Chapter 03 – The First Day Of Many

The ride was uneventful. Emily barely spoke, and Henry was tactful enough not to ask any questions, sensing how terrified the sixteen-year-old girl was. He turned the radio on, hoping the music would help her relax.

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for...

At least, not everything would be odd and unfamiliar, the teen thought gloomily, as she heard the well-known lyrics of the song. Moments after Bono had finished his last verse, they arrived at the new school, and Henry opened the door for her. "You don't have to do that," she said embarrassed, and grabbed her backpack with shaking hands. Her legs were made out of jelly, and Henry had to support her as she unwillingly climbed out of the car.

"This is it," she stated in an attempt to sound somewhat confident, her glum face betraying her.

"Have a nice day, Emily," Henry wished her. Emily smiled tepidly at him. She doubted her day would turn out even remotely "nice". The old man hesitated. "May I... May I hug you?"

The youngster smiled affectionately at him. "Yeah, I'd like that very much."

After they separated, Emily felt a lot lighter. Nonetheless, every fibre of her body was telling her to turn around and run away, but the sound of her father's voice hindered her.

"Don't run away from your fears, Emily. Face them. Otherwise, they will grow stronger and eventually devour you."

The teenager gulped, her dad's advice still resounding in her head. "Okay, here we go," she said to herself and inhaled deeply, casting one last crooked grin in Henry's direction.

"Emily Prentiss, nice to meet you. How are you, dear?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, ma'am," Emily addressed the elderly woman sitting in front of her.

"I'm glad to hear that," the principal said. She was a strict looking woman in her mid-fifties but appearing much older, and Emily's first impression was that it would be ill-advised to draw unnecessary attention towards herself. This woman was surely not as lenient as her homeschooling teachers.

"You had excellent grades."

"Thank you," Emily mumbled, wondering if the woman held the right report card in her hands.

"I wasn't finished," said the principal, her face turning severe.

"Oh dear, here we go," Emily thought, expecting to be bawled out by Mrs. Simmons.

"Your mother was kind enough to hand me copies of your last three report cards. Generally speaking, you were an excellent student, nothing but A's, with the exception of Mathematics and Physics. And of course…" Mrs. Simmons paused dramatically and cast Emily and intimidating glance, "…Of course, without taking into account your last report card, where I see a lot of C's, some D's and even an E. Do you care to explain what happened?"

"I... I didn't study enough..." Emily stammered, knowing how lame it sounded. She stared down at her lap and started kneading her hands in an involuntary motion, wishing for nothing but for this day to end already. The principal looked at her in silence. "I would appreciate it if you were honest with me," Mrs. Simmons went on after a pause, her voice softer now. "Academically, you were an outstanding student, until last year that is. Then, your conduct started to decline, and it strongly reflected on your grades."

Mrs. Simmons put her glasses on her nose and cleared her throat before reading out loud. "Miss Prentiss arrived half an hour late to class, for the third time this week... Miss Prentiss skipped a whole week of school... Miss Prentiss did not attend to detention repeatedly... Miss Prentiss shows no respect for her teachers or other authority figures… That should be enough," she ended in an almost tender tone and put the report cards back on the desk.

"I... I'm sorry," Emily said sheepishly, her face red like a tomato that had spent too much time in the sun. "I was going through a rebellious phase and I didn't really think about the repercussions of my actions. What I did was stupid and irresponsible… Please don't tell my new teachers," she pleaded, meeting with Mrs. Simmons eyes for the first time since she'd entered her office.

"I won't," the principal promised solemnly. "But you have to do something for me too."

"Anything," Emily said hastily.

"I expect you to behave yourself, work hard, and not cause trouble ever again. I don't wish to hear a single complaint about you from your teachers. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, ma'am," Emily said firmly, a feverish determination on her face.

"Very good. Here's your timetable. I will walk you to your first period myself."

"This is Emily Prentiss." Twenty-six pairs of curious eyes looked directly at her. Her face was hot, and she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "I expect you to make her feel welcome here," said the teacher, a young woman with glasses and long wavy brown hair.

"Thank you," croaked Emily. Her eyes scanned the classroom for an empty seat, and they found one next to one of the windows. She hurriedly approached it and sat down, relieved that she didn't have to introduce herself. Thank God, the seat on her right was empty too. That way, she could avoid awkward questions. Emily took out her pencils and her notepad, and took a quick glance at the timetable Principal Simmons had given her. English Literature. Great, this was a subject she was good at. As the lesson continued and her classmates concentrated on taking notes, she allowed her thoughts to drift away.

