Chapter One
"Have you seen the
new guy? We're talking stud material." Tricia sighed as she texted and
walked with her friends down the school hallway. "That body...that
face...those eyes."
"We are aware of
his anatomical structure." Francine sniffed. "I don't think he's all
that great."
"You?" Tricia
put her hand on her chest. "Francine Paulin, are rejecting the most
perfect assemblage of male anatomy in this whole deprived – or is it depraved –
school?"
"What aren't you
telling us?" Jennifer popped the top on her lip-gloss-of-the-month and
coated her lips with Swanky Pink. "Oh God. Ssh. Here he comes." The
subject of their discussion headed in their direction.
Tricia leaned closer to
Jennifer. "The gods did right by this one. He's got to be 6'2" or
more, and his chest looks like it's going to burst right through his
shirt."
Heather looked at her
shoes and whispered, "Never seen eyes that dark before. She glanced out of
the corner of her eye. "They're…so sexy."
Sexually intriguing. Julie stiffened at her thought. What
the…?
Francine rolled her
eyes. "Grotesque. Jeans and a T-shirt, in Westland Prep. I know we don't
wear uniforms, but come on, show some level of civility. And his hair is much
too long." She flicked her silky, long black hair over her shoulders. "Definitely
not up to the standards of Westland Prep."
With everyone deep in
their thoughts, silence fell on the five young women who defined this clique:
Tricia, the bouncy brunette and co-captain of the cheerleading team.
Francine, the
sophisticated member, known to be harshly judgmental and fiercely proud of her
family's wealth.
Blue eyed and blonde,
Jennifer, the school's gossip queen and social committee president.
Petite Heather's long
brown hair covered her shoulders and the sides of her face like a protective
coat. She was the quiet member.
And Julie, the dreamer,
whose chestnut-brown hair sweeps against her shoulders but today was pulled
back off her ivory-skinned face. Her long silken lashes framed her dark brown
eyes.
They'd been friends
since preschool. They dressed to the latest codes, and dated the right boys. To
them, prep school was the period between high school and marriage. A time to
hunt for the perfect date, shop and enjoy life. Prepping for college was the
last thing on their minds.
Tricia broke the
silence. "Jennifer, you know everything about everybody. Start
talking."
Jennifer dropped her
iPhone 4 into her purse. "Well, Addison said that Zoe said that Janai got
it straight from...bell. Gotta go. Got Spanish. Must conjugate another verb.
Adios."
Tricia grabbed
Jennifer's arm. "DREAMS - 3:30. Julie's treat this time."
"Pardon?"
Julie raised her eyebrows.
Tricia, Heather and
Jennifer batted their eyelashes at her.
"All right."
She shook her head. "How can I refuse those angelic faces?"
"Girls, am I
mistaken, or didn't the bell just ring?" The principal, Mr. Morris, stood
beside them with his hands on his hips.
"Going, sir."
Francine waved.
"Going, sir."
Heather scurried off to Drama.
"Gone." Tricia
winked.
While she and Julie
walked to Mrs. Wolmsley's English class, Tricia chatted about the new boy as
dating material. "Wonder what it'll take to meet him? He's so hot. Wonder
if he's got any secrets? And did you see those tats? I so want to know what's
under that T-shirt."
"His chest."
Julie grinned at Tricia.
"Yes, but I bet
it's a chest to die for. And ripped abs. Ooh, I think my toes are
tingling."
"Julie."
She turned at the sound
of her boyfriend. "Hey, Chris." She signalled to Tricia to continue,
as she tucked her arm into her latest boyfriend's.
Tricia glanced back and
smiled then continued to English.
***
As Julie walked to her
desk, she glanced at Tricia perched on the new student's desk. Julie admired
Tricia's nerve. She couldn't charge over and talk to him. She'd be too nervous
and would probably do something horribly embarrassing like burping in the
middle of her sentence. Julie shuddered and slipped onto her desk chair.
With her grey hair
pulled back in a bun, Mrs. Wolmsley entered the classroom.
Giggling all the way to
her seat, Tricia sat behind Julie, who turned to speak to her but stopped.
"Class." The
teacher stood at the front of the room. "Today I'm assigning independent
projects. You may work solo, or with a partner."
She turned, picked up a
piece of chalk and spoke while she wrote. "Due date is this Friday."
She underlined this three times. "You have today's period to begin your
research. Julie Anderson, which do you choose?"
"Solo,
please."
The teacher called off
names from her class list. Most students requested a partner. "Tricia Graham?"
"Partner. And I'd
like it to be the new student, Robert."
He looked up then
shrugged.
As Julie turned to
congratulate her friend on her sexy catch, she was surprised to feel a small
spot, deep inside burning with envy. She blinked, shook her head and switched
her thoughts to Christopher – handsome, wealthy family, football team captain
and all-star quarterback. With luck, they might be this year's Homecoming King
and Queen.
When she'd finished
organising the students, Mrs. Wolmsley handed out the assignments and dismissed
the class. The crowd of students wandered in the direction of the library,
their locker or an exit. Julie pushed open the library door, walked past Mr.
Hartzfeld, the librarian, towards the tables at the back. When she passed Tricia
and Robert, he'd spread out his books to work on the assignment while Tricia
played with her pen and chatted. Julie smiled then settled down to work at an
empty table one row over.
***
"Am I good? Or am I
good?"
Julie glanced at Tricia.
"He asked me to the
dance." She hitched a hip onto the table and leaned closer. "I love
your earrings."
"You mean he spoke?
