Once Defiant

Chapter 2

In English II, the teacher called our names slowly and quietly. Her name was Miss Whyte, and she was a short, plump old woman who smelled deeply of old-lady perfume. But that was nothing compared to her classroom. She didn't use the lights, and had actually had the fluorescent lights taken out of the room, replaced with small, candle-holding chandeliers. She claimed that natural lighting helped students learn. Her room was draped in dark red and golden curtains, blocking all sight to the outside world. We didn't even have desks. We had cushions and ground-level chinese tables.

"Gamier, Ray."

"Here."

"Halland, Yallandia."

"It's Landia," said a girl with electric blue hair. She looked cool. I think I found my friend for this year.

"Yes, indeed it is, Miss Yallandia," said Miss Whyte, lawn-mowering over Landia's comment.

"Harris, Blake."

I raised my hand. Everyone started turning in their seats, searching for Harris, Blake until they all saw me. "Harris, Blake?"

Irritated, I said, "Here," in my bell-like voice. All the guys in the class turned around and stared, probably registering my vampyric beauty.

"Yes, indeed, Mister Blake. From now on, answer me the first time I ask."

I stood up, knocking down the bottle of water that was on my table. "I'm a girl. I have long hair, I don't have a penis, and I don't make jokes about farts like an idiot," I yelled across the room, my body heating up. A couple of people laugh, others gawked. I noticed that when the spilled water touched my boot, the puddle instantly evaporated, and I tried to regain control of my energy.

Miss Whyte looked up from her clipboard for the first time since this class has begun.

"Yes, indeed. You are a female. My mistake, but be aware that if you use that language again in my class, I'll see to it that you are expelled from this school. Are we at a standstill, or do you wish to continue, Miss Blake?"

"We're at a standstill," I say, allowing as much venom as I can into my voice. She nods and goes back to checking off names. Landia, who was sitting right beside me, nudged me and said, "Good job. I love your hair by the way. I'm Landia."

"Masonry, Arnold."

"Thanks, I'm Blake," I say. I barely take notice that I have bright pink hair anymore, with my bangs the color of a rainbow. I decided that for this teenage life, I'd be a rebel. "I love yours, too," I say, acknowledging her electric blue hair.

"Pinacle, Annabeth."

"Don't worry about Whyte. She'll forget about that tomorrow," Landia smirks. "They say she's as old as Martin Luthor King, Junior's grandfather. In fact, or more like, rumored opinion, the only reason she was named Whyte was because she was trying to put a stop to racism and descrimination." We share a small laugh, and even though I know it's rude, I'm already hating this woman more and more.

"Seismic, Jordan."

"Do you wanna sit with us at lunch? Well, right now, it's just me, but I have more friends. I'd love for you to meet them," she says with hope. I debate, and say, "I'd love to."

"Upton, Zion."

"Good. We all have third-shift lunch. And you're taking band too! What instrument do you play?"

"I play every instrument besides low-brass."

"Zenith, Miotti."

"Awesome! I play flute. We have English II, French, lunch, and Band together... I'll see you in French."

"Miss Yallandia, is there something you and Miss Blake want to share with this class?" Miss Whyte said, still not looking up from her clipboard.

"No, ma'am," Landia replied. "Other than the fact that you're a bitch," she added under her breath, only for me to hear. Miss Whyte shuffled by where our tables were while going to her desk, muttered "Juvenile delinquents...," and Landia and I exchanged smiles, holding back a bit of laughter.