Grey Eyes

by Ramey, Quinteria; Alston, Brandon

  “I lived in South Carolina for a while, then I moved up here to stay with my grandmother. I’ve only been in Brighton for a couple of days.” I wasn’t certain how much I should tell her.

  “Well don’t you worry a bit,” she said patting my knee. “I’ve been here for a couple ‘a months now. I’ll look out for you. First thing you need to watch out for are those rich kids from the other side of town—they think they’re a step above everyone else.”

  Yikes. When I didn’t answer, she realized her mistake. “Your grandmother isn’t from…”

  I nodded.

  She buried her face into her hands. “I’m so bad at this. I’m sorry. I’ve lived in one place my whole life—I never imagined I’d have to start over like this.”

  “How about we start over?” I suggested.

  She uncovered her face. “That would be so great.”

  “Asking for my name is usually a good place to start.”

  Her eyes got big again. “I didn’t—oh gosh, I’m sorry. What’s your name?”

  “It’s Ana.”

  She smiled and shook my hand again. “Hello Ana, I’m Taylor.”

  If not for Taylor’s arrival, I doubt I would have made it through orientation with any shred of my sanity intact. It might have been bearable had there been breaks or even the possibility of stepping out into the hallway for some air. There wasn’t. We weren’t to leave the auditorium for any reason; if you had to use the restroom you did it in bathrooms inside the auditorium. Every one of the school rules was explained and discussed—at length. Was it really necessary to explain why setting school property on fire was a bad idea? And then there was the singing. Apparently, our school was once two separate schools, so naturally we had to learn two different alma maters—followed by a “fun” mix of the two. It was a mind numbing experience.

  Once I got an indication that the orientation was winding down, I suggested to Taylor that we make a break for it—I wasn’t very keen on the idea of getting swept up in a sea of freshmen. Taylor wasn’t as eager. “But what if we get caught?” she asked. I could see myself in her eyes. Hesitant. Cautious. It was the version of myself that I was suddenly desperate to get away from. The urge to do something reckless was boiling in my veins. Goodness knows where it came from.

  “Ready?”

  Taylor shook her head. “Ana…you’re not seriously gonna...?”

  “Come on!”

  I started down the aisle at a run, apologizing for the book bags I was kicking over and the new shoes that were getting stepped on. I looked over my shoulder to find Taylor a few seats behind me, using the path I’d cleared to catch up to me. Once we’d reached the stairs, I took a hold of her hand and we sprinted for the exit.

  “Hey! Stop!” called a wide man in glasses that was leaning against the back wall. He started after us.

  The hallway was completely empty when we came bursting out of the auditorium.

  “There!” said Taylor, pointing to the girl’s restroom. We ran inside and slammed the door shut. Once inside, we both collapsed on the floor, completely out of breath, red in the face, and giggling like six year olds.

  “You’re crazy!” said Taylor grinning and shaking her head. She’d lost her hat in the escape, so her curly auburn colored hair now fell over her shoulders.

  “Not crazy,” I replied. “Just mentally fatigued.” I wasn’t sure if I should be proud or worried.

  Once we heard the bell ring, Taylor and I slipped out of the bathroom and blended into the busy hallway, following the mass of bodies to the lunch room. Like everything else about this school, it was enormous. What looked like a hundred small tables filled up the nearest two thirds of the wide space, with a cafeteria situated against the far end, and an array of vending machines directly at its center. Giant bumblebees were painted on each of the walls, and on the ceiling, in 10,000 point font, were two words: “The Beehive.”

  Having attended my fair share of schools, I knew that there existed the same clichéd system to how lunchrooms were filled, with only minor variances. Every group would have their own area: the popular kids sat in one place (upperclassmen that is, the popular underclassmen usually sat in another area, praying to get called up to the upperclassman table so that they might enjoy it’s benefits sooner rather than later), the skateboarders hung out in another area, the intellectually inclined another, and so on and so on. The best thing for a newbie, I’d learned, was to join a table of fellow newbies, which unfortunately meant freshmen.

