Soooooo, Edwards has this sword in his closet, and only Edrian can lift it… *Doo-doo-doo-doo, Doo-doo-doo-doo –Elven minstrels strike up the Twilight Zone theme—Doo-doo-doo-doo, Doo-doo-doo-doo*
BTW, the whole thing with the Sword is not meant to be sexist at all, even though it kind of sounds that way. It's just that women would probably have a really hard time handling a sword that was made for a man. That's all. If it offends you, no one is forcing you to read it
LOL. Let's see what happens next… enjoy!
Chapter Four
It certainly didn't take long for word to get around. Instead of Rocky bellows from one jock brotherhood after another, I was now being shadowed by something far more sinister.
Silence.
Just silence. Not admiring silence that let me bask in the warmth of an honor or an accomplishment, nor the peaceful silence of serenity. It was heavy silence, glaring silence, I'm-too-shocked-to-follow-common-courtesy-so-I'll-just-stare silence.
Curious how that thick, crushing lack of sound was so packed with noise. It was entirely too obvious what my peers were thinking: did you hear what Adrian Mortensen did? Yeah, that kid. Adrian, Edrian, whatever! Close enough. That really weird kid who thought the one English teacher was Gandalf. . . No, Dumbledore is the wizard from Harry Potter. Not Gandalf. He's the wizard from Lord of the Rings.
Anyway, Mr. Edwards—the history teacher with the black ponytail and the really stiff eyebrows—he was showing off this antique sword he has, or something like that, and nobody could lift it. Even Mike Charleston dropped it. So Edwards calls this kid Adrian—whatever! Edrian—up to the front. This kid is the hugest geek ever! Yeah, well, Prince Charming could be a real jerk. You never know. Abercrombie and American Eagle pay those guys to model on their shopping bags. Edrian Mortensen is still a geek. The hugest geek ever. And he lifts the sword like no one's business!
Yeah, I liked the sound of the actual silence better.
Everyone knew about what I'd done. It was bad enough walking into history class the next day. At first glance, I could have sworn that every last guy in my class went and got green contacts overnight. Oh, wait—no, never mind, that was the jealousy I was seeing in their eyes. And the girls, well, they had no idea what to think. They just knew that they didn't like me because I'd pissed off their boyfriends so badly.
And then there was Alix Evanston. She sat so demurely in her seat, wearing a Paramore t-shirt, her hair so straight and glossy and a little plastic ring on her thumb to match those blue, blue eyes of hers. She would still rather look at her notes than make eyes at me.
So, even before having to deal with all of that, I felt a bit uncomfortable walking into English class late that morning. Telling Mr. Garrison about my metaphor for a certain Elven—er, human—lady's exquisite eyes would have to wait.
The period passed rather uneventfully. As I made my way to leave, though, the teacher stopped me dead.
Garrison stroked his beard. Though trimmed instead of hanging long like the wizard's did, it still had the same balance of silver and white that—gulp—Gandalf's beard had. "Mr. Mortensen," he boomed for my ears only, "I heard you have displayed a feat of great strength." He seemed amused, even hiding a chuckle in his voice the way Gandalf did.
Great. Now I was paranoid about my teachers' mannerisms, too. God, did I need to get myself together.
I felt myself blush red. Oh, Alix, meleth nîn, I thought, if only I would color this way before your gaze. Maybe then you'd see me and get a clue. "I don't really know how I did it," I murmured. "Handle the sword, I mean. All the other guys who tried it are in the weight room three, four days a week after school."
"There are many kinds of strength, both in mind and body. Perhaps you merely possess the needed strength, and the other young men do not. Were any ladies brave enough to try?"
"Only one. Alix Evanston." I willed myself not to darken as I spoke her lovely name.
"And did she enjoy any success?"
"She, uh—" I ruffled my hand through my hair, trying to play it cool. "She pulled about six inches of blade from the scabbard, but that's all she could manage."
Garrison's bushy silver brows—again, a feature very reminiscent of Gandalf's—rose in surprise. "Six inches…" He whistled low. "That is very impressive, considering Edwards's sword is a man's blade, not at all delicately crafted for the hands of a young woman."
He continued without giving me any chance to chime in. "There is another reason why I need to speak to you, Edrian. I have a student in one of my other classes who has much the same zeal, the same passion as you do. You two share the same drive to learn. He, however, is…" Garrison pondered his phrasing for a moment, nearly tugging at the ends of his beard, as if he wished it longer. "He is struggling to find his way with words. When he voiced his difficulty to me, I automatically thought of you. I thought that perhaps you might be a good student to… well, to tutor him. Could you stay after school, tomorrow perhaps?"
"Uh… sure." Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow, you're only a day away.
I know this chapter is kind of short… it's really just one of those the-not-quite-so-brave-as-Sir-Lancelot 'bridge' sort of parts. The REALLY good chapter is next. Let's see what happens, shall we?
Also: "'Six inches…" He whistled low. "That is very impressive…' " I know what it sounds like, but PLEASE do not take this the wrong way ROTFLOL……
Thanks to all who read and review. I'll try to keep it coming!