Nine years ago, Jennifer's bedroom

"Hold still!" a small girl with two blonde braids commanded.

"I'm trying," whined the slightly older girl with a wince. "Ouch, you're pulling my hair!"

"That's because you won't sit still. You're worse than Jackie," scolded Jennifer. "There you go; now we look like twins," she said happily, proud of her "work of art".

The girls giggled and lay down on the floor, their heads touching each other.

"What do you wanna be when you grow up?" Emily asked her best friend.

"I don't know, a teacher or a mommy," answered Jennifer. "And you?"

"I want to be an ambassador like mom and visit every country in the world," said Emily earnestly.

"Don't you wanna have babies?" inquired the smaller girl.

"Yeah, maybe. But babies are extremely ugly."

"I think they're cute," Jennifer objected. "I wanna have four or five."

"First, you have to find a boy and marry him," said Emily matter-of-factly. "Then you have to have sex with him to make babies."

"Sex? What's that?"

Emily laughed. "It's another word for the f-word. You know, fu..."

"I know what the f-word is!"

"Good. Well, when you have sex a man puts his thing in your pussy. But children aren't allowed to do it, you have to wait until you're like, thirty or something. That's when my mom had me," she explained, pleased that she knew more about the topic than the blonde girl, who listened in awe.

"Ew, that sounds gross," Jennifer cried out, genuinely shocked. "I would never do that."

"You kind of have to if you wanna have kids," Emily said with determination. "And you gotta kiss him too, and touch him."

"But I don't want to."

"You have to. Don't worry, Paul says it doesn't hurt. Grown-ups do it because it's fun and because they want to have babies. And they only do it when they're in love."

Jennifer thought about this last bit, trying to process all this new information.

"Can two girls do that too?" she asked her friend.

Emily's eyes widened with surprise. "I don't think so, Paul never said anything about it," she said, unconvinced. "I think it doesn't work. See the kids at school? They all have a mommy and a daddy, not two mommies."

Jennifer pouted. "But I want to marry you."

Emily giggled. "You can't, silly."

"Why not?"

"Because we're best friends."

"Emily?"

Startled, Emily awoke from her daydream.

"Y-yes?"

"I was talking to you."

"Of course, I'm sorry," said the brunette, trying to remember what the teacher had asked her.

"Mr. Morgan, would you please care to repeat the question for Ms. Prentiss?"

"Sure."

Emily turned to her right. The seat was no longer empty, the boy must have arrived late, without her noticing him. He returned her puzzled expression by grinning widely. Emily blushed for the third time that day and looked down at her notepad, as though there was something interesting there to read. The boy sure was cute, and when he repeated the question, she looked up, relieved. This was easy. As she gave the class a quick and precise summary of what Ms. Henley had asked her, the clock struck 09:45 and the school bell rang.

"All right class, see you on Thursday! Please read chapters three, four and five." The students moaned in protest.

"That was impressive, Emily," Ms. Henley said as Emily was about to leave the classroom. "Keep it up and try to focus more," she added, smiling brightly at her new student.

"I will," Emily replied, blushing once more.

Emily was sitting in the cafeteria with her nose stuck in a book. Just as the main character was about to declare his undying love to the girl of his dreams, a familiar voice interrupted her.

"Hey princess."

It was Morgan, the boy from her English Literature class. Emily frowned. "Don't call me that. I'm not your girlfriend."

"No, but you will be," he teased her, earning himself a stern glare from the brunette.

"Not a fan of jokes? You are a serious girl, Emily Prentiss, and I like it."

Emily could not believe him. Were all the boys at this school this blunt or was it her lucky day? "If you don't mind, I want to finish my book before next period," she said without looking at him.

"Oh, come on. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Believe me, I just want to get to know you. You seem nice, and you're definitely smart."

Emily closed her book and searched for his eyes. They spoke the truth. "Well, what do you want to know, Morgan?"

He laughed. "Morgan is actually my last name. Just call me Derek, everyone does. Well, the people I like do," he said, smiling faintly.

"Okay, Derek," said Emily, smiling back at him. Maybe the Morgan boy wasn't so bad after all…