He didn't just shrug his shoulders?"
Tricia nodded. "You
know, he's got the most adorable pierced ear, killer eyes, and I haven't even
begun to describe his body. I think I'm in lust." Sighing, she returned to
work with Robert.
Julie rolled her eyes
and continued with her research until the bell rang. She picked up her book and
headed for biology.
"Does she always
talk that much?" A deep voice behind her startled her.
She turned, and stared
into Robert's dark eyes. "Uh, yes." Why did her knees feel weak?
"I...I'm surprised you got a word in to ask her to the dance."
"Had to ask her,
just to shut her up." There was a disgruntled edge to his voice. Robert
held the door open for her.
Julie's legs ignored her
command to walk. She regained her composure, entered the room, passed
Francine's desk and went to her seat. She didn't greet her friend. Instead, she
puzzled over what happened. What caused her hesitation? Had he noticed it? Had
anyone else?
"Put your
assignments on my desk." Mr. Parks, the biology teacher, pointed towards
an inbox as he clicked off the student's names as they entered. Attendance
completed, class seated, he looked up from his computer. "Did anyone not
hand one in?"
Robert put up his hand.
"And why not?"
"'Cause I didn't
get it done." He slouched low in his desk at the back of the room,
isolated from the rest of the students. His long legs stretched out into the
aisle.
"You were given a
simple assignment. It should've taken no more than two hours to complete. This
isn't high school. It's college prep. If you cannot keep up—"
"I didn't have
time." Robert sat up, rested his arms on his desktop and glared at his
teacher. "I arrived in this school three days ago, and got handed two
weeks' worth of stuff to get caught up on. Trust me, I get this isn't high
school."
"Two weeks' worth
can't be that much. A few extra hours after school."
"I ain't Westland.
Gotta work to feed myself and put a roof over my head. For the past two nights,
I've been doin' my homework after I get home from work. Been stayin' up to
three in the mornin'. Had about four fu ─ miserable hours of sleep in the past
two nights."
He ran his fingers
through his hair. "Got calc and English done. I'll probably end up stayin'
up 'til three again gettin' bio done." He inhaled and released it.
"Right now I'm tired and pis ─ and I certainly don't feel like puttin' up
with gettin' yelled at for not doin' my work, 'cause that's all I've done!"
Julie looked out the
window. He speaks.
"I'll speak with
you after class. Open your books to chapter three. Plant Systematics." Mr.
Parks snapped open his textbook and searched for the page.
Robert brooded until the
end of day bell sounded. The class stood and shuffled out of the room. Except
Robert.
Francine waited for
Julie. "Imagine, letting him into Westland."
Julie half-nodded. She
was used to her friend's attitude - unless you grew up in Westland, you were
unworthy of attending Westland Prep. She glanced back into the classroom.
Robert was leaning on a desk, arms crossed, glaring at the teacher. Turning in
the direction of her locker, she wondered if there'd be one less student in
biology tomorrow.
***
By 3:45, the five
friends settled into a booth at the restaurant, DREAMS. "Okay, the
waitress is over there. Start talking." Tricia propped her elbows on the
table and rested her chin on her hands.
"What?"
Jennifer batted her eyelids.
"Him. Who is he?
What is he?" babbled Tricia. "Is he sleeping with somebody? Is
somebody sleeping with him? Does he like brunettes named Tricia?"
"All right, all
right. Well Addison said that Zoe─"
"We know that. Zoe
said that Janai said what?" Tricia and Heather shouted.
"His name is
Robert. Kristal said that she heard Maddi tell Ashley...."
The waitress coughed
interrupting her monologue.
"Uh, Diet Cokes all
around." Julie pointed at everyone.
"I've got a date
with him Friday night." Tricia's smile spread across her face.
Francine flicked her
hair over her shoulders. "He and Parks had a disagreement in bio
today."
"Wait a sec."
Jennifer held up her hand. "Tricia gets a date, and Francine watches him
fight with a teacher?"
The conversation paused
while the waitress served their order.
Jennifer checked her
cell phone. "Details please. Tricia goes first then you." She pointed
a pink polished fingernail at Francine.
Tricia signalled the end
of her success story by popping her eyebrows up and down and smiling. Francine
wrinkled her nose and sniffed. "I don't think Trish'll be going on her
date."
Julie nodded while
sipping her Diet Coke.
"Why not?"
Gossip queen Jennifer's senses tingled.
Francine pulled herself
up tall. "He's not one of us. He's Shore."
"Ooh, a bad
boy." Tricia's cheeks flushed.
"Tricia, get your
head back here on planet reality." Francine glared at her. "He's not
worth it. He'll just get you into a car, do you, then dump you. Excuse my
crudeness. Guys like him don't care. Their brains and hearts are in their
pants."
Tricia's eyes glazed
over. "Sounds hot. He seems dangerous. I don't mean in the physical sense.
I mean dangerous in the back of a parked car." She giggled and sipped her
drink.
"I have to go. I've
got class." Julie swallowed the last of her drink.
"Still
dancing?" Jennifer shook her head. "How can anybody do the same thing
for twelve years?"
Julie laughed and waved
goodbye.
***
Julie kept secrets.
She couldn't discuss her
deepest secrets with friends, as they were too concerned with their own lives.
But, she didn't let that stop her from dreaming.
She loved everything
about dance, especially the discipline, both of the mind and the body. Many
nights, she dreamed of performing on grand stages in romantic cities like Paris
and New York. She understood the sweat-filled hours and sacrifices it took to
be a professional dancer.
