Chapter 1 – We Meet Again
Everyone thought that he was an exchange student, which was understandable because of his Croatian accent. But what they didn't know was that his family moved from Croatia at the beginning of the school year because it was the beginning of war for his home. His parents were trying to protect him and his brothers from being harmed.
Out of his family, he knew English better and understood it the best. He was the oldest of three boys, and his little brothers, Ivan and Michael were still in Jr. High. They were still learning their English.
He'd met people over the few weeks of summer that they had before school started. He'd walked the few blocks to Ellis Park from his house, and met a few guys who'd been playing basketball. They were short a player one day, and asked him to play. Given his 6'3" height, they discovered that he was pretty good for a guy that wasn't from America.
And now, he was walking down the cemented ground to the entrance of the school getting awkward eyes from nearly everyone that he passed. Maybe it was the fact that he was wearing a pair of black slacks and black boots with a white shirt; or maybe it was that the breeze was blowing through his hair which hadn't been cut in two weeks; or maybe it was that he hadn't shaved and was looking a little scruffier than usual. Or maybe it was just that he was a new guy.
He saw one of his friends leaning against the railing in the middle of the stairs, and he picked up his pace a little. He didn't want to seem eager to catch up to them, but he really didn't like feeling uncomfortable in the midst of people that he was almost a foot taller than. When his friend looked over at him and smiled, he relaxed because he didn't feel so dumb rushing to them.
"Luka. What's up?" the guy asked, reaching out and clapping a hand against his shoulder blade.
"John. Nothing much," he shrugged, "you?" He looked around at the group of people standing beside John, and realized that he recognized a few of them. A short girl with blonde and curly hair sat on the brick wall at the top of the stairs, he'd only remembered meeting her once. A girl leaned against the rail beside John, and waved, Luka knowing that he'd met her more than once.
"Just got my class list," John shrugged, shoving his hand into his pocket and he pulled out a folded over piece of paper.
"I got mine last week," he said, shoving two of his fingers into his shirt pocket and pulling out a piece of paper that resembled John's. He unfolded it and glanced over it before handing it to John. John's eyes immediately narrowed at the paper, pointing his index finger at some of the words on it while leaning over and showing the girl with curly hair.
"You have some classes with Sam," he said, looking up at Luka as he handed the paper to Sam and pointed her way. She looked over the paper before looking up and adding her listening ear. "I'm sure she'll show you around."
"Sure," she nodded immediately, smiling. She hopped off of the brick wall as the bell rang, and reached out to tug the sleeve of his shirt. Of the few people standing on the stairs, they were the first ones to walk into the building. "I'm kind of surprised that you have a junior English class," she said, glancing at him walking beside her out of the corner of her eye.
"I guess you've never heard my English," he smiled, looking down at her. He was a foot taller than her, given. He paused, delicately putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "You're a junior?" he asked, he wasn't sure that was the word that he was supposed to use.
"No, I'm not. I'm actually a sophomore," she said, "I just take a couple of junior classes. I home schooled for a part of last year. I got ahead a little." She smirked because she was proud of herself. He smiled, and he nodded to let her know that he understood.
"Are we in the same classroom?" he asked.
"Yeah. Just stick by me and I'll walk you through it," she said, looking down at his class schedule again. "It looks like we also have the same history class. You don't study U.S. history where you're from?" she asked teasingly.
"Croatia. We don't study history in Croatia. Something about not bringing up the past that makes war easier over there," he smiled sheepishly with a shrug.
"We study history to learn from our past mistakes. I'll tell you what, you have any questions, ask me and I'll see what I can do," she told him, patting his upper arm. He nodded, his mouth slightly hanging open as he moved his jaw back and forth on its hinges. He was listening intently to her, doing his best to understand.
