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Orangey blue sunlight poured in through my window. It was early and the sun hadn’t taken full control of the gray-blue sky yet. I stared at the ceiling for a while before rolling over and taking a look at the clock. It was six in the morning, a good time to wake up. With a groan, I rolled out of bed and stood shakily on the floor. Slouched and sloppy, I zombie walked over to the small wardrobe that my mother had provided me. I put on my pleated, navy blue skirt, white polo, and my school sweatshirt mechanically. When I snuck over to the bathroom to brush my teeth and make my hair somewhat presentable, I was surprised at how full and loud it already was. It made my head hurt, so I quickly did what I had to and rushed out. Danny was still sleeping when I got back. I thought about waking her, but decided to give her another twenty minutes of sleep. She got very cranky when she didn’t sleep enough.
Breakfast seemed inviting after sitting at my desk doing nothing for five minutes that felt like five hundred. I turned out into the long dark hall of our floor and went down the big oak stairs, stained dark brown. The stairs curled downward to the main floor. Each building had its own dining hall and the whole school had one big one for special days and events. It turned left at the bottom of the stairs and into our building’s dining hall. There were only a few round tables in the newly remodeled room. It was out of place. The linoleum floors and cold, white walls of the room didn’t match the beautiful old oak and brick of the rest of the building. I hated this room for ruining the charm of the building, but loved it for the food it provided.
A moment of breathing in the scent of fresh baked muffins passed before I got in line for breakfast. It was the one advantage of the school, home cooked meals. Well, as close to home cooked as you can get. After getting in line, someone else fell in behind me. I didn’t pay much attention to who it was at first, but looking toward the clock to catch the time forced me to see his eyes. Deep, purple-blue eyes that stared back at me . . . blankly. It was depressing.
There was a moment of me staring strangely at him and his blank stare on me before his expression changed – not a friendly one, I will add. His mouth pressed into a hard line and his eyebrows came together. I suddenly felt sick, angry, and even violent. I was confused, then. After the wave of anger passed I just felt confused. Confused about why he was glaring at me, why I felt so strongly about it, and also, why I had a sudden urge to kiss him – mostly confused about the latter.
“Hello,” I said in the most polite tone I could muster out of the situation. He didn’t say anything at first. His stare held and I swear his eyes turned red for the briefest moment. Perhaps I’m just insane? That’s probably it.
“Hi,” he finally responded coldly. His glare held a moment more, but now it was like he was trying to tell me something. He must have soon realized that I had no clue as to what that might be because his expression softened considerably. He looked friendly now. All the anger, odd urges, and nausea evaporated like it never existed and I smiled. I couldn’t help, but smile. Charismatic. Yes, that is how I would remember him.
“My name is Zachery,” he said coolly. Zachery. Not Zack, no Zack was far too informal to suit his sophisticated features and voice. Zachery, not Zack.
“I’m Alex,” I responded with a smile and held out my hand in greeting.
“I’m assuming that comes from Alexandra, or is it Alexia?” He asked as he shook my hand once. I found it an odd question.
“Yes, Alexandra,” I responded with a puzzled expression. He chuckled once to himself. It was so faint, I’m not sure I was meant to hear it. Inside joke, maybe? Did he find Alexandra an odd name for girls these days? Or maybe he preferred it over Alex? He was obviously a very formal person, so maybe the tomboyish nickname wasn’t his thing.
“Do you know what your name means?” He asked. Now that was an odd question. What kind of question is that? Honestly?
“No,” I responded sincerely. Why should I know what my name means? Really, though, how strange.
“It means ‘defender of mankind,’” he told me with a smile as he took a step. I hadn’t realized we were moving as we spoke. Nor did I realize that I’d picked up my breakfast already. It was an autopilot function, I suppose. We were walking to an empty table. A brief thought of Danny not waking up crossed me, but it didn’t tarry long.
“Oh,” I said, puzzled. He chuckled again, this time not so quietly. He was obviously picking up on my disinterest. I felt rude, but still I laughed. Charismatic.
We took a seat at one of the ugly plastic tables that, like the rest of the room, ruined the design of the beautiful building. Excuse me, prison.
“So,” I started after a moment of awkward silence. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he responded with a kind voice. “I transferred here from a similar boarding school in Pennsylvania, Beacon Hill Academy. Have you heard of it?” Had I heard of it? Of course I had. It was an amazing school. I tried for years to get into it. Hell, I’m still hoping they’ll look at my transcripts.
“Really?” I asked with excitement. “Why did you leave?” I was very curious as to why such an obviously intelligent person would leave that sort of opportunity.
“I missed my family,” he said with a sheepish grin. “They were living in Vermont while I was at Beacon Hill, but they needed to move here to Maine for business purposes. I didn’t want to be eve farther away when they did, so I moved with them and luckily we found here.” He made a gesture to the school. “At least I can visit on the weekends.”
Cute, very cute, but something about his story seemed untrue. I couldn’t decide what, but it did. I decided not to push it, though. I’m sure he had his reasons for lying.
“I see. So how do you like Maine, then?” I asked casually. I picked at my muffin, not really hungry. Another thought of Danny being late again ran through my head, but left as quickly as it had come.
“It’s nice. I like it a lot actually. I really liked Pennsylvania, but it didn’t have the ocean.” He chuckled sheepishly again. Aw, how sensitive. It still felt like he was lying.
“Yeah, I,” I cut myself off suddenly. I swear his eyes shot to red again. His expression hardened to the cold, stone like face I’d seen before.
“Excuse me,” he said quickly in a completely different voice as he stood up and left.
The odd emotions passed through me again – anger, vengeance, nausea, everything right down to wanting to kiss him. Then, blackness.