However, dreams never
concern themselves with reality. They're the fluff that keeps a person's soul
alive. Julie's dream was to dance. It was one of her secrets.
With school and dance
class finished, Julie escaped to her sanctuary – her bedroom. Posters decorated
her walls. Not of teenage heartthrobs, instead, pictures of ballerinas in tutus
and scenes from ballets adorned her room. Centred between two large, bumped-out
windows was a rose and white lace canopy bed, where in her dreams, she danced.
Eventually morning came
and the realities of life returned. But for a while, she listened to the music
of the orchestra, and felt the grip of her partner as he lifted her high above
the stage. In her sleep, Julie smiled.
***
At school, the next day,
the gossip lines hummed about what happened in Mr. Parks' class. The consensus
of the student body was, since Robert was not from the wealth and privilege of
Westland, he should be expelled.
Biology was first
period. The only one late for class was Robert. Two minutes after the bell, he
entered.
"Sleep in?"
The teacher held out his hand.
"I wish."
Robert handed him a bunch of papers.
"Get caught
up?"
"On everythin' but
sleep." Robert made his way to his seat, ignoring the threatening glances
of his classmates. He wasn't worried. He'd put up with worse things than these
Westlanders could throw at him.
Mr. Parks settled the
class, and continued his lecture on Plant Systematics. Seventy-five minutes
later, the class exited. Several male students bumped into Robert. He clenched
his jaw, struggling to keep his temper under control.
"You." An
index finger was pointed into his face.
Robert looked past it at
the unknown student.
The classmate used his
finger to punctuate each word. "You and me. Outside. Now."
"Ya got a
problem?"
"Yea and it's you.
I hear Shore guys are tough. Prove it. Meet me outside."
Robert heaved a
disgusted sigh. "Lead on, Macduff."
"What?"
"It's a line from
Shakespeare. You know, the dead guy we study in English."
The student's brow wrinkled,
he shrugged, motioned to his friends and walked away.
More to himself than
anyone, Robert said, "Guess he don't like Shakespeare." A whiff of
Julie's perfume snagged his attention. He turned and tilted his head in the
direction of his opponent. "What's his problem?"
"Tricia."
Robert rubbed his
forehead. His assumption was right.
"You don't have to
fight him, you know." Julie brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"Sooner or later I
gotta. If I don't settle this now, it'll just get worse. Although, I'd rather
get some sleep." With a resigned sigh, he followed the crowd out of the
building.
Julie wandered along
behind him, puzzled by her action. He was Shore. What did she care about his
kind?
A group of Westland
students collected in the student parking lot, semi circling the challenger.
Many had their cell phones set to record the event. With luck, Stephan's
trouncing of the North Shore punk would be on YouTube by lunchtime.
Robert stood before his
opponent. "Common courtesy demands that we introduce ourselves." He
extended his hand. "Robert Holiday. And you are?"
"Stephan." He
cast his gaze up and down Robert and sneered.
Ok, so not only are ya an idiot for tryin' to take me on, you're a f'in'
jerk too. "So
what's your problem with me?" Robert lowered his unshaken hand.
"You asked Tricia
to the dance."
"Yea, so?"
Robert stood with his weight resting on one hip, and his thumbs hooked into his
pockets.
"She was going with
me." Stephan glared at his opponent.
Robert checked his
distance. "So a guy from Shore jacked your girl. Ooh, that's gotta sting
that Westland pride. But, as they say, may the best man win."
Fists swinging, Stephan
dove at Robert, who ducked the punch. Again, Stephen went at him. Robert
sidestepped this punch, but edged himself too close to Stephan's ring of
supporters. Two football team members grabbed his arms, pinning them behind
him.
Stephan grinned.
"I'll show you who's the best man. North Shore garbage." He swung.
His fist caught Robert on the jaw line. Stephan threw a couple of punches at
Robert's face and stomach before Robert untangled himself from his captors.
The two fighters stood
facing each other, daring the other to move. Stephan arrogantly confident.
Robert wary the crowd was more opposed to him than curious. Stephan swung. Robert
caught the fist and twisted it behind Stephan's back. Stephan dropped to his
knees, letting out a moan as Robert applied pressure to his elbow joint.
"Any of your
friends charge us, and I break your arm." Robert checked if anyone moved
closer. "Now that you're all calmer, we can talk. I can't fight you here.
You'll get your wrist slapped." He pointed at his chest. "I'll get
expelled. Durin' school hours, on school property, I won't fight. After school,
across the street in the park - you and me. If ya don't show...." Robert
exerted more force to the elbow, released it, glanced over at Stephan's
teammates then left.
Julie entered the school
and walked in the direction of her calculus classroom. Robert leaned over a
drinking fountain. He sipped some water, rinsed his mouth then spit it back
into the bowl. The water was tinted red. She stopped next to him. "You're
bleeding."
"Yea, he got in a
good one. Split my lip on my tooth. Guess no kissin' for a bit." He
started to grin, but winced instead.
Julie squeezed her books
against her chest - academic protection. "You had no intentions of
fighting, did you? You were going to talk your way out until his bullheaded
friends joined in."
Robert didn't reply. He
was too lost in the light glistening off her hair, and the soft scent of her
perfume.
Julie hesitated. "I
didn't expect you to do that."
He rubbed his chin. Do what? "Oh, ya expected me to
fight, 'cause I'm Shore?"
"Yes. You people
are always fighting and causing trouble. You're supposed to be tough, macho studs."
"The stud part's
right." He grinned.