  After grabbing some chips and a couple of sodas, Taylor, heeding my advice, picked us out a seat amongst a group of freshman boys who were discussing, rather loudly, which college football team would win the championship this year. I did my best to talk her out of it, explaining the perils of fourteen year old boys, but the girl’s friendliness, and die-hard devotion to the University of Texas won out. She sat down and traded words with each of them, that is until a mysterious quiet fell over the table and she realized that they were much more interested in how well she filled out her top than they were in which football team ended up on top.

  I led an utterly disgusted Taylor to a secluded spot beneath a fake tree and surveyed the large area. It wasn’t difficult to spot the popular tables, they were all pushed together, and the football player’s all wore numbered t-shirts with their names on their backs. I spotted London amongst them, looking every bit the future supermodel. Thankfully, she and Darren were as far apart as was possible in their little group. When I noticed that he was checking the door every couple minutes, I could feel myself blushing.

  “He’s certainly a cutie,” said Taylor with her slow southern drawl.

  I dropped my head and tried to resist the smile that was slipping across my face.

  “So when you gonna go talk to him?” she followed.

  “I have…I mean I know him. He gave me a ride to school. We’re kinda friends already.”

  “Then why are you hiding over here like a chicken in a nugget factory?”

  Because I was scared to death of London, that’s why. No voodoo mind tricks for me, thank you. “I just don’t want to bother him.”

  She smiled. “Looks like he wants to bother you.”

  I turned to find Darren standing over me with a wide grin. “There you are.”

  “Hi,” I practically whispered.

  “Why don’t you come sit with us, a lot of them were at your welcome party.”

  I looked over at the table. If looks could kill, I’d be dead in my next life too. London was furious.

  “I’m okay, really.”

  He sighed. “Then I guess I’ll have to do this here. Stand up.”

  I just stared. “Why?”

  Taylor answered for him. “Because he’s hot and he said to. Go on, do it.”

  “You trust me don’t you?” he asked, with a sneaky grin.

  “I guess so.”

  Taylor laughed. “Look at you, all scared. Where’s that crazy girl from before?”

  I stood up. He leaned over and as his lips touched mine, everything else faded away. Only Darren existed in that moment, he and the electricity shooting throughout my body. When he pulled away, I had to remember to breathe again, while Taylor and the entire lunch room stared at us with open mouths. Especially London.

  ********************

  One more class to go. Then I’d see him again. If I had any favor with the cosmos, any favor at all, then Carlos would have gotten after school suspension today and I’d get Darren all to myself.

  Taylor and I had three classes together, we’d discovered, unfortunately, Algebra II wasn’t one of them. I would suffer this hour alone, with no one to chat with and no one to take my mind off of the boy who’d given me my first kiss. A very public first kiss.

  It was only five minutes into class and I was already ignoring Mrs. Moorer, planning out a fall wedding in my head. I immediately hated myself for being that girl, but at least I hadn’t started drawing hearts in my notebook with both our names in
the middle. Not that I was sure which was worse. Mrs. Moorer’s voice thundered across the classroom.

  “Melanie, Britney, phones please.”

  Two blonde haired girls groaned and stomped up to the front of the classroom where they deposited their cell phones on Mrs. Moorer’s desk. They were twice as loud on the way back to their seats.

  “You two know my policy,” she began. “Don’t text in my class unless it’s something you don’t mind the whole class knowing about. Let’s see…Melanie sent: “Omg! Omg! O…M…G.” Love the vocabulary Melanie.” She continued. “To which Britney responds with: “What?” Melanie answers with: “It’s her, the girl Darren kissed in front of everybody!” To which Britney responds with, and I quote, “Omg…Omg…Omg…”

  If only someone had taught me how to turn myself invisible. The entire class was laughing and shooting me sideways glances. Mrs. Moorer picked up on it.

  “Star quarterback, Darren?” she asked the class.

  “Yes!” the girls answered in unison.

