I have been inspired! I have produced two new chapters in one day! The
Pringles advert says, once you pop you just can't stop for me, once I
started writing I just could stop myself from writing more. Don't get used
to double updates though!
As always: Keep on reviewing and I'll keep on writing.
Chapter 8: Dickens, Hemmingway and Friends
"After you," said Josh opening the door with an exaggerated gesture for Talia.
"And I thought chivalry was dead," she rolled her eyes and smirked at him as she walked past.
"Yup, that's me," he answered following her into the classroom, "the last knight in shining armour."
"I don't know," she continued as she found a seat in the middle of the classroom and sat down, "I just can't picture you in armour."
"I'm wounded," he said with a mockingly hurt look as he took a seat next to hers, "As a matter of fact, I only wear it on special occasions."
"Such as?" she asked lifting a beautifully formed eyebrow at him.
"When I'm saving damsels in distress," he answered with a straight face.
She laughed at his answer. "Damsels in distress? Yet another endangered species in these modern times."
"I helped you find the right classroom, didn't I?" he counteracted.
She clasped her hands together, fiercely batted her eyelashes at him and said in a breathless, high-pitched voice, "My hero!!"
The nonsensical exchange would've continued if they hadn't been interrupted.
"Hi Josh," said a black man as he approached the two. Another young man followed him. "Who's your friend?"
"AJ, Terry, this is Talia. She's new, just transferred from - "Josh stopped mid sentence feeling slightly silly. "I'm sorry Talia, where have you just transferred from?"
"Err," she said at a loss for words. "From Down Under actually," she finally said settling for a half-truth.
"Australia?" said the young ban whom Josh introduced as Terry. "Wow! I've always wanted to go there! You don't sound Australian, though," he said frowning in puzzlement.
"I'm not, I'm American. My father works Down Under and I was staying with him," she said wishing for the subject to be dropped.
Her prayers were answered when a man in his late twenties walked into the classroom with a crisp, "Good morning class."
The man, obviously a teacher, placed a briefcase onto the desk at the front of the classroom and perched himself on the corner of the desk facing the rest of the class.
"Right, first things first," he said. "The headmaster informs me that we have a new student in our midst. Miss Talia Turner?"
Talia raised her hand to draw his, and unfortunately, the rest of the class' attention.
"Talia, I'm Mr. Collins and I'll be your literature teacher this year," he said pleasantly enough, "Tell us a bit about yourself."
"Well," started Talia thinking that she was on unfamiliar territory and feeling suddenly very alone, " I'm sixteen and I've just moved to San Francisco." That wasn't too bad she thought. "I like listening to music and love reading, which is why I chose this class." She continued deciding that honesty in this case was the best policy.
She heard laughter coming from behind her at this last comment. The teacher, if he had heard it, chose to ignore it and so did she.
"What kind of books do you like reading Talia?" asked Mr. Collins smiling down at her.
"Anything I can get my hands on, sir. Although I confess I'm a bit partial to the classics: Dickens, Hardy, Hemmingway, Dostoyevski, Hugo, Shakespeare," she listed, warming up to her subject.
" Really?" The Literature teacher was surprised; he expected an answer such as "detective stories" or "thrillers" yet his newest student seemed to prefer some of his own favourite writers, whose works were above anything that he'd be teaching in this class.
Talia thought back to the times when she and her father had talked literature for hours. No demon had dared disturbed them as they argued long into the night about the interpretations of some of the greatest works of fiction ever written. Those arguments, more often than not, became heated, as both father and daughter grew more and more passionate in their chosen points of view. She had spent some of her happiest times in the Underword doing just that. She relished the memory. And she missed her father.
"And what are your favourites?" asked Mr. Collins genuinely interested.
She answered with not a single moment's hesitation. "Great Expectations by Dickens, Far from the Madding Crowds by Hardy, The Old Man and the Sea by Hemmingway, Crime and Punishment by Dostoyevski, Les Miserables by Hugo, although -" and here she made a small break in her list, "I think Les Miserables should really be read in it's original French to be truly appreciated. I don't think it translates well enough. And as for Shakespeare, well I love all of his works, but Hamlet, Macbeth and Othello are my favourites."
Talia had to take a breath after her small speech. That's when she realized the blank faces of everyone around her. Had she gone too far? Literature fascinated her and excited her like nothing else she had ever known.
Mr. Collins nearly gasped. The girl's taste was impeccable. He doubted the rest of the class knew even half of the books she mentioned so casually. He caught himself in time. Without looking away from the girl with the twinkling eyes, he gave a dry cough to clear his throat and asked the class to turn to page 21 of their textbooks.
