On another note:: Well, updates are going to be even more spread out now. I made my high school's volleyball team, which is a great thing for me, but that means I'll be busier than ever now. We have practices Monday thru Saturday, I believe, not to mention games. School hasn't even started yet, and already I'm busy as ever. I'm trying, I promise, and I won't forget about any of my fics. Another thing is that I'll admit it; I did no research on British Schools in the 1940's or anything. I read a little, or the little I could find, at least--trust me, I looked for twenty minutes-- but it's mostly guesswork. So don't be too hard on me; point out some tips if you can, but honestly, I know what I did wrong. Sort of. o.o
Ah, school. That was where it all started, I believe.
The first day back was most interesting. Students laughingly resembled ants to us as they swarmed over the school grounds, happily chattering away to each other as they exchanged stories from their holiday. They were so insignificant compared to our experience.
We stood awkwardly over to the side, watching all this happen around us critically. They were stupid, or, for lack of a better word, naïve. It would be hard to act like them while retaining some sort of dignity. We knew this. We weren't sure if we were willing to stoop. But we didn't seem to have to worry about that, because either they had already noticed the odd behavior, or they simply were ignoring us. No one approached any one of us. We knew we had had friends here, but whether it was our cold eyes, the way we stood with our heads held high, or just the fact that we were all together, no one tried to pull us into the throng of students. It was amusing how no one would meet our eye; grim amusement maybe, but amusement. We couldn't possibly be isolated that easily, could we?
The bell rang, giving everyone a five minutes warning that class was to start soon. We didn't say anything to each other. Our eyes met briefly between each of us, and in unison we went our own ways.
Even on my own, I held my dignity and must have sent an aura of it around me, because still no one spoke to me. The senseless chatter was easy to drown out with simply my thinking, amazed at how many oddly dressed children were in this one place. Sure, I'd seen many in the city, and of course on the train, but it was still hitting me senseless over the head.
I must have left early enough, because once I was in my wing of the school, I ran across no one, the only sound being my footsteps and the faint voices of the students which were slowly growing stronger as they neared. I looked down at the slip of paper on which I had scrawled my classroom number on. A quick glance around did me no good in helping to finding my class. Having no intention of getting caught up in the maelstrom of my peers, I walked on, glancing at the doors and their golden pallets with the number stamped across them. I should be getting close, I thought.
I rounded the corner and found that I wasn't completely alone. A small girl, who looked to be about two years younger than me, stood with her books clutched to her chest as she peered at a door. One fist was clamped firmly over what I could only assume was the leg of a toy rabbit. The moment I saw her, a name seemed to drift lazily through my mind. Abigail, that was it.. Of course, I knew her before.. er, at least I thought I had.
"Uhm.. er.. Abigail.. do you happen know where room 23A is?" I asked, trying to sound as confident as I looked by approaching her. I was hardly ready for her reaction.
The moment my voice rang out to her, she had whipped her head around, her eyes widening in what I couldn't decide between fear and hatred. I had no idea as to why; for Aslan's sake, I hadn't said anything out of the ordinary. I just needed simple direction, that was all. "You!?" she shrieked, looking absolutely frazzled and no one should have blamed me for taking a step back in surprise. If her hands weren't full, I bet she would have pointed a finger at me in accusation. "And why should I help you, especially to get to a classroom you've been in for the whole first semester? You bullies are as thick as a brick wall!" Her words were angry, but her large, liquid brown eyes were wide with fear, and she stood there for a moment, her mouth open as though she would say more, but the moment I finally had the courage to try to stutter some sort of question, she turned tail and fled down a side corridor.
…I was missing something here.
I managed to find my classroom on my own with a minute to spare, not daring to even look at anyone else in case they gave me the same reception. With my head ducked low, I slipped into the first empty desk I came across, which happened to be just in front of the teacher's desk. It was empty, and there was no sign of her anywhere.
