Valley of Death

Chapter 3

   "I'll be here at four o'clock to pick you up." Tom's father said as the family car pulls up to the curb. He nudges the shifter and places the car in park.

   "K." Tom snatches the backpack from the floor between his legs, pulls the car handle back and quickly opens the door. He practically leaps out and quickly shuts the car door.  He hurries toward the school hoping no one seen him get out. It's not that he didn't appreciate his father giving him a ride to school. It's just that this was Penbrook Academy, where well off families sent their teens to school and Tom felt he wouldn't fit in.

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   Tom stands by his locker and tugs on the padlock. Slinging the backpack over his shoulder, he walks down the hallway and scans the orientation letter in his hand. He reads the first line of his class list. Honors Algebra, room two-zero-three. Tom checks the room number above the open classroom doors as he passes by. Two-zero-one, two-zero-two, two-zero-three, the door like the others was open so he walks in.

   There are few students in the classroom. The teacher sits at his desk and reads a newspaper. He is an older man, likely in his late sixty's Tom estimates. His head is completely bald. He was very thin, fit though, especially his forearm's, Tom could make out the definition of the muscles.

   The teacher looks up from his paper. "Hello. My name is Mr. Cheeks. I'll be your teacher for algebra this year. Have a seat wherever you like."

   Tom looks around. A male student sat near the door and there was a couple of chatty girls towards the back of the room. He picks a desk near the window. Tom thought to himself, if I get bored at least I can daydream about things outside. He sits down and places his bag on the floor next to him.

   While watching the students enter he removes a textbook from his bag. A kid with headphones on came in. The teacher told him to put them away and take a seat. The teen shoves them into his bag and looks around the room. It seems like he was trying to decide which boy would be better to talk to, thought Tom. The boy walks toward him and plops down in the chair in front.

"Hey. I'm Rob."

"Tom."

Robert took his algebra book from his bag. "I haven't seen you around town."

"We live down route nine out by the old quarry."

   The sound of her dress heels clicking against the hardwood floor drew Tom's attention. She had pretty little straps around her ankles. The blue skirt pleats sway back and forth complementing the movement of her round thick hips. His eyes were drawn upwards by the black buttons of the white blouse towards an ample shapely bosom. Her breasts push against the tight blouse and the last few buttons were undone. He could see the top of the pale ivory skin of her cleavage. Between a gold heart shape locket on shiny little chains.

   The snap of Robert's fingers in front of Tom's face brought him out of bliss. "Dude I asked if you like heavy metal?"

Tom turns to Robert. "Uh, yea, sure."

"Good, for a second I thought you might be one of those weird kids."

"Hi." Tom turns to the sound of the voice. It has a sappy southern sweetness.

"Hey." Rob replies.

Tom could not get out the words to reply.

"I'm Gwen." He watches her pink luscious lips form the words. She has wavy short strawberry locks of hair that fell around her eyes. Her eyes. Light blueish green. Tom gazes into them.