****************
"How was your first day at school, honey?" asked Phoebe anxiously.
"Good thanks, mum" she said, hesitating slightly over the last word. She knew it made Phoebe happy, but it sounded strange to her. She had never called anyone else that before and it would take some getting used to. The word "mother" would've been bad enough, but she had called Cole "father" and the word "mum" had seemed disrespectful, even rude, to her mind. Still, Wyatt called his mother "mum" so it seemed the right thing to do.
"Did you meet anyone interesting? Made any friends?" asked Phoebe full of concern.
"A few people. They seemed nice enough," answered Talia uncomfortably. She didn't mention that of all the people she had met, Judy, Wyatt's girlfriend had been the only girl. Talia had never had a problem attracting men's attention but women were a different matter. She had tried to introduce herself to the girl who had been talking to Josh at break time, but the blond girl in the cheerleader outfit had given her the cold shoulder and then Talia had overheard her telling her friends that Talia was the one who acted all superior and ignored her. It had taken all of Talia's self control not to blast the girl to hell.
"I'm sorry mum, but I've got this really long literature essay to write that needs a lot of research. I'd like to start on it right now if you don't mind."
"Oh," said Phoebe a little disappointed, making Talia feel guilty for lying, "yeah sure sweetie. Go right ahead."
"Thanks mum,' she said and raced up the stairs to the room that had been Grams' until Talia moved in a week ago.
**************
Talia closed the door behind her and leaned into it breathing a sigh of relief. All day she had smiled, been polite and so damn nice that it actually hurt! And she had been doing that all week! She knew her mother and the rest of her family had nothing but good intentions, but she was just not used to all the little chats, the hugs and all the friendliness. She had been extra good all day today, even when that bitch Jessica had bad- mouthed her behind her back. She'd had enough! It was time to have some fun, she decided.
With a twinkle in her eyes and a mischievous grin on her face, she moved to the closet. A week ago she had arrived to the manor with only a rucksack of the bare necessities, but that same day later, one of her father's servants had appeared carrying a white flag, and the rest of her possessions. She took out her black leather trousers and a black low cut top. She dressed carefully and applied her make up meticulously. When she was done she grabbed her leather jacket and with a last look at her surroundings, she flamed out.
As always: Keep on reviewing and I'll keep on writing.
Chapter 8: Dickens, Hemmingway and Friends
"After you," said Josh opening the door with an exaggerated gesture for Talia.
"And I thought chivalry was dead," she rolled her eyes and smirked at him as she walked past.
"Yup, that's me," he answered following her into the classroom, "the last knight in shining armour."
"I don't know," she continued as she found a seat in the middle of the classroom and sat down, "I just can't picture you in armour."
"I'm wounded," he said with a mockingly hurt look as he took a seat next to hers, "As a matter of fact, I only wear it on special occasions."
"Such as?" she asked lifting a beautifully formed eyebrow at him.
"When I'm saving damsels in distress," he answered with a straight face.
She laughed at his answer. "Damsels in distress? Yet another endangered species in these modern times."
"I helped you find the right classroom, didn't I?" he counteracted.
She clasped her hands together, fiercely batted her eyelashes at him and said in a breathless, high-pitched voice, "My hero!!"
The nonsensical exchange would've continued if they hadn't been interrupted.
"Hi Josh," said a black man as he approached the two. Another young man followed him. "Who's your friend?"
"AJ, Terry, this is Talia. She's new, just transferred from - "Josh stopped mid sentence feeling slightly silly. "I'm sorry Talia, where have you just transferred from?"
"Err," she said at a loss for words. "From Down Under actually," she finally said settling for a half-truth.
"Australia?" said the young ban whom Josh introduced as Terry. "Wow! I've always wanted to go there! You don't sound Australian, though," he said frowning in puzzlement.
"I'm not, I'm American. My father works Down Under and I was staying with him," she said wishing for the subject to be dropped.
Her prayers were answered when a man in his late twenties walked into the classroom with a crisp, "Good morning class."
The man, obviously a teacher, placed a briefcase onto the desk at the front of the classroom and perched himself on the corner of the desk facing the rest of the class.
"Right, first things first," he said. "The headmaster informs me that we have a new student in our midst. Miss Talia Turner?"
Talia raised her hand to draw his, and unfortunately, the rest of the class' attention.
"Talia, I'm Mr. Collins and I'll be your literature teacher this year," he said pleasantly enough, "Tell us a bit about yourself."
