The Childe (16 page)

Ryan’s home was not far from the school. It began to down pour as he left the building, but he didn’t care as he walked to his house. Soaked, he opened the front door and removed his shoes, dropping them to the floor. The hallway was dimly lit by the night light his mother insisted be there. Thankfully no one was home. He needed to be alone. Slowly walking up the stairs, he pulled off his wet shirt and threw it on the banister. Taking off the rest his clothes, he stepped into the shower. The warm water rushing over his body soothed him and he felt his embarrassment subside. With a towel wrapped around his waist he walked into his bedroom and put on a pair of boxers and a plain white t-shirt. He opened the tiny fridge in the corner of his bedroom and pulled out a drink. Guzzling it, he threw the can into the trash and looked out the window at the rain flooding the street. He wondered how Cat would get home without getting soaked. He pictured her being drenched, her wet hair tumbling down her shoulders. His heartbeat picked up as he imagined running his hands through her red hair again, kissing her senseless in the rain. Looking up into the black sky he realized he would have to reign in his emotions.
She obviously doesn’t like me. I’ll just have to accept it.
Deep down inside he knew that it was going to be impossible but he had to try. He wished he had someone to talk to, but he didn’t.
No one would understand anyway,
he told himself.

Running up the stairs, her hair and gown drenched, Cat shivered and rushed to her bathroom to disrobe. The overhang at the school had protected them when they first left the dance, but poor Mr. Stevens, Amanda’s dad, had gotten soaked getting the car. She knew he had been miserable driving home. Matt had an umbrella waiting to escort Cat to her front door. But the wicked wind turned the umbrella inside out drenching them both. Matt ran back to the car yelling something to her, but it was lost in the rain.

Standing in her bathroom toweling herself off, Cat thought about Ryan.
I’ve got to stay away from him. I just have to. I know he’s a nice guy, but I don’t want to cause problems with him and his friends. Maybe he was insincere in what he said tonight. How could he like me? He doesn’t even know me. And why would he single me out? Is he just playing games to make me look like a fool if I give in? Will he just go back after and have a good laugh with his friends about me fawning all over him? He’s not like that.
She heard a voice deep down inside of her say.
No you’re wrong, I have to stay away from him, and that’s that. Great! Here I go arguing with myself again! Perfect!
Turning, dressed in a pair of colorful flannel pajamas, she felt truly warm for the first time since she had left the gym. “I have to get my mind off Ryan,” she said out loud to herself. Spying the journal Mildred gave her at The Purple Door, she grabbed it and stretched out on her bed to read. “This might just do the trick,” she told herself.

Today, I found this journal in the dusty attic we are hiding in. I miss the journal I used to have before we ran. I feel like I was meant to find this so I can express my fears, which I cannot express out loud.

It has been weeks since I have slept in my own bed. That night we ran, I remember vividly. It was the night of my sixteenth birthday, the night of my transition. I came down with a fever, I felt like my blood was boiling. I awoke to the sound of my father frantically throwing clothes into a traveling trunk, his face full of fear, not answering my questions. My mother stood at the front door as we descended the stairs, a bag at her feet. Maisey, our housekeeper had her arms around my mother. I noticed the tears sliding down their cheeks. I asked why they were crying and my father told me to be quiet, to be quiet as a mouse. Reaching my mother I was embraced by the two women that I love so dearly. I felt their bodies shake with sobs even though they didn’t make a sound. My father pulled me away from Maisey and pushed my mother and I through the front door.

A carriage sat outside, the horses impatiently waiting, pawing at the ground as the rain poured down on them. Slivers of lightning lit up the night sky revealing the tears on my father’s face. A quick hug and then I was hustled into the waiting carriage. The bags lay on one side, where the stable boy had placed them. My mother followed behind me and the door was slammed shut as the driver yelled above the storm and we took off.

I hear footsteps below us and muffled voices. My mother pulls me to her and I can feel her shaking, her heart pounding. Joshua has informed us that we have to move quickly so I do not know when I will be able to write again. I feel in finding this journal I have a purpose and a hope that our situation will resolve itself, and we can be a normal family again. I know now, our pursuers are pure evil and that they will stop at nothing to carry out their deadly quest in ending our lives. H.B. September 21, 1848.

Cat’s cell phone rang, startling her. Stretching to reach for it on her nightstand, Cat saw that Julie was calling. “Hey Julie you can’t sleep either, huh? So what did you think of the dance?” Cat set the journal down beside her on her bed, as Julie gave her opinion of the night’s events. Her voice became a droning buzz in Cat’s ear, as her mind was consumed by thoughts of what she just read in the journal.

8

The Tutor

Mr. Crawley walked into his seventh period Algebra class whistling, with a bounce in his step. The students groaned. This behavior meant only one thing, a pop quiz. Mr. Crawley delighted in giving pop quizzes. Not to test if the students actually comprehended his math lessons. Oh no, it was to trick them. He loved seeing them fail.