"Thanks," he said breathlessly. She smiled, and walked towards the classroom that they'd spend their first hour in for the rest of the year. He paused, his gaze guiltily following her into the doorway. He didn't know why his eyes locked on her form walking from him, but her dark blue jeans were flared at the bottom, the black boots that she had on were small, and the blue t-shirt that she had on was pulled over a long-sleeve white shirt.
He soon followed her in through the doorway, and sat down in the desk behind her. His hands slid across the desk, and he let his fingertips hang off of the edge of the desk. He leaned forward on his elbows and slightly stood up to ask her a question.
"So, how many classes do I have with you?" he asked with a smile. She laughed, slightly shaking her head. Her eyes shut momentarily, brushing her hand across her forehead. She turned in her desk to look at him.
"Well, we have our first half of the day together. Now we'll never get a break from each other," she joked, rolling her eyes playfully
"I'm not complaining," he smiled, and she did the same. The bell rang again, and she turned in her seat to face the front. He smiled, and leaned his elbows back against the desk.
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He wanted her. He knew that he shouldn't want her, he hadn't known her nearly long enough to want her like he did, but he did want her. He at least wanted to touch her just make sure she was real, but he shouldn't. After all, she was only 16 and he was 18.
But the age difference really didn't have anything to do with it, and he knew it. He didn't care that she was 16, and she'd still be 16 in the next few months; he didn't care that when he would have his nineteenth birthday she'd still be 16. He just wanted to know her more.
He'd sat close to her in every class by her request, and now the bell for lunch was about to ring. He didn't know what to do from there, and as he opened his mouth with his index finger pointing up, the bell interrupted his thoughts. He waited for her to climb out of the desk, and everyone else had left the room before she did.
"So, what do I do now?" he asked with a shrug. She laughed, slinging her backpack over the shoulder.
"Catch up with John, I guess," she shrugged. "I'm going home, and I'll be back after the class after lunch," she smiled, walking towards the door, him at her heels.
"And, you're going to do this everyday?" he asked, "You don't have a class after lunch?"
"No, I don't. I have stuff that I have to take care of at home," she smiled apologetically. She stopped in the doorway, and leaned her shoulder into the doorframe. His hand met the doorway and slid up as his arm reached higher then the top of the door.
"Are you going alone?" he asked, pursing his lips together. She stopped, looking down at the floor, and she let out a sigh. "Because you shouldn't go alone. I'll walk you if you'd like," he added, and that was when she knew that he just didn't want to be away from her.
"Really, Luka. I can take care of myself. I'm going to be doing this everyday, and you really don't have to walk me," she said, shaking her head. She pushed herself off of the doorframe, and walked through the silent and empty hall. Her boots echoed across the tile floor, and soon his did the same, as his pace was quick to catch up to her.
"I want to walk you, though, Sam. It'd really make my day," he said, walking beside her, keeping his eyes on her while occasionally glancing in front of him.
"I'll tell you what, I'm not going to ask you to walk me. Let's just say that you followed me to my house, and I didn't want to be impolite and not speak to you," she said with a sigh. She pushed the Velcro of her bag down, and adjusted the strap over her shoulder.
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She quietly shut the front door to the house behind her, and walked into the living room while clutching the strap to her bag in her hands. She saw the 4-month-old baby lying in the play pin, and gently walked to the edge of it. His eyes were open wide just looking around above him, and when he saw her he pointed his finger up at her with a smile.
She dropped her bag to the floor, and reached down to lift him up. Cradling him in her arms, she smiled. She'd missed him more than she though she would, and she held him to her close. She didn't know that she would miss him that much, and she realized that she'd be doing this everyday.
"Hey, kiddo. I've missed you," she smiled, kissing his forehead. "You look like you've grown while I was gone, Alex," she said, pulling back and brushing her fingertips down the side of his face. He giggled, and drool fell from his mouth.
She wiped it off of his mouth using her shirt at the hem of her blue, cotton t-shirt. She rubbed his back soothingly, and his forehead dropped into the crook of her neck. She had goose bumps holding her son in her arms.