  She eyed me and smiled. “Heck of a first day Ms. Adams. Well, as long as you don’t go breaking his heart before any of the games, it’s alright by me. This is our year, isn’t guys?”

  The whole class hooted and hollered. Then came a knock on the door. Mrs. Moorer looked slightly embarrassed and said that it was probably just another teacher wondering what all the noise was about. She got up to answer and then stepped outside.

  He followed her back into the classroom. My heart dropped down into my stomach. He handed Mrs. Moorer a note, and then came and sat down in the empty seat next to me. Shellshocked, I pretended not to see him.

  “Excuse me, son,” said Mrs. Moorer, eyeing the note. “May I have a word with you?”

  He didn't answer. My curiosity won out; when I looked up, his big green eyes were staring at me. He wouldn’t even blink. My heart pounded against my rib cage. He smiled smugly, as though he could hear it, and then turned his attention to Mrs. Moorer.

  “Okay,” he said politely.

  “This note is supposedly from Mr. Pardonelli. Only, Mr. Pardonelli called in sick this morning. I don’t know who you are, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  When his eyes found mine again, they were tense. “If I come for you, will you leave with me?”

  I searched his face. He looked so desperate, so familiar…

  I nodded. I didn’t remember telling myself to do so, but I had. I’d never seen someone look so relieved. He jumped up from his desk and darted for the door. A boy in the front row reached out his foot to trip him but he avoided it without even dropping his head.

  He was gone. And once again, all eyes were on me.

  Chapter 12

  Come

  “Come,” Mrs. Moorer called, waving me toward her. She’d positioned herself in the doorway, and was rapidly moving her head back and forth in the hall. I did as she asked, feeling the white-hot stares of my classmates follow me as I moved. I ignored their whispers. Once I’d joined her at the door, Mrs. Moorer wrapped her right arm around my shoulders and took me quickly up the empty hallway. Looking back, I could see the others leaning out of the classroom, staring after us.

  “Where are we going?” I asked her, feeling her iron grip pull me closer.

  Mrs. Moorer didn’t answer right away. Her eyes were darting around in their sockets, watching everything and everyone. “I don’t think you understand how grave the situation is Anastasia.” Her voice dropped low. “That boy, he was a vampire—inside Brighton. That isn’t supposed to happen. Until we’ve figured everything out, you’ll be safest at home.”

  I wasn’t sure which was more shocking, Mrs. Moorer being a witch, or being told that my visitor had been a vampire. Okay, definitely the latter. A door flung open directly in front of us.

  “Is everything alright?” asked a stubby chocolate colored woman as she stepped out of an office.

  Mrs. Moorer didn’t miss a beat. “This student is very sick, Principal Reardon. I’m taking her up to the nurse’s office right now.”

  “But—“ replied Principal Reardon. It was too late. We’d already turned into another hallway.

  We walked the length of this second hallway to the gray double doors at the end. She stepped out first, and then called for me a few seconds later. She retook her protective stance, keeping me close to her body, and we ran, as fast as was possible, to a small gray compact in the teacher’s parking lot. Once we were inside, she backed out of her space and then sped out toward the main road.

  She pushed the car through traffic at a dizzying pace, running through yellow lights and going around red ones. I kept an eye out for police lights. She looked hysterical. I gripped my seatbelt. This could only end badly.

  After reaching the “Old Brighton” sign, the car finally slowed, and she pulled onto the shoulder of the road. Her breaths were heavy and her forehead was covered in sweat.

  She pounded her fist against the steering wheel.

  “Are you alright Mrs. Moorer?” I asked, cautiously.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping her forehead with her sleeve. “It’s just that…if they’ve found a way to enter the city, everyone in our community is in terrible danger.”

  “Mrs. Moorer…” I said softly.

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t think he was a vampire. I’ve seen him before—he snuck up to my room last night. He’s just some stupid boy from the neighborhood. My grandmother said so herself.”

