A Test of Loyalty

Part 6: Ashleigh and Samantha

Ashleigh

Seven o'clock in the freaking morning. Whose idea was it to have a seven in the morning, anyway? Some sadistic government clerk probably.

My eyes felt like sandpaper, and my hair was plastered to my neck with sweat. Mom and Jeff had argued half the night, and now they were both sleeping in, while I had to get up for school. I was tempted to say to hell with it and go back to sleep. But welfare was never going to pay enough to get away from here, so I had to find a job. And unless I wanted to say "you want fries with that?" for the rest of my life, that meant graduating.

I'd hoped when I heard the argument that mom might throw Jeff out, but no such luck. I'd heard him come in again at about five, so I was extra careful to be quiet.

As usual, there was no real food in the fridge. I managed a piece of toast and peanut butter, and decided to look for some cash to buy lunch at school. Mom had left her purse out, but Jeff had beaten me to it. The wallet was totally empty.

I wondered if Miss Priss upstairs had any money.

I grabbed a couple of cigarettes out of mom's jacket and headed upstairs.

 

Samantha

The Mary, Queen of Heaven High School stood before me. My imagination had painted a Victorian brick building with white pillars and marble floors. Reality was somewhat less impressive. Square cement block, windows that don't open, paved yard, no fields, no trees, and no benches. It looked as ugly and unfriendly as any building I'd ever seen. Ashleigh just headed on in like it was normal to enter such a dead and hopeless looking place.

A few of her usual crowd were hanging out on the steps, smoking. A weary, beaten-down looking teacher watched but didn't say anything.

I waved half-heartedly at Irene, and she waved back. The others in her group just peered at me suspiciously, but I was too cranky to give a shit.

The interior of the school failed to live up to the promise of the exterior, and that's saying something. I followed the signs to the office and dug through my backpack for my transfer papers.

I needn't have bothered. A bored looking secretary just dropped them into her inbox and asked what grade I was in. Then she typed my name into her computer and it spat out two forms; a class schedule and a book list. She dug out a pamphlet entitled This is Your School, Too and handed it to me with the other papers.

"If you want to add or drop classes, you have to do it by Friday. Missed classes count against your record, so make up your mind fast." Then she went back to what she'd been doing. Just like that, I was registered and dismissed.

Out in the hall, I glanced at my schedule. Holy crap! I was registered for every grade twelve class they had. Four of them this period alone! I glanced further down the page; I had at least two classes every period, and no lunch breaks. And the classes I missed would count? I sat down on the steps to look the schedule over carefully; I had to decide right away what I wanted to take.

It was better than I'd thought at first glance. Despite my schedule looking like there were a thousand choices, most of them were the same four classes, just at different times. Remedial Math, academic math and advanced math were each listed three times a week. I assumed that you were supposed to take it three times a week, so I crossed out all of the remedial and advanced ones. That was a start, anyway. The same was true of English, so I crossed out everything but the advanced classes. Same for French. It was starting to look better.

Then my papers went flying as someone crashed into me from behind. I was nearly flung off the step from the force.

"Forgive me; I didn't see you crouching there." The voice was familiar, and I hoped I was wrong. But it was Faraj, the gorgeous guy from the second floor. He stared at me for a moment before recognizing me. I probably looked just the same, blushing, embarrassed, and slack jawed.

Then he just sighed, like I was some kind of tribulation he was forced to endure. Not the most flattering feeling.

"Do you get in my way on purpose?"

"No, it's just a coincidence. Maybe you're in my way; you just think I'm in yours." Did that even make sense? I hated trying to sound smart and witty, it was too much pressure.

"Do you mind moving? I have a class to get to."

"Oh, I'm sorry." I stammered. I tried hard to pull myself together, I could be cool, I could be sophisticated, I was from Rockcliffe.

"So, you're on the second floor of my building. My name's Sam." I sounded like an idiot.

He looked down his elegant nose at me. "A decent woman doesn't talk to men she doesn't know." He looked me over and sounded kind of sad, like he hated pointing this out, "Only a whore flirts."

Well! He might be cute, but that was just plain rude. I reined my temper in sharply, it wouldn't do to be caught fighting in the halls on my first day.

"A decent man understands the difference between being friendly to his neighbours, and acting like a whore." He blinked at me a couple of times; you could almost see him switching tracks.

But I was too insulted to care about his sudden epiphany. I stalked off; head high in what I hoped was a dignified and suitably sexy but ladylike manner.

I forgot all my papers. Shit, I'd have to go back later and hope they were still there. I stalked around the corner, and then turned around to spy on him. As soon as he left, I'd run back for those blasted transfer papers. There was just no way I was turning around where he could see me, not after that exit.