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Chapter Two – Grace
Grace Van Pelt always arrived early for English, because it was her favorite subject and was taught by her favorite teacher. Unlike the other kids, though, it wasn't her only favorite lesson or her only favorite teacher. They were all her favorites.
Grace liked to learn.
Her father didn't see what the big deal was. Like most of the family, he had flunked school after spending so much time tending to the farm. Grandpappy Van Pelt's arthritis had grown more and more severe throughout Grace's father's childhood, until it reached the stage where it was down to his five sons to run the farm.
But Grace, just like her mom, had no time for running farms or playing football like her daddy and his brothers had at her age. All she ever had time for was studying, day in, day out, in the hope that she could break the Van Pelt family mold and do something useful with her life.
"Whatcha reading there?" asked a voice.
Grace glanced up from her book and tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. Wayne Rigsby, her daddy's golden boy.
Her father coached the Calvin Bradley Isaacs High School football team. The CBI football team was well known across multiple states for their 'unbeatable' superstar, Wayne Rigsby.
Grace blushed, a reaction that only seemed to happened when Wayne talked to her. She couldn't help it, not when he shot her those puppy-dog eyes and goofy grin.
"Nineteen Eighty-Four," she whispered, staring at Wayne's varsity jacket instead of his face. She swallowed. "George Orwell."
"Ah." He feigned interest. Grace knew Wayne hated books, the one thing she lived for. "Is it any good? What's it about?"
"It's about a controlled, futuristic, dystopian society where one man battles against the corruption that surrounds him," she babbled. "It teaches us that we must not let our world become a Communism-fuelled creation where everyone is being watched at all times. It's essentially a battle between what's right and wrong, except the visions on right and wrong have been shifted and warped until right equals wrong and wrong equals right."
Grace grinned and inhaled, having not breathed through the entire speech. She then blushed heavily, and internally kicked herself when she saw Wayne's lost expression.
"I . . . see . . ." he responded, when Teresa Lisbon yelled his name.
"Gotta go," he smiled, and she almost fainted at the sight of that sweet, genuine smile.
Grace mentally steeled herself against those sorts of feelings and went back to Orwell, half-watching Wayne getting bossed around by the Lisbon girl. Grace's daddy knew her daddy, and apparently all those Lisbons were bad news – alcoholics, thieves, bullies. Grace shook her head, wiping away the evil thoughts. She always took special care not to judge anyone by the rumors she heard.
All of a sudden, Grace saw Wayne lift up one of the new boys as if he were a doll, and place him in the front row, just a few seats down from her. She carefully marked her page with a bookmark and watched wide-eyed as Wayne approached her.
"He was in Teresa's seat," he stated, as if that explained everything.
She shook her head. "And? You resort to physical bullying?"
Wayne looked upset. He dropped his voice. "You know what Teresa's like. She's temperamental, just like that dad of hers. Best thing to do with someone like that is keep them happy, right?"
Grace frowned, but just nodded. "Who is the new kid anyway?"
He shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. Rumor has it he's a carnie, travelling with that carnival that's in town for a couple of weeks. Definitely looks like one," he snorted.
"Wayne, don't be mean! We mustn't be judgmental of people." She eyed up the new boy. "Besides, what's wrong with him?"
Her friend laughed –almost nervously. "What's wrong with him?" he echoed scornfully, causing Grace to blush and duck her head again. "You mean, aside from the fact he's carnie scum?"
"Wayne!" Grace felt shocked that these words were coming from thoughtful, protective, sweet Wayne's mouth.
"What? It's true! Trust me, he's up to no good."
She rolled her eyes and was about to argue when Mr Minelli made his appearance.
"See you later," murmured Wayne, practically flying back to his seat before Grace had a chance to reply.
"Take a seat, Miss Lisbon," ordered Mr Minelli sternly, and Grace resisted the urge to rudely turn around. "Don't keep us waiting, dear."
Grace aligned her pencil case with her books so she could work efficiently as soon as possible this lesson, and was mildly surprised when bad-girl Teresa Lisbon dropped down in the seat beside her.
Grace scolded herself for her lack of manners and tried to smile invitingly at her, but Teresa must not have seen, because she spun the other way to stare at something near the back of the classroom.
Grace uncapped her favorite ink pen – it wrote in a beautiful deep violet – and prepared herself to begin taking notes.