A shiver scurried up her
spine. "You know, there are two sides of you."
"As far as I know,
I'm an original."
To keep from giggling,
Julie took a deep breath. "After calculus, can we go somewhere? Have lunch
and talk."
"Why?" That
wasn't what he wanted to say. In reality, he wanted to run down the hall
shouting, "YES!", but he so knew that wouldn't look cool.
"Because I
asked?" Because the words just came
out of my mouth.
"Guess so.
Where?"
He said yes.
"Not here. I don't want to be—"
"Seen with
me?"
"No, that's not
it." She stepped back a pace, relieving the tension his presence caused in
her. "I find you an enigma. I'd like to chat."
"Well, you're
arousin' my curiosity. What do Westland girls, with a body like yours, eat for
lunch? Ya don't look like the cheeseburger and fries type."
"Lunch Box isn't
far. It has a great salad bar." She looked away, knowing her cheeks
flushed bright pink.
"Ya ever been on a
bike?"
Julie shook her head.
"There's only one
in the parkin' lot. Meet ya after class."
Chapter Two
When the end of calculus
bell rang, Julie and Robert exited without a glance in the other's direction.
Julie wanted to keep their lunch date secret, and she hoped Robert understood.
She chewed her lip as she looked around the parking lot. What was she doing
riding off on a motorcycle with a guy from North Shore? What was it about this
man that attracted her so? Was that it? She thought of him as a man, not
another of the immature boys she went to school with?
He stepped beside her
and handed her a black helmet. "Here, ya wear it. I only got one. You're
gonna have to show me the way." He adjusted her chinstrap then steadied
his bike as she climbed on.
She gave him directions
to the restaurant then paused. Not ever having been on a motorcycle before
Julie guessed she had two choices: keep steady by wrapping her arms around him,
but that seemed too forward, or fall off which was stupid.
With a roar, the bike
surged ahead. Julie decided being bold was better than dead. She squeezed his
waist and buried her face into his back.
Please don't let me die. I want to go back to school this afternoon.
Robert glanced at
Julie's arms, gripping tightly around his waist. He chuckled. "Don't
worry. I won't let anythin' happen to ya."
She peeked out twice.
Once at a stoplight and the second time as the vibration of the engine ceased.
The restaurant's sign was a welcome sight.
Lunch Box was an upscale
restaurant with skylights and green plants scattered throughout. "Menus or
salad bar?" A hostess escorted them to a booth.
"Where I eat, the
menu's on the wall." He hunched his shoulders. "A cheeseburger and
fries is fine." He slid into a seat on the opposite side from Julie.
She leaned across the
table. "This is a vegetarian restaurant."
"I don't eat
vegetables. I eat meat. Didn't fight my way to the top of the food chain to eat
vegetables."
"Try a salad. It's
good for you. A burger and fries are so full of fat." She rolled her eyes.
"You can eat and eat until you're full." Sliding out of her seat,
Julie led him to the salad bar and handed him a plate.
Robert examined the
ingredients. "I ain't sure what half of this is."
"Experiment."
He placed a pile of
lettuce, carrots and radishes on his plate.
Julie shook her head.
"That's experimenting?" She dropped a couple of strange looking brown
things beside his radishes.
When they returned to
their booth, their waitress was waiting. "What can I get for drinks?"
"Lemonade,
please." Julie settled into her seat.
Robert put his plate on
the table and sat. Do places like this
even have a liquor licence? "I'll have the same." He stared at
his meal. "If I die eatin' this I'm comin' back to haunt ya."
Julie chuckled.
"Get caught up on all your homework?"
"Gawd, I hope so.
Between school, homework and work, I've got about six hours sleep this past
week." He rubbed his face.
"Did you hear the
rumours about you and Mr. Parks?"
Robert scrunched his
brow as he eyed something hanging off the end of his fork. "What's
this?"
"An oriental
mushroom."
"Ain't that
brave." He pushed the mushrooms aside. "Yea, I supposedly swore at
Parks and threatened him."
She waved her drink at
him. "And you pulled a knife on him."
"I must really be
tired 'cause I don't remember none of that." Taking a bite of a carrot,
Robert looked down at his meal. You've
got the prettiest eyes, like chocolate ice cream. Stop talkin' about bio. I'd
rather talk about you.
Julie scooped up a
forkful of salad. Your eyes. They're so
intense. They don't look at me. They look inside me. "What happened
after school yesterday?"
"I said sorry for
losin' my temper, and he apologised for judgin' me too quickly. When my
assignment wasn't done, he figured I was bein' belligerent or somethin'."
Robert finished his first plate of salad and went back for seconds. "It could
take a person a long time to get full eatin' this stuff." He gulped the
last of his drink. "I think ya called me a name. An enigma."
"You're pretending
to be dumb, but I know you know what the word means." She dipped a slice
of cucumber in dressing. "That's what fascinated me. You suddenly pop up
in class, don't speak for days and then blow up at a teacher. You go out and
play the tough guy on Stephan's challenge and try to negotiate a settlement. I
presumed you'd...."
"Ya presumed
wrong."
"But you're...?"
Robert tossed his fork
onto his plate and slouched low in his seat. "I'm Shore. Therefore, I'm
stupid, uneducated, a tough punk, into drugs and stuff."
Ashamed of herself,
Julie stared down at her half-eaten meal.
"I knew I was in
trouble when I had to register at Westland Prep. There are so many different
kinds of racism." He ran his fingers through his hair. "We're the
same colour and nationality. Religion isn't a factor here, so that leaves
social or economic standin'. Ya live in rich Westland. I'm from North Shore. I
expected you'se guys to hate me. I was hopin' maybe somebody'd get to know me
before they found out what I am."
