leaf and pine needle covered ground of the woods a rock obliterated the tree to my right. Splinters flew from the gaping hole and hit me in the face as I sped by. I spit out a hunk of bark and started weaving for my life. I should have saved the zigzag pattern for an alligator attack. Clarisse caught up quickly and kicked my legs out from underneath me. I spun a full circle before crashing against a medium sized oak.
In a daze I saw her sprout wings, her eyes started to glow, and she reached down and picked me up by my shirt collar.
“Stupid, worm,” she spat and threw me headfirst at a larger, sturdier looking specimen of a North American deciduous tree. I brought up my arms to stop my face from becoming one with the bark. The tree snapped as I hit it, and I prayed my arms didn’t do the same thing. I landed in a pissed off heap at the base of the tree.
Her hand closed on the back of my neck as she tried to lift me from my comfortable spot on the ground. A surge of anger flowed through me. My wings snapped into being and I turned around to see a look of surprise fill her face.
The thought of hitting a girl truly sickened my stomach, but Clari
sse just threw me headfirst into a tree. I pulled my knee up and kicked out to the side, catching her in the stomach and launching her up into the highest branches of the trees behind her. I smiled, rolled over on my stomach and picked myself up off the ground. Hearing a cracking noise behind me, I turned to see what caused it. I caught the foot thick tree trunk Clarisse used like a bat right in the chest. I hit the tree behind me with my back, and the forest dimmed in my vision.
A set of claws grabbed my shirt and pinned me to the tree, stopping me from sliding completely down to the ground again. When did she get those?
The impact seriously rattled my brain. I could taste blood in my mouth and the only thing I could see was Clarisse’s face filling my vision.
“Not bad, worm. Not bad at all,” she said and let go.
I slid down the tree and grabbed onto her hips with my legs, turning to face the ground as I fell. The scissor spin flung her down to the ground on her side and trapped her between my legs. She grabbed my knee with her talons and squeezed with everything she had. He nails pierced my flesh and muscle. I had no choice but to let go. As soon as I did, she scrambled to her feet and up a tree.
I tried to follow her movements, but my vision was still cloudy from my lumber shattering impact. I gasped for breath and looked around for her. I could hear several snaps of tiny tree limbs all around me as she circled, looking for an opening to attack.
I felt it more than heard it. A shifting of the air behind me and I knew she would be closing in for the kill. I didn’t turn until the very last second, and then I did a spinning roundhouse kick just like I'd seen in every kung-fu movie I ever watched. My foot connected with her jaw before I even saw her. The impact sent her flying away from me and she landed on her back, twenty yards away. Not wasting any time I scrambled over and pinned her down on the ground.