Chapter Three

Chapter Three

I had no answer for myself.

Even after the boy was gone, I didn’t move from my spot on the floor. I continued staring at the corner of the wall where his tall form had disappeared, hoping that he’d been mistaken. That he might come back and explain himself or, at the very least, come back. But nothing happened.

Well. Guess that's one person to avoid.

“Move it,” a sharp voice commanded.

I startled as a redhead elbowed past me. “Sorry.”

“Like you didn’t hear me. Called you three times.” She scoffed. “Are you deaf or something?”

“No.” I glared after her defensively. I hadn’t heard her once. As she walked away, I bored my eyes into her back, marking her as the second person I would avoid. Once my anger simmered down I considered what I should do.

Should I go to English? Had I been given the right directions? It wasn’t as if the boy " my mysterious benefactor, whoever he was " had been acting weird the whole time. He was actually pretty nice, before he’d run off at the end. As soon as he found out I wasn't who he thought. Level Two. Level Two of what?

I'd find out what that was.

I turned and headed toward the Science wing, as he'd instructed me. Slowly the old-English style of the school gave way to a more modern, industrial atmosphere. Chemistry labs " crammed with solid wood tables and glass equipment " were situated in a circular cluster, facing each other's doorways. Past this section was another corridor, hidden away.

I could see why the boy had directed me this way; if I'd gone the opposite direction, I would have run into a wall and had to go back. At least his directions were clear. I walked cautiously down the hallway and into a room, about the same time a dozen other students materialized from nowhere. They didn't speak; however, they looked at me as if they knew something about me. It gave me chills on my insides.

Too weird, I thought to myself.

“Hi,” I greeted softly, hoping this would break the tension.

It didn't. None of them answered me. In fact, their faces contorted in anger, as if I'd just insulted them. I paused in shock, and they glided in front of me into the classroom. This wasn't a good start at all. I didn't want to follow them, but found myself with no other choice.

“Everyone inside!” a commanding voice boomed.

I startled at the loudest " possibly only " real sound I'd heard all day. We filed toward the doorway, me in the back, and the students took their seats. I didn't know where to seat myself. I just stood there for a moment, my feet rooted to the floor, as the teacher " a graying, distinguished man wearing glasses and a sweater vest over a white dress shirt " glanced at me.

“Good morning, Natalie.” He smiled. “I'm Mr. Hollum. Come on in. We've been expecting you.”

I was wary of the knowledgeable greeting at first, but I stepped inside. Mr. Hollum directed me to a desk in the middle of the room. When I sat down, I could feel all eyes on me. My stomach churned sickeningly at the unwanted attention, and I was glad I hadn't had time to eat breakfast.

“Settle down, everyone…” The teacher was saying.

Settle down? Who was he talking to? I wondered. The whole room was dead silent.

“This is Natalie Morrison, as some of you may know. She’s a new student here. Please make her feel welcome.” Then he turned to me. “We're on the Shakespeare component of our curriculum,” he explained. “We just started As You Like It yesterday and are into the first Act. I understand you studied this play last year?”

I froze. How did he know all this?

“Yes.” I nodded. “Last year.”

“Good. Then maybe you’ll be able to help the rest of the class.” He went to his bookshelf and snagged a worn copy of the play, setting it gently on my desk. “Here is your text. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask.”

I nodded. “I will. Thanks.”

Mr. Hollum smiled and turned to the board to begin his lecture. I let out a breath and opened my book to take his notes. Maybe this wasn't going to be as bad as I thought. Mr. Hollum seemed nice enough, even if he was a little strict about the noise thing. And my head start in Shakespeare, although he’d somehow known and mentioned it to the entire class, was a serious advantage. I was beginning to feel a great inferiority complex in this place; I needed every advantage I could get at this point.

“Before we begin,” the teacher said, “let's look at the review of Act One. Can anyone give me an example of imagery in the central theme?”

Imagery.

My head darted up. I knew the answer.

Fortune and Nature working at odds, I thought very surely to myself. I didn’t want to answer aloud, though; the class already knew that I was ahead of them. They probably didn’t like that very much. Best to let someone else take the lead for now, and then I could start sneaking my answers in later on. That was my plan.

But yet, strangely…the whole room was staring at me now. Mr. Hollum, too. He held his chalk between his fingers like a cigarette and nodded slowly with a smile on his face.

“Very good, Natalie,” he said with approval. “Fortune and Nature working at odds, an extended metaphor. That’s correct.”

What?

Correct? How could that be? I hadn’t raised my hand! Or…had I? It wasn’t what I’d wanted to do, but maybe…maybe I’d changed my mind? Suddenly I couldn’t remember. This was crazy. I mulled the last few seconds over in my head, until I noticed some of my classmates looking at me strangely. I turned away from them in defeat. At least my answer had been correct.

But still…

“Natalie?” Mr. Hollum asked.

I looked up. “Yes, sir?”

“Please try to focus.”

Students snickered around me. My stomach twisted in knots. I widened my eyes, dumbfounded, and quickly lowered them again so that I could continue taking notes. At least Shakespeare made sense right now.