Summer break is over so now is the time for the endless cycle to begin. Wake up, go to school, repeat. Weekend, wake up, avoid mother, repeat and return to school. Life isn't as glamorous for some of us. My overbearing mother never ceases to express her distaste for my lack of finer things or that I don't put too much effort into aesthetically pleasing...well anyone really. I enjoy my long light brown, slightly auburn, might I add naturally loose curled hair. It's one of the few things I actually like about myself. I don't know how many times my mother has tried to bribe me into putting on some eyeshadow to enhance my as she puts it "big beautiful green eyes" but honestly I prefer a more natural look than to wake up an hour early and try and "vogue" myself into existence, just for no one to notice anyways.
The first day of Senior year at Falmount high has arrived. I reach over and smack the alarm clock button to turn it off as I'm sure it's been buzzing for the last five minutes during my spaced out thoughts and probably a previous ten minutes before I actually woke up. I rise like a crypt keeper from my bed and drag my feet to my closet. I can hear my Mother in an impatient voice yelling from the kitchen down stairs "your oatmeal is getting cold Emory, and you still have a 15 minute walk to school!"
I slap on my jeans that I've just come to realise are a smidge tight now that I've "grown my curves" as my mother so elegantly puts it and my go to burgundy button up and grab my trusty black flats and wrap my hair in a loose bun as I hop down stairs to appease the breakfast patrol I call Mom.
As I finish my Oatmeal in record time I don't make it out the door fast enough after I brush my teeth to avoid an awaited "you really should put more effort into dressing yourself, you're too pretty and too young" comment. One mechanical eyeroll and a quick "I love you" in response and out the door I go. I know she means well but yikes!
On my walk to school I ponder about my Mother and how I know all she wants for me is the best. It's always been her and I ever since my Dad passed away when I was four years old. He use to be an English teacher at Falmount high and a part time college professor. I don't know too many details of his untimely passing, only that it was a gruesome scene from a hit and run on Hill street a mere five miles from our then house. A scene that's burned into my mother's memory...a scene with the label "unsolved."
I don't have many friends. To be specific I technically only have one, Adrian. My trusty partner in crime since six years old! So as I walk towards the old wooden doors she's there with her bright blonde hair with dipped blue tips and her 90s retro grunge look in full bloom!
"What the heck took you so long? The bell is about to ring and and we are no where near where we need to be!" She growls.Despite the hard front Adrian puts on with her appearance she is a bit over compulsive with being on time and her whole high school career. "Sorry I woke up late and then got bombarded by the usual Remy comments" I reply. "Ahh, yeah love your Mom but she can be a bit..." I cut in "Dramatic? Overbearing? Relentless?" Adrian snorts and chuckles up a laugh. "Just a little, now let's go before we're late!"
We make it down the the North hall and part ways. My first class of senior year is my homeroom aka Chemisty, yay me! I walk through the door as the bell rings praying to the sweet Lord above that Adrian made it on time to spare myself the mini Remy lecture from my best friend that would be invading my lunchtime and eardrums.
I scan the room and find an empty seat in the back right corner. I'm thankful for that. I'm not an outgoing or social person. And even though my academics are on point I try to avoid any classroom interactions with the teachers and student body.
Mr.Glokin introduces himself and gives a brief summary of our curriculum this quarter. Thankfully I've studied a head this past summer. I want my last year at Falmount to be a smooth ride. Senior year is suppose to be a breeze. I'm not into the football games and parties like most people my age. I'd rather curl up in bed and read a book or find a binge worthy show on one of the many streaming services they have these days.
I lean over to grab my things from my bookbag as we've been instructed to open our text books and Chemistry journals when I hear a creek from the door opening. As I look up I see a boy...man...boy...man boy? Wow he doesn't look like a high school student...more like a college student. He stands at average height I'd say around 5'9" but his broad shoulders and thick muscular body makes him tower especially next to Mr.Glokin and his small frame. I can't help but notice his long dark curly shoulder length hair slicked back and his fair olive skin tone against his dark brown eyes. Is fair olive even a skin tone? I guess if not, it certainly is now...I almost didn't notice the small quarter size tattoo placed on the left side of his neck. Is that a Sun? He's too far away to be sure. What high school student has a tattoo? I shake my head and dismiss my ever growing curiosity. What is wrong with me?
Mr.Davian Ambrosia I presume Mr.Glokin greets him a long with a hand shake and forwards his greeting with "Welcome to Chemistry and to Falmount, I've heard great things about you. Please take a seat and pull out your text book and journal" he waves his hand in a gestured dismissal.
"Thank you" Davian replies subtly but with a deep tone as he nods then scans the room for an empty seat I'm guessing. He walks to the right of the room to the back where I am and sits down next to me in the only empty desk and chair available to my seated right. I can smell his scent musky yet feminine...almost like firewood mixed with soothing lavender.
Mr.Glokin starts off the course but I'm too consumed with my curiosity to comprehend what he's teaching. I glance side eyed over to Davian to see if I can get a better look at the tattoo he has on his neck. It's a very plainly drawn Sun with flowing edges meant to be beams from its light. But also simplicity beautiful if I must be honest. I wonder what it means to him...or if he has more...
The bell rings interrupting my thoughts and I quickly pack up my things. As I stand I apparently had been too distracted as I didn't zip my bag up and it all comes crashing down as I attempt to sling it over my back. I bend down and mentally face palm myself. Most of the class has a small laugh at my clumsy expense as they leave. I slowly gather my things and let out a sigh when suddenly I see black boots in front of my face and another pair of hands gathering my things off the floor as the smell of masculine lavender invades my nostrils. I instantly know before I look up that it's Davian.
"Chivalry is dead these days" his tone deep and piercing he continues with saying "One of those days?" he asks softer. "Uhm yeah, apparently so" I reply with a laugh. "It'll get better...it usually does" he says with a small smile on his face. "Yeah I sure hope so" I reply with a returned grin.
As we stand up I thank him quickly for his help. "Anytime" he starts walking away then turns around and adds with a pointed finger "All though I hope you have much better days" with a smirk he turns once more for the door and walks from the classroom.
I lift my bookbag onto my desk and zip it this time around, sling it over my shoulder and head to English.
I take my seat in the usual back corner that I always find comforting and lose myself in thought once more.
It almost feels as if there's some type of invisible force pulling my curiosity. I force myself once more to lose those thoughts and try and focus on class.