"Trish tried. She
said you were staring at her in English."
"I wasn't lookin'
at her. I was lookin' at you."
Julie felt a blush rush
to her cheeks.
"Trish is usin' me.
She wants to make Super Jock jealous and pay more attention to her."
"But you're doing
what she wants by fighting Stephan." Julie rested against the back of the
booth.
"I'm gonna scare
Stephan." Robert met her gaze. "What's it to ya?"
"My curiosity's
piqued. I thought I understood people. You've surprised me. There's something
behind those eyes. Some sort of a secret."
"I've got a past. I
ain't proud of it. Didn't wanna cause any trouble. Just wanted to get through
this term and disappear."
Julie swallowed the last
of her lemonade. "I'm really angry with myself. I'm having a difficult
time letting you be you. I want you to fit the stereotype."
"Why?"
"Separate
cheques?" The waitress broke into their conversation.
It was a brief debate,
but Julie put her foot down. "I invited you to lunch. You drove. I pay.
Got it." She looked at the cheque and handed the waitress some bills.
"Keep the change."
"Are all Westland
women so bossy?" He picked up his helmet and led her to the exit.
Julie paused as she
passed him. A musky scent tickled her nose, making her sigh. It made her feel
warm and safe.
He held the door.
"Sorry." She
stepped through.
He followed her.
"What? No snappy comeback to my question?"
Julie crinkled her brow.
"What question?"
Robert chuckled.
"Nothin'. Get on." With a kick, he started the engine and drove out
of the parking lot.
***
On returning to school,
Robert dropped Julie off at the front door and parked his bike. She hurried to
English. It was several minutes before Robert entered. He handed Mrs. Wolmsley
an admit slip and went to his desk.
"Thought you'd been
kicked out." A student in the third row growled in a low voice.
"Huh?"
"You heard
me."
"Sorry to
disappoint."
"What's the chatter
over there?" Mrs. Wolmsley's brow wrinkled as she glanced across the room.
"Whoever this
is." Robert jerked his thumb towards the student. "Was worried I'd
been expelled."
"We were hoping
you'd been kicked out," Derek shouted across the room.
Mrs. Wolmsley glanced at
her student. "Why do you want Robert expelled?"
"'Cause of what he
did in biology yesterday."
The teacher waited for
an explanation.
"I'll tell you what
he did." Derek stood. "A friend of mine said Robert didn't hand in
his assignment. When Mr. Parks questioned why, he blew a fuse. He was yelling
and swearing that he didn't have to do some stupid assignment. When Mr. Parks
tried to reason with him, he swore at the teacher."
Derek dug into his
story. "Then Robert pulled a knife and threatened Mr. Parks with it. Right
there in class. I heard Kristal had to leave. She couldn't deal."
"That'd be one
version." Robert scratched his chin.
"You calling me a
liar?" Derek lunged towards Robert.
With a bored expression
on his face, Robert didn't move.
"Derek, get back in
your seat." The Principal's voice boomed across the room. Two police
officers stood near him.
Robert snorted in
disgust. "I don't believe this."
"Would you come
with me, please?" Although Mr. Morris made it sound like a question,
Robert understood it was an order. He shook his head and crossed the room. An
officer grabbed his arm and escorted him out.
"You know, Mrs.
Wolmsley, Robert's right." Julie controlled her nerves. "Derek's
mistaken. I'm in Mr. Parks' class, and unless I'm suffering from total lack of
recall there were no four-letter words or any hint of a threat or a knife or
anything. Robert's not one of us and no one will give him a chance. He's North
Shore. That's all they need to know." Aware of her classmates' stares,
Julie scooted from the room.
As Julie searched for
Robert's locker, she turned a corner and stumbled to a stop. Robert was
spread-eagled against the wall being frisked by one officer as the other
inspected his belongings.
"Go back to
class." Mr. Morris pointed down the hallway.
"No, sir."
Having never disobeyed a Principal before, she forced her voice to stay calm.
"I can't believe this. I was in bio, nothing happened."
"Julie's
right." The teacher rounded the corner. He directed his statements to both
the police officers and Mr. Morris. "Absolutely nothing happened. Sir,
don't you think I would've called you if he had a knife, or if he'd threatened
me?"
Robert still leaned on
the wall. "Can I move?"
The officer grunted.
Assuming that was a yes, Robert turned to face Julie.
"Don't worry about this. I've been frisked before. At least this time I
wasn't slammed against the wall first."
"He agreed to a
search. To prove there's no knife," said Mr. Morris.
Robert started to speak,
but Julie interrupted him with a flick of her hand. "No I've got to say
this. Do you know what he's gone through? Just because he lost his
temper." Her cheeks flushed as she could feel the heat of her nerves and
indignation rising. She clenched and unclenched her hands, trying to calm
herself. "He's been humiliated twice. At least. One, he was hauled out of
class by police officers and two, forced to agree to a search. All for nothing.
There's no knife, is there?"
She glared at both
officers. "He has rights, and I'd say every one of them's been violated.
Does anyone care? No. And why not? Because he's North Shore. Well, who died and
made us Westlanders God?"
Mr. Parks put a hand on
Julie's arm. "She's right, you know."
Mr. Morris looked at
Robert who shrugged. "I expected it. I didn't wanna come here. I got sent.
This school has the worst reputation for friendliness. If ya ain't Westland,
you're nothin'."