A girl with blonde hair, curled and draped over one shoulder neatly, flounced into the room, looking back and waving to her friends before she turned, her eyes scanning the front row seats. There was only one left, and it happened to be the one beside me. Again, the moment her eyes set on me, a dark look passed over her face and her lip curled in disgust, glaring directly towards me. I blinked, wondering why I was being treated as such, narrowing my eyes in exasperation before turning away and drumming my fingers on the desk idly, staring hard out the window without seeing. Whether she took that as defeat, or she really wanted a front seat, I heard her slide in the desk beside me and from the sound of it, drop her books to the ground and slammed a pencil onto her desk. How temperamental, I thought with a smirk.
Students continued to trickle in the room, the number of vacant desks growing smaller until there were very few left and scattered about the room. I watched out of the corner of my eye as they entered, blinking at one particular girl who paused to scrutinize the number on the door for a rather long time before walking in. The murmur of talk continued on over the tardy bell, and I blinked at the lack of teacher. Four boys dashed noisily into the room, slipping into their seats and sniggering all the while, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes and turn towards the window beside me preferring to block out this embarrassment of a classroom with some good thinking.
I was still mulling over the odd reactions my presence stimulated when a different sort of feeling fell over the room, and it was stifling how tense the room became then. Turning, I swept my gaze over classroom and finally to the doorway, hardly interested but enough to annoy me until I found the cause of the stupid issue.
I hadn't the faintest idea as to why everyone seemed so intimidated by the appearance of the figure, who I could only assume was the teacher. She was a short, squat woman, with a pinched face that I was sure was a permanent feature. Her thin lips were pressed into a tight line as her beady eyes scanned over the room once, before making her way to the center of the room. I couldn't help but pair her image to a penguin, her walk resembling a waddle. It was completely laughworthy.
"I hope that you all had a fine holiday?" she asked, turned to us with a prim smile that was void of warmth.
No one breathed a word.
She beamed, as though she had received an excellent answer. I couldn't help but roll my eyes in exasperation. It amazed me that if people knew my siblings' secret, we would be considered weird, when yet they didn't know how odd they were themselves. For goodness sake, we were in a classroom, and people were acting as though an enemy leader had marched through the door with an army, when in actuality, it was a fat little woman with issues. "Well, I must remind you that we are no longer on vacation, and horseplay shall not be tolerated. Now, if you could get out your notebooks, and we'll review what we covered last semester.."
She droned on in her sickeningly cheery voice, and it was amazing at how easily I was able to tune her out. The tip of my pencil traced lightly over the first, blank page in my book as I dragged it across the paper absently, fully prepared to settle in for a boring waste of my time. I glanced about the classroom, but there was hardly anything interesting about it; it was simply a small, square box in which we had been confined in. There was a painting here and there someone had hung to make a feeble attempt to liven up the room, but it was nothing compared to the brilliant tapestries that had been hung in the Cair's spacious, marble halls.
It was a dull, little room, perhaps the dullest I had ever been in. If there hadn't been a window beside me, I might have suffocated from the drab. It was absolutely horrifying to me! If I had to deal with this for the rest of my life..
I knew I wouldn't. It couldn't possibly be allowed. We were meant for Narnia, not this tired, rough lifestyle. Aslan wouldn't allow it, that I was sure of.
The mere thought of the Lion sent warmth through me, and though I suddenly felt rather happy, I frowned to myself. I knew that thinking of Narnia for periods of time often resulted in pain, vivid pain, being able to remember it but not being able to see it. I needed to direct my attention onto something else.
The only issue was that there was nothing else to really focus on. The few things that held some bit of interest held very little interest, and they were hardly worth my time. I stared out the window, tapping my pencil softly against the wood of my desk in slight irritation. I was going to go insane, trapped in here.
The grounds were pristine and the grass was cut so short it was ridiculous. What a waste of beautiful land. I couldn't help but notice that it would be a rather good place to ride, if there were any horses at my hands. I smirked at the thought of what Philip would make of our horses, or rather, the lack of Horses, and the lack of good grass—
Wait. Right. Wasn't supposed to think of those things.
