1.
Strangely so, the weather wasn't constantly changing anymore. It was winter, and everything about this mountainous desert was cold and windy. Tumbleweeds were a rarity, but they were still a present danger, especially for a pedestrian crossing this arid place. Especially for a thin teenager who was half blinded by the sun.
Even though Blake had sunglasses and a hood pulled down low, the rays from the sun still pierced through whatever he had covering his sensitive and unusually colored irises. Half running, half jogging, he dodged the shrubs and sharp scales of the Joshua Trees that suddenly loomed in front of his eyes. He ran the same path everyday to get to a massive complex, full of portables, two large gyms, and a plethora of lockers. The local high school once told parents in a meeting that they would try their best to keep the school open, and through rain, sleet, snow, or hail, they have persevered in their promise. Even the adding of 50 miles per hour winds to the list didn't hinder their efforts. The only thing that could close the school for a day or four was if everyone, including the snowplow driver, was snowed in their houses.
Keeping away from the main street that led directly to the school, Blake took a route much more hazardous that ran parallel to the road, so that he wouldn't get lost. If he realized the sound of the rush of passing cars was getting further away, he would move closer to the road, and vise versa. He continued his jog through the desert, and even though it would take him at least an hour to get to school, he did this everyday.
Finally, he nearly ran face-first into the fence that bordered the local elementary school, which was just downhill from the high school. After making a route around the rusting chain-link fences that surrounded the buildings that were decorated with gold leaves, brown and red turkeys, and orange horns of plenty, he arrived at the start of the sidewalk. The pine trees that dotted the massive area didn't brighten the mood at all. Instead, it seemed to mock the time before the desolate and dead season of winter, saying: "Oh, look at me, I'm green, beautiful, and lively forever!"
After the red brick schoolyard, the fractured and cold sidewalk came under his brisk step as he quickly slowed down to avoid attracting attention. Nearby, on an unpaved, dirt expanse, sat several city busses with cracked blue paint, unloading students who lived out of the reach of the yellow, school-district busses. With his destination in sight, he slowed down even further, and with the sun at his back, he could finally raise his head and pull down his hood without being blinded.
Blake had disheveled jet black hair, almost resembling the wacky hair one sees in those Japanese anime shows or manga, just not so unrealistic. He had pale white face to contrast his dark hair, allowing the rigid features of his face to clearly show themselves. Unconsciously, he slid a black gloved hand through his hair. It was almost a habit for him to do so, for it would flatten his mass of hair somewhat and avoid it being to conspicuous.
The teens from the bus would usually be creating a raucous amount of noise, but today, they were quite silent. Most of them had their hoods low and their jacket zippers up high. The wind and the dirt it kicked up weren't too much of a bother to Blake; he would only be slightly worried if the wind carried over something larger than grains of sand. He would never be short on company, and after months of walking the same short walk with the same people, he gradually picked up all of their names. Some of them even had classes that were the same as his. However, he stayed away from most of them, and they stayed away from him. There would always be a little island of emptiness surrounding him, and it was almost like he radiated an aura of hostility that kept everyone away. Rarely, someone who was also always had a dark, slim jacket, dark blue jeans, hiking boots, gloves, and had long hair might drift towards him, but the silence that sounded loudly between them always forced the person to find someone else to drift around. Today was no exception. He trekked the half mile, uphill walk surrounded by people, alone.
The school was probably once small, built to accommodate the even smaller population of people that once decided to try to populate a drab and harsh desert. It was also open-aired. However, as housing tracks were built on this barren mountaintop because of the cheap land, the school had to welcome the growing influx of immigrants. So they decided to expand cheaply, just like the homes. The school had wooden portables shipped from down the hill to the school, and now, these wooden structures make up most of the classrooms.
Although Serrano High School is mostly made of portables, the front gate and other original portions of the school were built with quality and care. Thus, the front office, library, and the complex that held all of the indoor classrooms looked decent and well built. Even though the front gate included a series of brick pillars supporting a peach-colored lattice, it was usually cramped and crowded with people who decided to loiter in a well-traveled area. So, Blake is a little claustrophobic, he usually took another way, cutting across the senior parking lot to a ramp that ran parallel to several baseball and soccer fields. The ramp leads up to the 800's, a group of portables on a slightly elevated surface, and the performing arts center.
Today, Blake decided to continue with his usual route, but when he found out the senior parking lot was completely fenced with yellow caution tape, it was too late for him to take an alternate route. The only other way would lead him around to the other side of the school, completely opposite to where his first class would be. Thus, he would have to bear with the cramped entrance of the school, and hopefully, he wouldn't freak out.
As the gate grew nearer, he swallowed nervously, but for the sake of face, he decided to continue onward. Thankfully, Blake was first in the group of the city-bus-kids, so he wouldn't have to be jostled around as much; it was practically a politely-squeezing-in-between-the-backs-of-two-people free-for-all in order to get into the campus. Tingling in anticipation, Blake found a niche between two people and dove in, desperate to get out of the sea of people. Wearing his hood over his forehead along with his sunglasses, he created an aura of mysteriousness that drove people's curiosity away. Just by posing as a proud and ignorant emo/gothic kid, like he normally did, he usually was usually ignored. And thankfully, today was no exception.