Released from the
search, Robert and Julie walked back to class. With one hand on the door, he
glanced at her and smiled. "Thanks." His eyes sparkled with gratitude.
A couplet from a poem
shot through Julie's mind.
Thine eyes fill me with wanton lust.
Thine arms doth cause me to surrender.
He held the door open
for her. There was a gasp of disbelief as he entered. "Ta da. The innocent
has returned." He snapped his fingers and bounced to his personal beat.
Mrs. Wolmsley placed her
book on the desk. "The bell's about to ring. I want to remind everyone to
read the next two chapters for tomorrow."
Derek stood. "Don't
forget the meeting in the park."
The class exited. As Robert
walked down the hall, several students bumped into him, but he ignored their
feeble attempts to start a fight.
Julie's friends waited
by her locker. "Where were you at lunch?" Heather asked.
"Forget that.
Francine tell her the news," Tricia urged.
"Daddy arranged a
horseback riding party for me for my birthday. At the Murran Estate. Two
o'clock Sunday. So no excuses, Julie, you don't dance on Sundays."
"Isn't it
great?" Jennifer giggled. "Maybe we'll meet Mrs. Murran."
The owner of Murran
Estate and Riding Stables, Mrs. Emily Murran, was a reclusive woman. She rarely
attended social functions, but her generosity was legendary around the city. An
invitation to the Estate would be a step up in their social climb.
Jennifer's fingers flew
over the keys as she texted three friends.
Francine checked her
manicure. "Are we going to watch Stephan trounce that punk?"
Julie shook her head.
Heather and Jennifer grabbed her and pulled her along. They worked their way to
the front of the crowd and stood close to where Stephan and a pack of football
players had clustered.
"You know,
Tricia," Julie turned to face her. "This is all your fault."
"I know. Isn't it
great having two men fight over you?" She shimmied.
Stephan straightened his
shoulders, trying to look menacing. Julie bit her lip as Robert walked towards
the group. He'll get killed. He can't
possibly fight the whole team.
Robert positioned
himself in front of Stephan. Both men glared, visually challenging the other
person. With a rustle of leaves, several black leather jacketed figures dropped
from the surrounding trees and formed a group behind Robert. "Hey, guys, I
was wonderin' when ya all was gonna drop in."
One of Robert's friends
handed him a black leather jacket. On the back was a large insignia of a coiled
cobra, fangs bared and dripping blood. "Now ya got your supporters and I
got mine." An evil grin crossed Robert's face. "Suddenly got real
even, didn't it? We can do this nice and fight fists, or...." Robert
pulled a knife from his jacket pocket. He flicked it open, examined it, closed
it and returned it to his pocket.
Stephan paled.
Robert stepped closer.
"Ya get one shot. Make it good. 'Cause then I'm gonna break your fuckin'
face."
Stephan swung. Robert
caught the punch and turned his fist. His knuckles were close to Stephan's
face. "Continue or concede?"
"Concede."
Stephan's voice cracked. Robert released him.
"What're you
doing?" Derek jumped forward. "Hit him!" A friend restrained him
from charging at Robert.
"He's
Shoresmen." Stephan's voice filled with contempt. "He's not worth
it."
Derek knocked off his
friend and charged towards Robert's retreating back. Robert spun and drilled
his foot into Derek's stomach, stopping him in his tracks. Interlocking his
hands behind Derek's head, Robert lifted his knee and smashed Derek's face onto
his thigh.
"Ow! Fuck
you." Derek wiped blood off his face. "You broke my nose."
"Anythin' else ya'd
like me to break?"
Blood dripped onto the
pavement. Derek moved, but someone clasped a hand on his shoulder, pulling him
back. "Don't Derek. He's Shoresmen. They never lose a fight."
Robert faced the crowd.
He stood tall and held eye contact with everyone who met his gaze. "I
haven't taken my knife into your school, and until now, I ain't never worn my
colours in your town. But, if I'm challenged, I will defend myself." He
pointed at the onlookers. "Ya all live comfortable lives. Ya don't know
how to fight. I do." He pressed his finger onto his chest. "And I
will."
His gaze rested on
Julie's friend. "This all started 'cause Trish wanted to make Stephan
jealous. I didn't start nothin'. Ya ignore me and I'll ignore you, and at
term's end, I'm outta here." He turned to his friends. "Beer's on me,
guys." Not glancing back, Robert and his fellow gang members walked away.
Derek wiped the blood
off his face and glared at Robert.
Julie's gaze followed
while the insignia of the coiled snake faded as Robert and his compatriots left
the park. She reviewed what she'd witnessed. A group of people jumped out of
the trees and handed Robert a black leather biker jacket. Suddenly he went from
classmate Robert to Shoresmen Robert. A gang member fully equipped with an
insignia-emblazoned jacket and a knife, but somehow Robert was different from
the others. Soon the roar of a group of motorcycles signified Robert and his
colleagues' departure from Westland.
"Are you still
going on your date with him?" Heather's eyelids opened wide.
"You bet. There's
no way I'd miss this." Tricia bit her bottom lip.
"What if your
parents find out?"
Francine rolled her
eyes. "I wouldn't be caught dead with him. This is a Shoresmen we're
talking about." Speaking with the pompous authority fuelled only by
gossip, Francine flicked her hair back. "They're the most violent gang
around here. I heard that part of a gang initiation is to kill someone."
Tricia tilted her head.
"Kill? To be in a gang?"
"Trish, love."
