Shearwater

Chapter 6

The shrill beep of my alarm woke me, and I started getting ready for school on autopilot. It wasn't until I saw the blood on my knee that I remembered my midnight adventure. So it had been real. But maybe parts of it had been a dream. I couldn't have really seen a boy out there. And anyway, so what if I had? I didn't have time to think about it right now. I took a shower and then combed the tangles out of my hair. I thought about putting on some makeup, but I couldn't remember if there were rules against that. I tried on my fake nerd glasses, which were kind of cool in America but might be really lame here. I hated the fact that I was so worried about my appearance. But it was my first day of school. In the end I decided to go au naturel, hoping that my unnaccentuated plainness would help me disappear.

In the uniform, I could hardly recognize myself. It felt like I was disappearing; like somebody else had taken over my life. I grabbed the red ribbon from my desk and wrapped it around my wrist, tying the ends together in a small bow. With my jacket on, you couldn't see it, but somehow it made me feel stronger.

Jackie and Derry were waiting at the bus stop, which picked us up after a few minutes, and they introduced me to some friends of theirs. Derry was seventeen and in Fifth year. Jackie was my age, but in the transitional year, which is where I should be, but I'd be taking Third year coursework to catch up. While most students stayed in the same classroom, my schedule was erratic.

The only advantage was, even though it was a small school, the gossip lines didn't pass so easily between levels, so nobody knew who I was. I noticed the change in attitude immediately. People smiled at me and were friendly. I'd gotten so used to the sad looks and worried glances I'd forgotten what it was like to be normal. Jackie had dropped me off in the front office to check in and then gone to run some other pre-class errands. I stood awkwardly waiting for the moon-faced lady behind the desk to look up and acknowledge me.

"Hiya, I'm Travis. Are you new this year?" said a voice behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder at a younger boy with sandy red hair and freckles. After I established he was really talking to me, I turned back to him and nodded.

"First day, can you tell?"

"You're American?" he said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"Is it so obvious?" I asked, looking down at my uniform, afraid I'd gotten something wrong. I tugged at the hem of my skirt, the draft on my legs making me feel naked and vulnerable.

"It's the accent that gives it away," he grinned. Just then the woman in the office looked up at me over her spectacles. The plate on her desk said Mrs. Weavers. "Ah, Miss Clark, isn't it?"

I was suddenly grateful for my last name; I'm not sure why but I felt protected by that last bit of anonymity. I realized she was waiting for me to respond so I nodded, a little too eagerly.

"Here's your class schedule, love." She had gray hair and a pouty mouth, that she somehow managed to make look lascivious, as if she had just shared a dirty joke with me.

I reached out and took the schedule. She turned back to her computer and I headed into the hall, but then I heard behind me, "Travis, why don't you show Miss Clark to her classes?" Travis put on a dopey grin, obviously pleased to act as a tour guide. I wasn't sure if I should be flattered or if I just had the fascination of something new and unusual in such a small community.

The high school was small and mostly modern, though Travis told me there were parts of the building that were over one hundred years old, including the small chapel at the back—which was used on special prayer days, but otherwise mostly just for couples to make out in, or "snog" as he called it.