"Well," started Talia thinking that she was on unfamiliar territory and feeling suddenly very alone, " I'm sixteen and I've just moved to San Francisco." That wasn't too bad she thought. "I like listening to music and love reading, which is why I chose this class." She continued deciding that honesty in this case was the best policy.
She heard laughter coming from behind her at this last comment. The teacher, if he had heard it, chose to ignore it and so did she.
"What kind of books do you like reading Talia?" asked Mr. Collins smiling down at her.
"Anything I can get my hands on, sir. Although I confess I'm a bit partial to the classics: Dickens, Hardy, Hemmingway, Dostoyevski, Hugo, Shakespeare," she listed, warming up to her subject.
" Really?" The Literature teacher was surprised; he expected an answer such as "detective stories" or "thrillers" yet his newest student seemed to prefer some of his own favourite writers, whose works were above anything that he'd be teaching in this class.
Talia thought back to the times when she and her father had talked literature for hours. No demon had dared disturbed them as they argued long into the night about the interpretations of some of the greatest works of fiction ever written. Those arguments, more often than not, became heated, as both father and daughter grew more and more passionate in their chosen points of view. She had spent some of her happiest times in the Underword doing just that. She relished the memory. And she missed her father.
"And what are your favourites?" asked Mr. Collins genuinely interested.
She answered with not a single moment's hesitation. "Great Expectations by Dickens, Far from the Madding Crowds by Hardy, The Old Man and the Sea by Hemmingway, Crime and Punishment by Dostoyevski, Les Miserables by Hugo, although -" and here she made a small break in her list, "I think Les Miserables should really be read in it's original French to be truly appreciated. I don't think it translates well enough. And as for Shakespeare, well I love all of his works, but Hamlet, Macbeth and Othello are my favourites."
Talia had to take a breath after her small speech. That's when she realized the blank faces of everyone around her. Had she gone too far? Literature fascinated her and excited her like nothing else she had ever known.
Mr. Collins nearly gasped. The girl's taste was impeccable. He doubted the rest of the class knew even half of the books she mentioned so casually. He caught himself in time. Without looking away from the girl with the twinkling eyes, he gave a dry cough to clear his throat and asked the class to turn to page 21 of their textbooks.
****************
"How was your first day at school, honey?" asked Phoebe anxiously.
"Good thanks, mum" she said, hesitating slightly over the last word. She knew it made Phoebe happy, but it sounded strange to her. She had never called anyone else that before and it would take some getting used to. The word "mother" would've been bad enough, but she had called Cole "father" and the word "mum" had seemed disrespectful, even rude, to her mind. Still, Wyatt called his mother "mum" so it seemed the right thing to do.
"Did you meet anyone interesting? Made any friends?" asked Phoebe full of concern.
"A few people. They seemed nice enough," answered Talia uncomfortably. She didn't mention that of all the people she had met, Judy, Wyatt's girlfriend had been the only girl. Talia had never had a problem attracting men's attention but women were a different matter. She had tried to introduce herself to the girl who had been talking to Josh at break time, but the blond girl in the cheerleader outfit had given her the cold shoulder and then Talia had overheard her telling her friends that Talia was the one who acted all superior and ignored her. It had taken all of Talia's self control not to blast the girl to hell.
"I'm sorry mum, but I've got this really long literature essay to write that needs a lot of research. I'd like to start on it right now if you don't mind."
"Oh," said Phoebe a little disappointed, making Talia feel guilty for lying, "yeah sure sweetie. Go right ahead."
"Thanks mum,' she said and raced up the stairs to the room that had been Grams' until Talia moved in a week ago.
**************
Talia closed the door behind her and leaned into it breathing a sigh of relief. All day she had smiled, been polite and so damn nice that it actually hurt! And she had been doing that all week! She knew her mother and the rest of her family had nothing but good intentions, but she was just not used to all the little chats, the hugs and all the friendliness. She had been extra good all day today, even when that bitch Jessica had bad- mouthed her behind her back. She'd had enough! It was time to have some fun, she decided.
With a twinkle in her eyes and a mischievous grin on her face, she moved to the closet. A week ago she had arrived to the manor with only a rucksack of the bare necessities, but that same day later, one of her father's servants had appeared carrying a white flag, and the rest of her possessions. She took out her black leather trousers and a black low cut top. She dressed carefully and applied her make up meticulously. When she was done she grabbed her leather jacket and with a last look at her surroundings, she flamed out.