“Me too!” I was happy to have two classes alone with her. Like before, I took Havens hand in mine as we stood up to leave English. And like before, she tried to pull away. I held tighter until she gave up and let her hand relax in mine, it was so warm. That last thought didn’t sound like me at all. What the hell was happening? The halls were pretty crowded so we hurried to the gym. Coach Turner stood by her office door, her long blonde hair in its usual braid. She was in her early twenties. I winked at her when she looked at me and she smiled, but it turned to a frown when she saw my hand still around Havens. I looked over at her; she was staring at me with an amused expression on her face.
“What?” I asked, faking mock innocence. I flashed a smile.
“Really Ryan? A teacher?” She looked at me in disbelief.
“Maybe… I was failing and I needed a better grade.” She shook her head and I laughed. Coach Turner blew her whistle and ordered us to get into pairs. That was easy; I was already holding Havens hand. The school prom was in three weeks, so Coach Turner had thought it would be a good idea to teach us ballroom dancing, a decision she looked like she regretted as I put my arms around havens slender waist. We had to waltz, and Haven surprised me by being almost as good as I was.
“You know how to dance?” I asked her; still a little surprised ah she turned gracefully back into my arms.
“Yeah, my parents put me through classes when I was little, it was necessary with all the stupid charity events I was forced to attend with them.” I spun her again.
“How do you know how to dance?” She asked me.
“I’ve had lots of time to practice.” I told her and her face turned to shock as she realized what I was saying.
“Oh, right. Um…how long would that be?” She asked, and I looked around to make sure there was no one in hearing distance.
“I’ve been…immortal a lot longer than Danny and Aaron, I was turned in 1862 when I was seventeen years old. I had gone to fight with the confederates in the civil war, and like all southern gentlemen, I was taught to dance at a very young age.”
“Southern gentlemen?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and staring pointedly at Coach Turner.
“Things change.” I said, my lips forming a tight line.
“I can see that.” She said. I opened my mouth to reply but she continued before any words could come out. “So how were you bitten?”
“I had been fighting in Tennessee- the battle of Stones River, when I was shot by a union soldier. I remember lying on the ground, my stomach bleeding, when a soldier, I don’t remember if he was union of confederate, kneeled beside me and bit my neck. I could feel it spreading through me and I slowly bled to death. When I woke up I was faster and stronger, and I couldn’t die.” I finished my story and looked up to see Havens reaction.
“Wow.” She looked surprised. “You’ve been through a lot.” She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me. I hugged her back, pressing my face to her hair. It smelled like strawberries and I breathed the scent in, not knowing when I would get another chance like this. The bell rang and I sighed, not wanting to let her go. We broke apart, but I kept her hand in mine.
“Art with Ford.” She said before I could ask her what her next class was. I smiled again. Another class together, although Danny had art with us. We walked onto the studio early and sat at one of the paint-stained tables that was scattered around the huge room, which was almost as big as the gym. Danny was already sitting at the table, drawing in a sketchbook even though we would be painting today. I looked over to see what he was drawing. Black roses framed the page, surrounding a poem. Freaky little emo kid. Haven and I took the two chairs opposite Danny and he smiled at us before closing his book.
Mr. Knox was in his late twenties and tall, with short blonde hair and thick black-rimmed glasses. He looked like he should be sipping a latte and working on his laptop in some starbucks, not trying to teach highschoolers the meaning of art. When he passed our table, he introduced himself to Haven, and handed us our half-completed paintings. The assignment was to make a reproduction of a famous painting. Danny had chosen “Starry Night” by Van Gogh. His project looked great, like all his artwork does, but my painting of seven dogs playing poker by C.M. Coolidge looked as if a first-grader had painted it. Knox excused Haven from the assignment, she wouldn’t have enough time.
“Wow Ryan, I didn’t know you could paint so well,” Haven laughed when she saw my horrid painting.
“Oh, I try.” I took my paintbrush, dipped it in the bottle of red paint and splattered it on Haven, getting it all over her shirt and hair. When I saw her sitting there, looking stunned, and covered in red paint, I felt my fangs extend. I looked away from Haven until I calmed down. When I looked back over at her still surprised look, a new longing engulfed me…
I didn’t get to finish my train of thought; Haven took the full bottle of blue paint and dumped it on me, soaking my shirt, jeans and shoes in midnight blue. I would have been angry but Danny’s hysterical laughing made me crack up too. Haven joined in also, but Mr. Knox didn’t find it as funny.
“Detention with me after school today, both of you.” He glared at both me and Haven, and I made my laugh into a cough. “Go get cleaned up.”
Haven and I joked about the look on Knox’s face on the way back to the dorms. Our dorm was empty, of course, as Danny and Aaron were still in class.
“Umm, I’ll let you take a shower first.” I said and she nodded, walking into the bathroom. I took off the blue-stained shirt and put it in the washer. I didn’t turn it on because Haven would probably want her cloths washed too. I could hear the water running.
“Haven do you want me to wash…” I said as I opened the door and then immediately shut it. Haven hadn’t been in the shower like I thought instead she had been standing outside of it, waiting for the water to heat.
“Ryan!” she yelled loud enough for me to hear over the water and through the thick wooden door.
“Crap. Haven I swear I didn’t mean to! Are you going to kill me?” I asked faking concern. She wouldn’t stand a chance against me, although I would love to see her try…
She didn’t come out immediately though, so I went and laid down on my bed, arms folded beneath my shoulders and closed my eyes. I must have been tired, because I woke up startled as the pillow collided with my head.
“That didn’t hurt.” I yawned. And Haven swung again, aiming for my head a second time. I didn’t feel anything then either and I shook my head. She sighed and aimed…lower.
“Ow! Okay that one hurt, you’re a cheater.” She started to stick her tongue out at me but I had her pinned against the wall in less than a second.
“Say you’re sorry.” I demanded knowing she was going to be stubborn.
“Make me.” I laughed and started to tickle her until she was pretty much crying.
“Fine, I’m sorry.” She sighed in defeat and I stopped tickling her.
“I’m sorry I walked in on you.” I said, not really meaning it.
“I forgive you.” She smiled and I smiled back.
We had took longer than we were supposed to, so we not only missed lunch, but we were also late for calculus and got yelled at by Mrs. Potter, a short, stern woman who seemed to wattle more than walk. I saw Danny laughing from the corner and flipped him off behind my back so Potter wouldn’t see.
German went by fast, and I was surprised to learn that Haven was almost as fluent as me, I had been studying it for the past ten years.
History was the last class of the day, a class that I had alone with Haven and after the lecture on the civil war (haha), I tried to not act smug about the fact that I had all of my classes with Haven and Aaron had none. My happiness was lessened by the pile of homework Mr. Hendricks had assigned. It’s not that it would be hard, just a waste of time.