Francine placed her hand on her friend's arm. "Gang members aren't like
real people. They're all bad blood. Robert got off the hook because the police
couldn't find his knife, but he just proved he has it and he'd use it. To them,
killing someone is like...us buying a new blouse. It means nothing."
The musical chords of
the overture to Swan Lake floated out of Julie's purse. She dug through it and
grabbed her smart phone. "Hi, Chris. Sure. Five seconds." She tossed
her cell back into her purse. "Gotta go girls. See you. Love you. Call
me."
***
Julie's family lived in
a large home situated on a tree-lined street in a newer neighbourhood of
Westland. Julie loved the atmosphere in her home. It was peaceful and loving,
although noisy at times with one younger brother and two younger sisters. She
was excitedly waiting for this Christmas, not due to the joys of the season,
but because her mother was expecting twins.
"It's got to be a
boy she's dreaming about." Younger sister, Sheila, giggled.
"Uh? Pardon?"
Julie looked around the dining room table at her two younger sisters, her
parents and one obnoxious little brother.
"I asked you three
times if you'd pass the salad." Her mother held out her hand, waiting for
the bowl.
"Anything
interesting happen at school today?" Her father reached for the bottle of
dressing.
Julie looked up from her
meal. "There's a new student at school. He's from North Shore."
"He's Shore? How
did he manage to get into Westland Prep? He has to pay tuition and maintain his
grade level." Her father tilted the bottle and Creamy Ranch drizzled onto
the lettuce.
"I don't know, but
he's there. We're both in bio. He had a disagreement with Mr. Parks, and the rumours
went around that he swore and threatened him with a knife."
Sandra Anderson gasped.
"I said rumours,
Mom. I was in class. Nothing happened. He asked Trish out to the dance
tonight."
"But she's been
dating Stephan for three months." Sheila was the gossip-loving sister.
"I know. Stephan
called him out on it. Robert didn't want to fight. He tried talking his way out
of it. He said he didn't want to get expelled." Julie realized she was
using her fork to emphasize her sentence. She placed it by her plate.
"Anyway, later that day the cops...I mean, police came and searched him
and his locker, but they didn't find a knife. I've talked to him a bit and he
seems nice."
"I don't want you
going near him. If he's Shore then he's trouble," said her mother.
"His not being
Westland leads into what I was going to say. He doesn't fit the Shore
stereotype. He's intelligent, mature, soft-spoken...."
She scratched her head.
"He's not the stupid, crass, North Shorer that I was led to believe he'd
be. I'm amazed at how economically prejudiced we are. We, Westlanders, sit up
here in our safe and secure neighbourhoods and pass judgement on others."
"Can I go?"
Jason stood. His father nodded, and Jason hurried out of the dining room.
Unfazed by her brother's
rude departure, Julie continued, "You were appointed judge, Daddy, because
of your knowledge of the law. Who chose us to pass judgement on North Shore?
Just because they live in a different part of town doesn't mean they're bad.
But nobody'll give this guy a chance. He's condemned solely because of his
address, and I think that's stupid." She heaved a sigh of relief at having
vented what needed saying.
Her mother tilted her
head. "What's gotten into you?"
"I don't want you
having anything to do with this person." Her father used his deep
commanding judge's voice. "I've had a lot of experience with North Shore
people in my court. They aren't like us. I may call Mr. Morris to see why this
Shorer's been allowed in to Westland Prep. I pay a hefty tuition to send you to
that school. I want your focus on your subjects, not on…you shouldn't have to
associate with the likes of a Shorer."
Julie wanted to say
more. Instead, she finished eating then left the table, announcing she had to
prepare for her date.
The doorbell rang at
8:15. Mr. Anderson answered it. "Christopher, how nice to see you. Come
in. How are you?"
"Just fine,
sir." Chris was wearing his team jersey, a crisply pressed pair of dress
pants and lots of his father's expensive Italian aftershave.
"How's your Dad? I
heard he injured his shoulder last week playing golf."
"His doctor said no
golf for three weeks. Mom says he can't possibly last."
"No." Mr.
Anderson laughed. "He'll be on his own psychiatrist's couch." Julie's
mother entered the living room.
"Good evening, Mrs.
Anderson. You're looking well."
"Thank you,
Christopher. Julie'll be down—"
"I'm here. Let's
go." Julie grabbed her purse and kissed her parents. She'd deliberated
about what to wear and decided on her short, red-leather skirt and white silk
blouse she'd bought when her family had gone to New York in August. She'd
slipped on her favourite, black stilettos and checked her earrings and makeup
in her mirror. After all, it was the first dance of the year, and she was now
one of the elite preparatory students, not a high school student. Tonight was
about seeing and being seen.
***
Chris and Julie
separated moments after entering the school gym. Chris went to talk to his
friends and Julie went with hers. Francine, Heather, Jennifer, Tricia and two
girls from the cheerleading squad were standing together. They smiled as Julie
approached. Everyone greeted her then the conversation changed to local school
gossip. Heather and Francine grabbed their dates and dragged them to the dance
floor. Julie glanced around, but couldn't see Chris.
Heather was talking
about a new app for her cell phone when Robert entered the gym. Tricia gasped,
grabbed Julie's arm, giggled, released it and raced over. She wrapped her arms
around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips. Julie glanced in the other
direction. When she looked back, Tricia and Robert had disappeared into the
crowd.
An hour later, bored and
annoyed at being ignored, Julie pulled Chris aside. His breath reeked of beer.
"You've been drinking."
"Less dance."
He reached for her but stumbled.