Faintly, I registered some sort of talk about math in the background, no doubt incredibly basic. With a faint groan, I turned my gaze lazily back towards the teacher, noticing two things. One, there was something written on the board. Secondly, she was staring right at me.
"Mr. Pevensie, perhaps you could come up to the front and write the answer on the board, since you are paying such close attention." She gave me that stupid grin, and it took self reminding to not mutter "Idiot," under my breath. I heard a few snickers from behind me as I stood, my eyes dull and taking one glance at the equation on the board. Twelve times eight. Typical, they had to be so laughingly easy. Without another thought towards the problem, I scrawled ninety six on the board, slipping back into my seat and dusting off my now chalky white hands. I glanced up at the teacher, setting her with a cool gaze as she gave a contempt look before turning to look at what I had written, and it was almost as if someone had dealt her a blow to the face. I smirked. After all, what was to expect, after all the hours spent in the library with Tumnus studying so hard; I wasn't called wise for no reason—
I winced to myself, pushing thoughts of the faun and my titles from my mind. No. Not now.
I could hear the teacher talking hesitantly at long last—"Very..er.. good; now would you come up and do the next one, Anna;" but I wasn't really listening. I was watching without looking. I could sense the surprise, and it annoyed me. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, and glanced up to see the girl beside me—Anna—staring at me in disbelief as she stood. My eyes narrowed in irritation, and she turned promptly and walked up to the board in an embarrassed fluster. Her problem was fifteen times three. "Forty five," I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes as I turned away, glaring out the window. It took her a full minute to do the problem.
Class went on somewhat along those lines. About five more times, she tried to catch me on the unaware, trying to humiliate me, I think. So sorry for her; I'd been through fifteen years of excellent teaching that she would never be able to live up to, or catch up to. This was all a joke to me, and it was completely void of humor. By the time the bell rang, I was nearly fuming in irritation. Snatching up my books, I escaped through the door, walking briskly down the hall and just away from that box of a room. I thought I might have heard someone call my name, but I just kept walking. There was no way I was going back there.
I hadn't the faintest idea as to where any of my siblings might be, so I didn't really bother myself by looking for them. Hopefully there would be plenty of time later to discuss the horrors of this joke. At the moment, I just needed to vent.
I managed to find a courtyard—swarming with students, of course, but I didn't really mind this time, seeing as I could hopefully blend in and not distract people—and stole a seat on one of the few benches. They were empty. Everyone seemed to stand. So I felt no guilt at all when I put my books beside me and hid my burning face in my hands, gasping slightly. At least the pain of my remembrance wasn't overbearing, but it was enough to leave me breathless. Not to mention my immense irritation. How in Aslan's name was I supposed to live through this torture? I felt humiliated and out of place in what everyone here called everyday clothes, embarrassed for the people in my class by their stupidity, students and teacher alike.. I wasn't ever going to get the hang of this.
"You're odd." The statement seemed to override the senseless chatter in the background, and it was definitely louder, or closer at any rate. I ignored it at first, before I realized that the absence of the voice was an awkward silence I was drawing out. The statement had been directed at me.
I lifted my head. Her eyes were the first thing that stood out; they were huge, larger than any I had ever seen, seemingly bright grey, and they stared down at me as I blinked blankly. Besides her brilliant eyes, she was overall seemingly normal in the English world, with her standard girl's uniform and her blonde hair pulled back with a clip. I didn't recognize her. Actually, I did. She was the girl that had been staring the door down before class. But no name came to mind. Obviously, I had actually never met her.
She continued to stare at me, but it wasn't accusing, mocking, or anything I would've expected with such a comment. Her eyes flashed expectantly. It took me a moment to get it. She was waiting for a reply.