Cat’s head hit her desk with a thud. “Not another pop quiz! Why couldn’t I have been sick today?” she said under her breath. She hadn’t been doing well in Algebra and knew
creepy
Crawley didn’t like her. He constantly gave her a hard time, calling her the silver spoon girl, lazy, and yes, even stupid for missing questions on topics that the class hadn’t studied yet. When he did teach, it was so confusing that after class students could be heard moaning in the hall that they had not understood what had just transpired. Though she was constantly harassed, she was not alone. He didn’t like anyone and nobody liked him. His hatred did not discriminate. Cat asked her father if he knew him, and he said he did, and that he knew him well. Mr. Crawley had applied to teach at his college but was turned down since he had no positive personal recommendations from his previous places of employment. In fact, Mr. Crawley was a very well educated man, and Sam guessed that’s why Astoria High School had hired him. Cat wasn’t surprised when her father was so honest with her about not liking Mr. Crawley. He was always open with her. He even went so far as to say that Mr. Crawley would be a great teacher if he never opened his mouth, which made her laugh.

Setting his briefcase on his desk, Mr. Crawley reached into it and pulled out a stack of stapled papers the size of a Physician’s Desk Reference. With an evil grin, he began walking past every desk, throwing each student a quiz, purposely missing so the student would have to retrieve it off the floor. Cat watched him get closer to her desk. She thought about all the excuses she could present to get out of the quiz.
I could
f
aint, fake sick and go to the nurse’s office, or fake feminine issues. Oh the options!
She was startled as Mr. Crawley threw the paper in her vicinity, missing her desk completely. Walking to the front of the class, he looked at his watch. “You have 30 minutes to complete the quiz! So stop gawking at me, and get to work!”

Cat sighed, thumbing through the packet of papers.
It all looks Greek to me. I’ve never seen any of these problems before. It just isn’t fair. How can you give a pop quiz on material you haven’t covered? I swear this guy is mental! L
ooking up from her quiz she caught him staring at her.

You’re going down Miss Colvin, yes you are.
Cat was stunned.
How did I hear him say that? He didn’t move his mouth.
Looking around she saw the others looking over their packets but nobody was writing.

“Five minutes remaining, better hurry,” he yelled across the room. Grabbing her pencil Cat began scanning the problems quickly, trying to make sense of them. “Time’s up! Pass your papers forward. No more writing. Too bad if you haven’t finished. Pass them up!” Collecting the quizzes, he returned to his desk, pulling out his favorite red marker. “I’ve decided I’ll grade these now.” Everyone groaned in unison. Cat was used to seeing red all over her paper and she thought today would be no exception. One by one he called each student up to see their grade and not one happy face could be seen returning from his desk. “Catherine Colvin!” His voice sounded louder than it had when he had called the others. Approaching his desk with dread, she saw that she was right. The first page was covered in red, and there was no mistaking the big, circled, fat F at the top. “You’re failing Colvin. After class I’ll make a special trip to the gym, horrible place! Smells! But I must go have a chat with your swim coach. I don’t think she’ll be happy with this. No, I bet Miss Star Athlete won’t be spending much time in the water in the near future,” he uttered mockingly with an evil glint in his eye. “That is all,” he said dismissing her away with his hand. Cat returned to her seat, angry, wanting to slap him upside his oblong head with his stupid quiz. Sadness overtook her as she realized that he was right though, she might not be swimming in the near future.

Seeing her friends gathered by her locker after class, Cat tried to smile. “What’s wrong Cat? You look like the end of the world is nigh,” Amanda asked concerned.

“I failed my math quiz today. I’ll probably be kicked off the swim team now. I hate that jerk!” she yelled, throwing her books in her locker.

“Want me to take him out for you Cat?” Matt asked trying to make her laugh. He hated that Cat was so upset. She was always the positive one in the group. Always taking care of their problems. He couldn’t stand anyone hurting her.

“I’ll kick him once you get him down,” Elle announced fiercely. Everyone turned to look at her, surprised at the vehemence in her voice. “Well I can be angry when I want to be! Besides, I’m tired of being a pushover, and nobody hurts my Cat!” she declared, shaking her fist in the air.

“Maybe it won’t be that bad Cat. Maybe you can work something out. They’ll see you’re making A’s in all your other classes. That’ll show you aren’t slacking off,” Julie piped in.

Cat looked at their faces, thinking how she couldn’t have asked for better friends. “Thanks guys, I needed that. I guess I better go and see what my fate is.” Cat hugged them all and then started down the hall.

“Call us when you get home! We’ll be waiting,” Amanda called down the hallway after her.

“Yeah, don’t forget Cat!” Matt yelled.

“I won’t!” Cat replied turning the corner, heading in the direction of the gym.

Walking past the coach’s office toward her gym locker, Cat saw Mr. Crawley through the window. His hands were planted on Coach Hutchins desk. She hurried past, not wanting him to see her. Sitting on the bench with her head hung low, she knew the coach would be looking for her soon so she decided not to get changed.