Derek and Heather stood
beside Julie. "This is boring. Let's go get some pizza."
"Slure. I
drive." Chris fumbled in his pocket.
Julie held out her hand.
"Give me your keys."
"I'm not drunk. I
drive. I godda go over ther…." He wandered into the crowd.
Chris wasn't at his car
when Julie arrived in the parking lot. She pulled the handle but it was locked.
Standing in the cool night air, she tapped her fingernails on the hood. Wonder where Tricia disappeared off to? Did
she spend all that time with Robert? Did she let him get past kissing? Did
they…no, not Tricia. She heaved a sigh of disgust. Where's Chris?
From between parked
cars, he staggered over. He dropped his keys, twice, then stood, holding them
like the Statue of Liberty's torch. "And you thought I was to drive to
drunk." He smiled.
Give me those."
Julie reached for his keys.
"I'd rather give
you something else." Chris pulled her tight against his body.
Open mouthed, he leaned
forward. She slapped her hands on his chest and pushed.
"Come on, what're
you saving it for, your wedding night?" He reached under her skirt and
groped for her butt.
Her heart raced as her
breaths came in short gasps. "No, Chris, no. Stop it!"
He pinned her to his car
with his leg as he wrestled with her blouse. A button popped off.
"Christopher. Stop
it!" Cold fear filled her.
His lips slobbered
against her mouth. The combination of aftershave, stale smoke and beer
nauseated her. She bit him. Chris pulled back in surprise. "You little
bitch." He touched his lip then raised his hand.
Julie shut her eyes and
threw her arms up to block his hit.
"She asked you to
stop."
Julie opened one eye.
Robert stood in front of
Chris blocking his way. He glanced over his shoulder. "Ya ok?"
She nodded. Her throat
was too dry to allow her to speak.
"Good. Move."
He pointed to a spot by a tree.
Hands trembling and
knees shaking, Julie had trouble obeying.
Chris clenched and held
up his fists.
Robert glanced at them
then snorted. "Ya actually gonna try and take me on." He grabbed
Chris by the front of his shirt. "What do ya want me to do with him?"
"He's dru – drunk.
He didn't mean...." She covered her mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.
Not believing what he
heard, Robert glanced at Julie then shook his head. With a powerful backhand slap,
he spun Chris around and left him sprawled on the trunk. He picked up the keys,
swung his arm back and stopped. He walked to a garbage can, dropped them in and
chuckled. "Friends shouldn't let friends drive drunk."
Julie tried fixing her
blouse, but her fingers refused to cooperate.
"Are ya sure you're
ok?" The smile left his face.
The reality of the
moment descended upon Julie in a wave of repulsion. Robert took one step
towards her, but she backed away. Confusion swirled in her head and caused a
sickening knot in her stomach. He was Robert, a classmate. No, he was
Shoresmen. A gang member. He rescued her from Chris. Trust him. He couldn't be
trusted.
Could he?
"It's ok. You're
alright. Relax." He inched towards her, wrapped her in his arms and held her.
Julie buried her head
into his chest; calmed by his strength. There was no expensive Italian
aftershave or stale beer to repulse her, just a deep musky smell, which
triggered an emotion she couldn't catch, as it was instantly submerged under
waves of repulsion. Her body shook as she fought to control her breathing.
"How could he? How co…? Why?"
Robert didn't answer,
instead letting the comfort of his arms soothe her. She snuggled closer, closed
her eyes and listened to his heartbeat. With each pulse, the chilling effects
of her shock faded. Julie didn't want to break the spell of the moment. Her
breathing returned to normal and her pulse slowed. Everything was perfect.
"Let go of her. You
son of a bitch." Stephan grabbed Robert and wrapped him into a headlock.
Julie couldn't move as Derek threw punches at Robert while he struggled to free
himself.
She blinked three times,
trying to focus on what was happening. "No. Stop." She grabbed at
Derek, but Stephan pushed her away. Julie looked for a teacher, a police
officer – anyone who could help. The parking lot was dark and empty.
Stephan shoved his face
to within an inch of Robert's. "Now we'll show you Shore trash how good we
Westlanders are." He stepped back then spit on Robert's shirt.
Chris pulled himself up
off the ground and stood next to Stephan. "Hit the bastard."
"Stop it, Steph!
You've got it all wrong. He didn't do anything." Julie pulled at his arm.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Stop."
Stephan placed his hand
on Julie's face and shoved her away. "Back off. We'll deal with this
bastard!"
With one arm free,
Robert edged around and drove his elbow in Stephan's stomach, who yelped and
released his grip. Robert spun. "What? Ya didn't learn your lesson the
first time?"
The two men circled each
other looking for that first opening. Derek picked up his beer bottle and
before Julie shouted a warning, he swung. The glass crashed against Robert's
head. He stumbled, shook his head then sank to the ground.
Derek chuckled.
"Shoresmen always win their fights, yeah right." With a powerful
swipe, he kicked the unconscious Robert.
Julie stepped forward
and knelt beside him.
"Leave the garbage
alone." Stephan pulled her away. "Come on, we'll take you home.
Derek, get Chris."
Julie stared at a
trickle of blood on Robert's forehead. "No, we have to help him." She
tried to pull away, but Stephan dragged her to his car. Numb from the events,
she sat in the back seat.
The sound of the engine
snapped her from her dazed state. "Stephan, stop, we need to go
back."
Stephan put the car into
gear and pulled away. Through the passenger window, she saw Robert's prone
figure lay with eyes shut while blood dripped onto the pavement.
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