  Again she was quiet. She began to shake her head and kinda zoned out. “It is strange that it could be so close to you and yet have the restraint necessary not to attack. But the way it moved, the ease with which it avoided Charlie’s foot, I’d know that supernatural grace anywhere. I was about your age when those animals descended upon my grandparent’s farm. I was in the barn—I’d snuck out to meet some friends there. As I kept an eye out for a sign that my grandparents might have gotten out of bed, they appeared on the horizon. I thought they were angels at first sight, so beautiful, their movements so effortless. My grandparents had never told me about the existence of vampires. Those demons ensured that they’d never get the chance.”

  She reached under her seat and came up with a cell phone. I watched her dial a number and hold it up to her ear. Immediately, I remembered what my grandmother had said to me last night, how she’d stressed the importance of protecting me. My grandmother finding out about what happened was going to cause the mother of all overreactions, I was sure of it. I tried to think of something to say, something to make her see that she had to be wrong. Another vampire in my room? It was just impossible.

  “Mrs. Moorer, he doesn’t even look like a—“

  She put her hand up to silence me.

  “Duncan,” she said into the receiver. “Sound the alarm.”

  By the time Mrs. Moorer and I pulled into the parking area on the near side of the house, it had already been filled with vehicles, with dozens more resting in the surrounding grass. Duncan was waiting for us, pacing the center of the paved space with obvious concern.

  “What’s happened Sharon?” he called, running up to meet the car as we came to a stop.

  “A vampire, Duncan,” she answered through the open window. “Inside the city limits! It literally sat down beside her today at school. They’re toying with us Duncan—how else to explain its giving up such an easy kill? Of an heir, no less! There’s no telling how many may have entered the city without our knowledge.”

  Mrs. Moorer’s mouth opened to say something more but she’d suddenly remembered my presence. “We should get her inside,” she suggested. “We’ll have more words once she’s safe.”

  Duncan led me quickly across the grounds, taking the same protective stance with me as Mrs. Moorer had done. My grandmother was waiting at the entrance to the ballroom. She rushed towards us once she’d noticed our approach.

  “Are you alright?” she asked, wrapping her arms around me. “What happened?”

  �
�I’m okay,” I replied. “That boy from the other night snuck into my classroom. Mrs. Moorer thinks that he’s a vampire.”

  “A vampire?” my grandmother scoffed, breaking our embrace. “Impossible.”

  “She seems fairly certain,” Duncan inserted.

  “I don’t care how she seems. To get everyone worked up like this over nonsense. It’s reprehensible.”

  She called to Helena, who was passing by the ballroom’s entrance inside.

  “Yes,” Helena answered, stepping out into the sunlight.

  “Call the “heirs” and tell them that they’re presence isn’t necessary—“

  “Shouldn’t we at least hear her out?” Duncan interrupted.

  “I will not have the other heirs leaving the safety of their havens for what I know to be impossible,” my grandmother answered. “I have a good mind to cancel tonight’s meeting as well.”

  “I’d like to hear what our heir has to say on the matter,” Duncan said, firmly.

  My grandmother’s jaw clenched. “Very well, then.”

  Both their eyes turned to me, and I felt every bit the deer in headlights. I wilted in the glare.

  “I don’t…I mean, whatever you guys think,” I mumbled.

  My grandmother put her arm around me. “She’s not ready for—“

  “Let her speak,” Duncan insisted. “Ask yourself this, Ana,” Duncan said in a calm voice. He lowered himself so that his eyes were level with mine. “Can we really afford to be wrong?”

  I glanced up at my grandmother and swallowed hard before answering. “Maybe she should get a chance to speak.”

  “It is decided then,” Duncan announced, crossing his arms.

  My grandmother looked furious. “I suppose it is.”

  My grandmother and Duncan stayed to speak to Mrs. Moorer, who had just emerged from the path with several of the kids from school. I’d wanted to wait to see if Darren was with them, but my grandmother insisted I go inside to show everyone that I was alright. I didn’t want to go against her again; she was my grandmother after all.