Chapter 1
*First Day of School at T.C. Williams High School: September 4, 1971*
"What on earth?!" Isabelle exclaimed, as she slowly and carefully parked her car. This must be because of the school integrating and all, she thought. What's the big deal anyhow? She locked her car and cautiously proceeded towards the new high school, ignoring the ignorant racist comments and threats that surrounded her. She smiled to herself and saw two boys about her age, of different race, shake hands and greet each other in friendly manners. The light skinned boy's girlfriend standing next to him, had declined to shake her boyfriend's friend's hand. Isabelle shook her head, as flashbulbs went off violently everywhere, and she hurried inside. It was gorgeous outside; the sun was strong and bright, the sky was clear with white clouds dotting the southern sky, the leaves were vibrantly colored with fall's familiar tones, and the air smelled fresh and balmy. She would have liked to enjoy it a little bit longer and meet people outside, but how could she with a modern day civil war raging in front of her face?
Once she stepped into the unfamiliar hallways, the shouting and tension filled air proved that she couldn't escape the issue of integrating. People around her were giving *her* looks; and she felt the awkwardness envelop her whole. Either she was being glared at for her skin color or because she was new and foreign to Virginia.
She sighed and went to search for her locker. If she were back home, the first day of school would've been fun. She would be surrounded by her friends, walking with ease through the familiar gray and red hallways of her old high school in California. She would be waving to pretty much everyone in sight and enjoying the comforting feeling of her school. If only, she thought, with frustration as she continued to search for her locker, roaming around alone and confused.
Isabelle saw it coming—head on; like a freight train. The loud, angry fights, slamming doors, insults, and the car backing out of the garage in a frenzy, squealing into the night. They'd fight about money, how her father was a workaholic. She'd lay in bed crying, wishing it would all end; the fighting. It did. Her parents divorced, and her mother moved them to her childhood town; Alexandria, Virginia. Quiet, modest, little Alexandria. A far cry from the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles and the way of life Isabelle had grown to adapt to.
She quickly rid of her thoughts and found her locker, silently thanking God. Just as she opened it, the first bell rang and she noticed the empty hallways. She groaned and banged her head on her locker. Great. Not only was she the "new girl" but now she was going to have to walk into a filled classroom with everyone staring at her. If only some poor soul would take pity on her! Swallowing hard, she looked at her schedule and began her lonesome search. She had reached the end of the hallway, when a friendly voice called out to her.
"Excuse me!"
Isabelle spun around, her dark curls flying behind her. A young man about her age was rapidly approaching her, a big grin on his warm face. He was sharply dressed and poised like a gentleman, with cheerful brown eyes to match his complexion.
"Hello, I'm Jerry Harris. You look lost; would you like a hand?"
Isabelle quickly shifted her books to her left arm and held her right hand out for him to shake it. At first, he looked surprised, but quickly smiled even wider and took her hand. "I'm Isabelle Brooke. I just moved here to Virginia and I'm completely and utterly lost." She showed him her schedule and he laughed out loud.
"Well, what a lucky coincidence. I have that exact same class myself. It's on the other side of the building though." He started leading her in the opposite direction that she was going in. "You just moved here? From where?"
"California."
"Get out of here. One of my team mates just moved here from California, too." He smiled down at the petite girl with long dark hair and curls at the end, that bounced with her every step. She had smooth, peaches and cream skin, and soft brown eyes framed with long, dark lashes.
"Team mates?" she echoed.
"I'm quarterback for the T.C. Williams Titans," he said proudly. "Say, there's a party tomorrow for one of our players; it's his birthday. It's nothing big; just the football team, and some of their dates." His tone darkened a little. "If they're able to see past race and all." He looked down at her uncertain face as he continued to lead her into the stairwell. "Oh, it won't be a date or anything. It's just, you looked awfully lonely, and I thought you'd like to meet some people."
Isabelle smiled up at him. "I'd love to go, Jerry."
"Call me Rev. It's a nickname," he winked.
She laughed and breathed a sigh of relief. This guy was a savior. "I dunno, Rev. From the looks of it, everyone here is really hung up on skin color. I think I'd be the only date there!"
"Oh, you won't," he assured. "Not everyone here's narrow minded, contrary to popular belief. Besides," he said, laughter dancing in his eyes, "if all else fails, Sheryl will be there." He took her a little further down the hallway and they stopped in front of their class room.
"So, where's the party?" she asked, smiling.
"Coach Yoast's house. I'll pick you up; if you don't mind."
"Not at all."
"And where will this party be?" Evelyn Brooke asked at dinner that night. She and her daughter sat across from each other, with a big bowl of salad and a long loaf of French bread between them.
"It's this birthday thing that the high school's football team is throwing. It's at their coach's house. Coach Yoast, I think." She broke off a piece of the loaf and covered it in butter, then looked up at her stunned mother. "What's wrong?"
"Yoast?" she repeated. Isabelle nodded slowly, and leaned forward. Something was awfully fishy around here. "All right, Isabelle, you may go. But, bear in mind; it's a school night." She paused thoughtfully. "And please leave his home phone number and address with me?" She paused again. "In case of emergencies."