Beyond the Graveyard

Beyond the Graveyard-Chapter One: The Boy

Beyond the Graveyard.

Chapter One: The boy

In my personal experiences of the first day back at school after the inevitable end of holidays, it's always the best and worst day of the school year. A total catch-22 .

It's the best because you get to see all the familiar faces, (or least the ones you didn't see over the holidays) you catch up on all the gossip-and even dish out your own. You show off your new tan or the hot designer sling-backs that were a total steal. But it's the worst because-well hell-it is school after all!

Your body clock is totally out of whack from all the late nights and sleep-ins. Your teachers are clearly not back in school mode and are (for the most part) either: tired and grumpy, or, excited to tell you all about the singles cruise they went on, and how much fun they had-and oh goody! They've brought in happy snaps for the whole class to pass around. (As if we needed to see Mr. Malvick in his bright yellow Speedo's. Yuck.

My first day started off really great...it's just a pity it didn't end on the same note.

First period on the first day sucks. And I will not let anyone tell me otherwise.

I mean what in the world was going through Miss Zarla's head when she decided it was okay to give us English homework on the first day back. And within the first period to make things just that much worse!

All I had to say was thank God that class was over. Now I could move onto bigger and better things; namely science class. But before you go judging and thinking I'm some kind of weird science geek, let me explain in two very simple-extremely beautiful-words: Paul Jenstien. Yep, I was actually looking forward to science class...and all because of a boy.

Don't get me wrong though, I'm not one of those girls who goes around seducing every guy she meets. I'm also not one of those weirdo stalker girls who falls in love with a guy before he's even said five words to her. Paul and I are friends and have been for a long time now. It also appears that that's all we'll ever be. (Sigh.)

As I walked into class, slamming the door behind me, I looked right to my lab table. There it was as usual, right at the back where we like it, with my lab partner sitting beside my vacant chair, a smile lighting up his face and making me instantly blush like a total dork. I walked down the isle, smiling and saying hi to everyone and-finally-making it to my chair. I pushed my bag off my shoulder and dropped it on the floor by my feet before taking my seat.

Paul swivelled around in his chair to face me. "Hey Melina," He smiled. I thought my heart might just leap out of my chest at that moment. "Hi Paul," I replied sweetly. "How were the rest of your holidays?"

"Yeah, they weren't so bad. All I did was eat, play video games and kick it with Bobby. What about you? Get up to anything interesting in my absence?" He smiled. "No, not really. I went swimming up at my grandparents' lake house a lot but that's about it. Oh, Sam and I finally gave Mishy that make over we promised her, it was hilarious. I have pictures, I'll show you later."

"Cool," He laughed.

"So did you end up seeing that new Gerard Butler movie that you were talking non-stop about? You know, the one that was meant to be sooo awesome that, just hearing you talk about it nearly made my ears bleed?" I asked with a sly smile. "Actually I did," He replied. "And just for that comment I'm going to have to give you an in-depth review at lunch."

"Oh, no! This is the price I pay for having witty humour? Where is the sense?" I said, while pretending to faint. Paul just laughed and shook his head at my dramatics.

"Alright Miss Rogers that's enough, save that kind of thing for drama class." Mr. Beaties said crossly.

Paul looked at me and we both burst into fits laughter, but we soon stopped when we saw the look on old Mr. Beaties' wrinkled face. The rest of science class passed in a boring blur and Paul and I didn't get another chance to talk. We did, however, manage to steal looks at each other out of the corner of our eyes. And at one point, when we happened to look at each other in the same instance, we both turned away smiling.

When the bell finally rang signalling the end of class Paul and I gathered our books and quickly stole out of the room before Mr. Beaties could give us one of his infamous lectures.

"So I'll see you at lunch? Usual table?" I asked Paul, while turning to face him. I don't know why I was feeling so uncertain. It just seemed as though this was the last time I would see him. Which was crazy of me to think because-apart from the fact that we have another two years of high school together-we're constantly hanging out.

"Yeah see you at lunch." He replied, smiling and turning away from me, almost like he could hear what I was thinking.

History. My last period before lunch, thank God! Not that I really mind history, I'm actually quite good at it. It's just I can't wait to get to lunch so I can finally speak properly with Paul. Gosh, from the way I'm acting you'd think I hadn't seen him in year; when in reality it's been just five short days. But to me those five days could not have passed soon enough.

Before I even realise a whole 50 minutes has gone past and the bell is ringing-it seems like music to my ears. I jump up, stuffing my books in my bag as I rush towards the door.

"Just one moment, Melina," Mrs. Sanders says. She waits until every last student has evacuated the classroom. As they pass by some give me looks as if to say: "Better you than me." Others look at me with pity.

Mrs. Sander-having decided the coast is clear-turns to me and says, "Melina, I don't really know what was up with you today but your head just wasn't in it girlie." I really like Mrs. S, she keeps it real and always tells you how it is and so I try to do the same with her, but there is no way on heaven or earth I'm about to tell her I didn't pay attention to a word she said throughout class because I couldn't wait to get out of there so I could see Paul Jenstien. So instead I look down at my shoes and mumble an apology. When I hear here sigh I know that just isn't going to cut it. Looking back up I meet her gaze and say, "I really am sorry Mrs. Sanders. It's just, I didn't get much sleep last night, and I'm sure you know how tiring first days are. But I promise to get an early one tonight and be back in top form tomorrow." This seems to satisfy her; she smiles warmly at me, says if I need anything to let her know and then dismisses me. I thank her and then rush out of the door, running full speed down the corridors, determined not to miss any of the usual lunchtime banter.