A Weeper's Kiss Beneath The Willow

A New Shadow Named Charlie

Chapter 1

The lunch bell rang before Mrs. Fanpi could begin announcing our new lab partners. The others in my Honors Biology class shuffled out the door within moments. They evacuated as if a plague was festering on their desks. I stretched out lazily and yawned, closing my eyes to the world. No one said a word to me. After the door finally closed and the room grew silent, I stood up and started my chores. Mrs. Fanpi told me she had to pick up our lunches and scurried out the second entrance in the back of the class. I nodded, absentmindedly opening the windows. Once the cool Spring air wafted through the windows, I walked to white board and wiped it down. The fresh air whispered the season's secrets and I listened as I erased the diagram of a poorly drawn frog. The frog looked like a foreign country. I loved Mrs. Fanpi's drawings.

Mrs. Margie Fanpi, though gentle spoken and kind hearted, was a very untidy and scatterbrained woman. Every night she created a new lesson and every day she lost those lessons on her coffee table or in her car. I knew personally because she was also my piano instructor and only friend. Divorced for a decade, she dedicated her life to her career, her three cats, our piano lessons, and me. The daughter she never had. So it was my job to help the middle aged woman. I made copies of her lessons for her (obviously no one knows), cleaned up her classroom during our lunchbreak, watched over her cats while she was on her parade of desperate dates, and provided something we both so desperately needed. Companionship.

"Excuse me, is Mrs. Fanpi here?" I jumped back from the board, startled. Turning around, I found a very short girl with large doe-like eyes staring up at me. She looked like a middle school girl with an oversized gray sweater that reached past her fingers and the smallest Academy issued skirt I'd ever seen. She just was so skinny. I don't remember seeing her around. She definitely wasn't an upperclassman. Her uniform was too perfectly put on. The amber necktie was straight and tucked beneath the sweater. Her black skirt, in proportion to her body size, was obviously ironed and the proper length for dress code. Even her waist long blonde hair was straight and perfectly kept. No accessories. No makeup or wild hair to make herself stand out. Her face had freckles and innocence written all over it.

"Uh, she just stepped out. She'll be back in like ten minutes, if you want to wait. Or I can take a message." I felt like an awkward giant compared to the girl. I mean, five-feet-six- inches isn't really tall, but compared to her, I might as well have been over six feet tall. And a troll. My uniform, though appropriate, was sloppy compared to hers. My tie was loose across my chest and rested above my sweater and black hoodie. Everything else was a cry for help from its owner.

"Oh. Well, I'm the new student. I mean– I'm a new student. Not the new student. See it's me and my sister. I mean, my sister and I. Uh... Hi, I'm Charlie and I'm the worst at talking." Her face was beet red. She had such a defeated look I couldn't help but instantly like her. "Can I start over again? My name is Charlie, short for Charlotte. My sister Cade, short for Cadence, just moved here. She's a sophmore so she's not here. You are?"

"Hi, I'm Aika. It means love song in Japanese. And before you ask, yes I'm Japanese. Well, half, on my dad's side. Nice to meet you. Mrs. Fanpi will be here in a few minutes, you might as well wait." I pointed to the empty seat beside mine. Charlie thanked me and walked to our seats at the back of the class. I organized Mrs. Fanpi's desk while asking Charlie the obvious questions like where she came from and why she moved to Lilystone. She said her family moved from Washington because of her mother's business. She talked about her home state with such tenderness. Her pillow-soft voice broke every so often. If it wasn't for the fact that she was a stranger, I would have hugged her.

At that moment Mrs. Fanpi rushed into the room, take-out bags swinging in each arm. Her rounded form bounced with each hurried step. Her glasses sat crookedly on her nose. Even her wig was off kilter. She dumped the bags onto the desk and slumped immediately onto her swivel chair. We watched in silence as Mrs. Fanpi took in large gulps of air, waiting for her to notice the newest addition to the class. After several minutes Mrs. Fanpi finally looked up. A bright smile burst.