I hadn't really expected such a direct contact with anyone, having thought I could just fade into the background, but I really wasn't ready for such a direct statement. When I realized I had been gaping, I gasped, "Sorry." She tilted her head to one side. Not the right thing to say. Regaining my demeanor, I said a little more convincingly, "What?"
That seemed to fit. Her lips curled into a small, delighted little smile as she repeated in the same, standard, plain voice, "You're odd."
Alright then? I wasn't so much surprised anymore, but more or less annoyed. "Might I ask why?"
She blinked and said, "If you want to." The tone of her voice was serious. This wasn't a joke for her.
I raised an eyebrow. This was a waste of time. "Well, I do," I said, trying to make the edge to my voice clear.
She tilted her head even further, her large eyes aglow as they continued to stare me down. I felt squirmed slightly under her gaze. "Well, ask then, silly!" She didn't laugh, but something told me that she was amused.
I was on the verge of just snatching my things and leaving, but whether it was her brightened eyes or just her odd behavior, I stayed, staring at her incredulously. She was being perfectly serious. She wasn't making a joke. It made me want to laugh. At the same time, it made me want to go run and hide under a rock.
I didn't ask. Instead, I said, "I'm not odd."
She tapped her foot, placing one hand on her chin as she squinted her eyes, looking me over as I felt my face begin to burn again. "Well, maybe you're not odd looking, but you are odd," she finally said, relaxing and blinking her eyes wide once more. She paused before saying, "You are smart. Or did you cheat?"
Oh, now I was miffed. "How could I cheat on a blackboard?" I asked glumly, my eyes narrow. Was everyone simply amazed with simple math skills?
But at my statement, her eyes widened impossibly more. "Why, you're right!" she exclaimed, gawking. "But then that means I'm right! You are odd!"
"Intelligence makes me odd?"
"Well, alright then. Maybe not just that. But…" She paused, her voice now going down to a whisper as she leaned towards me so I could hear. "You walk. You talk. But everything about the normal things is.. odd." She straightened then, staring at me again. "You are quite odd indeed."
Like she was one to be talking.
"I simply have dignity," I countered.
She gawked again. "You're doing it!" she shrieked, absolutely delighted. People were turning to stare at her now; I knew my cheeks were flushing an even deeper red.
"Talking?" I asked, exasperated.
She calmed down again, catching her breath, becoming motionless as she stared at me again. "No, no, it's not the fact that you are talking. People do it all the time. If it was talking that made you odd, then everyone would be odd, and everyone would be quiet, which would make it very hard to communicate to other people."
I blinked.
"Anyways, no is the answer. It's the way you talk. Everything you should do normally, you do oddly. You stand out." She blinked her large eyes at me.
Oh no. It wasn't like I was receiving odd stares all the time. So I did a simple math problem. How was that so different?
"I don't stand out," I replied stubbornly.
She stared at me silently for another long moment. Her gaze continued to set me off edge, and I disliked it. I wasn't different.. noticeably. I hadn't done anything too out of the ordinary, for Aslan's sake. "Well, believe what you like," she finally said. "But I think you are very different." I waited for her to elaborate as she stood, but she remained silent, until she flashed her grey eyes at me once more and turned and walked away. "'Bye, Edmund."
I knew I was probably gawking at her as I watched her disappear into the sea of students, and as I returned my attention to myself, I realized I was gawking, and immediately stopped. That was one of the more interesting experiences of my life in this world. She looked normal enough, but her actions spoke loudly enough, and they were screaming, "I'm different!" It seemed as if she had been describing herself the whole time she had been talking.
She'd noticed much too quickly, too. No one else seemed to notice, or care; so I had the fastest one to answer questions. So I had set the teacher off. She was a stupid woman, anyone could have.
I might have followed after her, but she was no where to be found, and I realized I hadn't caught her name. I would see her every morning, though; we had at least one class together. No need to rush about, or seem needy. She was just an odd girl. And to her I was an odd boy.
I didn't understand. And I was curious as to why.
