the Stirring || Book 1 of the Amatori Chronicles

Chapter 3

  I hate speeches, I thought to myself after I had plopped myself down in a seat in my history class, especially when two thousand plus eyes are watching you. My fingers quickly pulled a binder out of my backpack and I sat back in my seat as other students filed in with tired looking faces. A few smiled at me and others complimented the speech I made, but most stayed silent, only grumbling to themselves about how much they hated school.

  A soft breeze blew my hair back, and I sat up in surprise as a body moved past me and sat down in the empty seat next to me. Now that I was more focused, I realized that that was the only empty seat in the classroom.

  My friend, Anita, who sat on my right looked over and spotted the person. "Who's he?" She whispered in my ear, her clear blue eyes wide. "He must be new."

  But I recognized him; he was the boy I had met out in the halls—the boy that denied that he had saved me last night. I frowned. Why though? Why didn't he want to admit that he did save me? My aunt would certainly reward him something—maybe with a stray cat from the animal shelter, or a lost abandoned puppy she rescued from the pound. Perhaps she would even give him money.

  "Yeah, it seems like it," I replied distractedly, right as the bell rang for class to start.

  Mr. Plonsky waddled his way down the aisle of the desks and stood at the front of the class, his stomach bulged from beneath his too-small shirt and he eyed us all behind his black square-rimmed glasses.

  "Before I begin class today," He began in his usual raspy voice, "I would like to introduce a new student that will be joining our class."

  At this time, the hooded figure stood from his desk and in only a few steps with his long legs, he was standing next to Mr. Plonsky. The boy pulled off his hood and blew a piece of brown hair out of his eyes. He looked down at his shoes for a moment and then looked over at Mr. Plonsky who nodded and smiled at him.

  "Well, introduce yourself," He said gruffly, pulling up his baggy pants.

  The boy's head looked back at the class; all staring at him with a mixture of curiosity, boredom, and swoon (a few girls were doing googly eyes at him). "Hello," He started awkwardly, and then he cleared his throat and started over, sounding stronger this time. "Hello, my name is Cayden Direwood and I'm from," There was the tiniest pause, "London." The class burst out in conversation and Mr. Plonsky clapped his big meaty hands.

  "Class, please let Mr. Direwood finish."

  The boy—Cayden—waited for the noise to die down before he continued. "My dad came here to get a better job and...I guess I am attending school here for the time being." He sounded so formal, and so intelligent. "I hope I get acquainted with most of you." Then, with a curt nod at the class, he strode back to his seat and sat down.

  "Why won't you admit that you saved me last night?" I asked him through gritted teeth. "Are you embarrassed?"

  Cayden flushed pink and a muscle twitched in his cheek. His eyes snapped over to meet mine, and now that he was close to me, I noticed that there were gold flecks in his eyes that almost seem to glitter in the light. "I told you, I don't know what you're talking about. You must have the wrong person."

  "I don't think there are many people in Portland Oregon that have a British accent Mr. Direwood," I retorted with a snort. "You're a horrible liar."

  "Miss Silverton."

  I snapped to attention, returning to the appearance of a perfect student. By the look on Mr. Plonsky's face, he had not noticed my little conversation with the new boy. "Yes Mr. Plosnky?" I asked sweetly.