A connection to the past

Chapter 2

After kissing my mom on the cheek and thanking her for driving me to school, I stepped out of the car. I had to walk to the school yard, which was on the other side of the street. Because the crosswalk was far away, it took me a while to get there. When I eventually arrived to school, it was too late. Class had already started. As I ran down the halls I realized how wise I had been to study the school's blueprint. Now I knew exactly where I was going. I don't know how people survive without always being prepared. I got to my class, took a deep breath, then knocked on the door, entering quietly.

It didn't matter how quiet I had been. Every pair of eyes in the room was on me, except the teacher. She was sitting at her desk, with her back to me. All she said was "Very nice of you to join us, miss Holloway. Have a seat next to miss Trotter." Then she began lecturing us, as in me, about being late to class. It was a bit boring because I had heard it all before. Although I was a very organised and prepared person, I was, not rarely, late to class. Yes, as you guessed, it is because of my... special situation. It all started when I was a baby, and it never stopped. You think that by now I would have gotten used to it but, sadly, I didn't. Anyway, as the teacher, Mrs. Moore, talked, I found that, although she was very strict, she was very good at her job. As she began teaching us physics, she made me like it even more than I already did. When she wasn't looking, the girl next to me nudged me to get my attention and said: "Haven't seen you around here before. You new?" she was a cute blonde, with bright green eyes. Her hair barely reached her shoulders and she was obviously shorter than me. The girl sitting behind me tapped her on the shoulder. She had dark skin and almost black eyes. Her hair was also very dark, almost as long as mine, but she wore it natural, as in she didn't braid it or do anything to it either than brush it in the morning. I could tell. She told the blonde one with a more superior air: "You should say 'Are you new' not 'You new'. You're made out to be an educated American. Act like it." The blonde frowned, but then smirked and gave her a not so nice answer: "I'm quoting you right now: You should blah blah blah... That means that I should, not that I will. Had you said 'You must' maybe it would've been a different story." She said, emphasising the word 'should' every time she said it. With every word she said her smile was getting bigger and the other girl's once superior look was becoming more and more annoyed. "No smiling in my class miss Trotter." The teacher hadn't even raised her eyes from the black board. She kept writing, her back to us. For the second time that day, I wondered if Mrs. Moore had eyes in the back of her head. We stood quiet the rest of class, which, for me, passed surprisingly fast. But, looking at Blondie next to me, I realized that we didn't all share a love of physics.

When the bell rang, she asked me again: "So, are you knew?" she emphasised the word 'are' and snuck a dirty look at the other girl, who ignored her. I smiled and answered her, having realized that although they were fighting, those two were most probably best friends: "Yeah, I'm new. What are your names? You're friends right?" Blondie was dumbfounded. "How did you know? We fight so much that most people here think we hate each other. You haven't even met us for an hour and you know we're bffs." I smiled. "I sort of have a way with reading people." She smiled back, bowed and said: "We are maiden Sally Trotter and maiden Sasha Bennet." She made her friend bow too and continued with the same weird and funny accent. "What, my dear maiden Holloway, is your first name?" Making the decision to play her silly game, I smiled, bowed and answered in my ancient-like accent: "My dearest maidens I come from far away, from a place in another realm. There, in that land, they give us names, for our purpose in life. That's why my name is Maeve, but the meaning you shall research yourself. That's why you have smartphones and internet these days." She laughed and said "I so like you!" she pointed to Sasha and continued "She never plays my games!"

As we walked down the hallway to our next class I listened to Sally and Sasha talking about what had happened over the summer, who broke up with whom, and so on... Of course I didn't know who they were talking about, but they seemed to be very well informed and very proud of that. I didn't want to upset them. Finally realising what they were doing, Sasha stopped talking about a Jennifer and Marty and told me: "Maeve, want to know about the boys in this high school?" She waited for me to answer, but when I didn't, she said "Who am I kidding? Of course you do." She gave me a wink and continued "Here's what you need to know: most of the boys in this school who aren't geeks and nerds are okay. Obviously. You can find playboys here and there, but there aren't that many. Also, although most of the boys are okay, cute, or even sometimes, hot, the hottest boys in school are in the A group." Before I could ask anything, Sally continued her friend's idea: "The A group is like a football team, except no one plays football. It's like a basketball team, except no one plays basketball. Also, for the girls, it's like a cheerleading team, except-" I interrupted her: "Except no one cheers. I get it. But what's your point?" She started opening her mouth but Sasha interrupted. "No one knows how the A group started, but there are rumours. I personally think it was the idea of a guy, a jock probably, whose name probably started with an A, because you know they're not so bright. (She rolls her eyes.) He most probably got all his popular friends in one group and called it A. That's my theory. Also, some people call the group A12, because there are only 12 members in the group, 6 boys and 6 girls. No one knows how they get chosen to be in the A group but, at the beginning of every school year, 1-4 girls and boys are chosen from the students. That's because of the ones who graduated and left high school." There was silence for a few seconds, but then I asked: "Okay... I have so many questions. Lemme think... Ok so I'll start with the first: If there are only 6 really hot guys in school why tell me about it? I mean don't they have girlfriends? Like, from the A group?" This time Sally had time to answer, so she did. "That's simple. They don't. Most of them are playboys and charmers. They mostly do one night stands and then don't speak again with the girl. So are the girls, mostly. I think only one of them has a boyfriend." She said, thoughtful. Before I could ask another question, the bell rang, meaning I had to go to class. Unfortunately, none of those two were in my next class. So I said goodbye and headed to math class.

I entered the classroom and sat down at a free desk. Then a guy came to me and looked at me with a piercing gaze. I knew that gaze. Where did I know it from? "This is my desk." He said. I stared at him for a bit longer than I should've, while asking myself how it could be his desk since it was the first day of school. Not actually wanting to fight about it, I sat up, muttered an "Okay" and moved to the desk on his left (this class had single desks). I was excited about meeting the math teacher. And I wasn't going to let rude boy on my right spoil that mood. When Mr. Rivera entered the room I immediately knew he would be my favourite teacher. He started to write equations on the blackboard and I solved every one rapidly, finishing them one minute after them being written. He told us to solve them and, when I didn't start writing, he looked at me with and angry expression. I only smiled. A tiny smile but present, which only seemed to bother him more. I know how I must have looked, but I didn't care. "Why aren't you writing miss-" he flipped through his notebook with a not so pleased expression "Holloway." he finished his sentence. My smile got a bit bigger. I was aware that by now the whole class was watching me. Even rude boy on my right. "I finished, sir." His expression changed from angry to intrigued. "Really..." As he looked on my notebook his expression changed. But he wasn't going to smile even though I could see he wanted to. He gave me an A after I solved ten other harder equations. Time passed so fast, I felt like only ten minutes had gone by when the bell rang. I was about to leave, but then rude boy came to my desk and sat on it. But before he could say anything, I did. "So what, are you going to tell me that this is your desk too?" That made him laugh. He then smirked and said: "So, Newbie, welcome to this high school. Do you have a name? They call me-" That's the moment I realized why his gaze had been so familiar. He looked exactly like Tommy. That was also the moment when I felt myself slipping away from consciousness, back to Sloan. It was happening again.