He took whatever open paths he could to get out of the crowd, and after nudging two lovebirds out of his way, he broke free. He breathed a small sigh, and as if to add finishing touches to his disguise, he pulled the slim jacket sleeve up just ever so slightly, revealing a black bracelet with gleaming silver studs. Now that he was safely within the confines of the school, and in a public area surrounded by people, his step was a lot slower, and more graceful in a way. However, it still seemed like he still radiated hostility that drove everyone out of his path. He made his way through the quad, a small, outdoor amphitheatre, a series of blue and gold tables with patterned rhombus-shaped holes, and the small, tiny cafeteria that could hold no more than a hundred of the school's one thousand five hundred students.
Throughout his entire walk, and underneath his black shades, his red eyes darted back and forth suspiciously, as if he was a policeman looking for a terrorist at LAX. Always, no matter what day, he would always be like this, always on the lookout for something from his past. However, for the select few who constantly stalk him and think he's a vampire, they would have noticed something quite peculiar. First, he wasn't walking to his first class, and secondly, he seemed to be quite determined. He was walking faster than normal, speeding around corners, and dancing around people who might have ran into him. Amazingly, he seemed to have a sense of purpose today.
If anyone was stalking him today, he would have left them far behind and, metaphorically, eating his dust. Blending in with the semi-busy hallways, he entered and exited different corridors, looking for something, or someone, that no one seemed to see. Finally, he exited the indoor part of the school, appearing near the health office and the counseling office. He slowed his pace to a slow walk. Without a doubt, he found what he was looking for. He squinted, staring against the glare of the rising sun at two people. One, a guy, wore a drab, black windbreaker with bright blue jeans, and thin, leather fingerless gloves. The other, a girl a bit taller than the guy, wore a long beige coat with black jeans and black leather gloves. One wouldn't think there would be anything unusual these two, but what was quite peculiar, in Blake's eye, was their pale complexion and how their sunglasses were practically darker than black, like his.
They were talking, and the girl briefly laughed, shaking her head slightly. As if she noticed something, she suddenly turned around, and gave Blake a smile. The guy turned around too, and gave him a quick smile. The girl, however, noticing the word "forever sad" etched into his face, she gave a quick frown and started talking to the other. They both had stopped walking, and with occasional glances, they were waiting for Blake to join them.
Blake had never seen these two before, and through unconscious eavesdropping, he almost knew all the students at this school. Without a second thought, he started to walk faster, accelerating slowly towards them. His side bag bounced on his waist as he tried to catch up to the happy couple. However, in some ghastly, dream-like manner, no matter how fast he walked, he could not catch up to them. Just as he thought he was finally getting close, the bell rang. As a sea of people suddenly appeared from nowhere, everyone was swept into different currents of students and the couple were swallowed by the living lake. Blake would have to wait a while in order to meet them.
Following the different rivers of people, his slight case of claustrophobia not even close to forgotten, he finally managed to arrive at his first class in time to hear the final bell ring. With a quick wave, the teacher, a tall blond-haired man by the name of Mr. Roberts, dismissed the tardy and started to call roll. However, Blake didn't even see the gesture, for he was much more focused on a different sight that nearly froze him on the spot. It was the pale pair, sitting at a table in back corner that was occupied yesterday by him. Blake clearly showed he was a little more than frustrated, but everyone, including the two, was too focused on chatting and laughing take any notice of someone who usually didn't want to be noticed.
He found an empty seat close to the door and after several more seconds of intense glaring, one of them finally noticed the man in black. She smiled and poked the guy, who then turned and waved at him to come over. A frown entered his face, but he still stuffed his folder in his pack. However, as he started to rise, the teacher began his lecture and everyone quieted down. Once again, a meeting between the two and him would have to wait.
The lesson was short and brief, and the rest of the time left was given for the students to "work on their homework", or in other words, talk. After hesitating for a few minutes, and a few false starts, Blake got up and slowly trudged over to their two-man white table. He stood over the table and placed each hand apart from each other on the edge of the desk. A slight breeze ruffled his hair as the air conditioner wheezed, gasped, and choked when it sputtered on. Their conversation halted to a stop, and they both turned to face him. Even indoors, all three of them had their sunglasses on tight to their faces.
"So…" she said. Her voice was soft and light, not like the hoarse voice some girls have.
"So what?" Blake's voice was a whisper, quiet, discomforting, and haunting.
They both slightly fidgeted in their seats, and their small, semi-warm smiles grew even smaller.
"So who are you?" His voice wasn't that different from hers, except that the words just rolled off of his tongue, as if he was born to talk.
"My name is Blake Reverie."
"Well, my name is Rebecca. He calls me Becca sometimes to annoy me," she said. Her smile had vanished like a bunny in a top hat.
"My name is Parker." His face was a little grim. One of his hands was tightly clutching the edge, the glove wrinkling. His other hand was rigid on his lap. Rebecca, on the other hand, seemed more relaxed, left leg over the other her hands on her lap. Her face, however, wasn't too happy. An awkward silence hung in the air, and according to popular belief, a gay baby was born.
Trying to relieve the silence, she said, "We're siblings."
Blake had no reaction. If his showed any emotion except for a constant frown that seemed to be etched in his face, the glasses hid any expression well. As the air conditioning sputtered and died, its last breaths knocked Blake's bangs down, covering his eyes and nose, giving him a haunting look, darkening his entire face. Parker and Emilie shivered slightly, and after seeing their brief shudders, Blake brushed his hair aside.
The dismissing bell saved another pair of parents from having a gay baby. With a few quick steps that made him seem like he was flying, Blake reached his desk, grabbed his pack, and was the first to knock aside the blue door and get out. The siblings looked at each other, and as they both got up and reached for their backpacks, they both shivered again, this time more prolonged.