Chapter 6: The Small Southern World

"Are you sure that you don't want to take the car?" Severus asked anxiously, hovering in Isabelle's doorway. She picked up her knapsack and rolled her eyes.

"The school's only three blocks away. I think I can handle it. Wish me luck," she said cheerfully, checking her watch and flying out of the door. If she didn't hustle, she'd be late for her very first day of Muggle high school.

Humming, she clamored down the rusty metal staircase and onto the soft dirt below. An arguing couple caught her eye about twenty feet to her right. The young woman appeared extremely upset, so Isabelle rushed over to her defense. She'd been the victim one too many times to walk away from someone else being hurt.

"Excuse me, is everything all right here?" Isabelle asked in her most authoritative voice, standing up to her full height.

She was nearly nose-to-nose with the young man, who also stood up straight and tall. Isabelle nearly gasped aloud when he looked her in the eyes to stare her down. The sheer attitude reflected in his expression reminded her so much of Sirius that it was uncanny. No, he wasn't Sirius' carbon copy, but his coloring and build were similar enough to make him appear incredibly desirable to her.

Too bad he's obviously a jerk, Isabelle thought regretfully.

"Yes," the young woman replied. "Jake was just leaving."

The man clenched his fists and fought to maintain his composure. "Sarah Lindsay, why won't you listen to me? I'm not the enemy here."

"No, but you're certainly a stranger. You can't just float into my life when it's convenient for you. And, I really don't appreciate you moving into my building to spy on me. Take the hint – I don't want or need you in my life. So do us all a favor. Pack up your bags and move back to your mansion on the river," she seethed.

"All right, I'll leave you alone. For now," Jake replied calmly, taking a step back. "But, you're not going to run me off like you've done before. Not until I've spoken my piece."

"Is that a threat?" Sarah Lindsay roared. For a tiny girl, barely over five feet tall, she appeared quite imposing.

"No. It's a promise." With that, the dark-haired man stormed off, disappearing up the staircase.

"Thanks," the petite teenager said gratefully, clutching her books to her chest. Isabelle noticed that one of them read English 11, and another said Pre-Calculus in large, fancy scripted letters.

"You're welcome," Isabelle replied, shifting her bookbag to readjust the weight. "Say, do you go to Jamestown High School? I'm not trying to be all psycho weird or anything, but today's my first day of school, and--"

"You're not from around here, are you?" came her amused drawl.

Isabelle shook her head no. "I could tell by the accent. We don't exactly get pretty English accents in these parts. Sarah Lindsay, by the way."

"Isabelle Randolph." She smiled down at the other girl as they began walking in the direction of the school. "I know it's not my business, but is that your boyfriend?"

Sarah Lindsay sighed. "Worse. My brother."

"Oh?" She tried not to sound too interested, cursing herself for being interested. For all she knew, Jake could be some insane serial killer or something, like Ted Bundy.

"Yeah. Long story." Her face darkened for a moment, and then brightened up again. "Anyway, what grade are you in?"

"Eleventh. Same grade as last year," Isabelle laughed.

"Did you fail?" Sarah Lindsay asked, rifling through her history book for her schedule.

"No. I dropped out for a year and decided to come back." There, she thought. That sounds nice and ambiguous. The other girl looked at her admiringly.

"Wow. That's really impressive. What's your schedule?"

Isabelle pulled a small piece of paper out of her pocket. "English 11, U.S. History, 9th Grade P.E., Chemistry II, Pre-Calculus, Home Economics, and Keyboarding."

"Can I see?" Sarah Lindsay quickly compared the two schedules. "We have four classes together. Very cool. I took Home Ec and Keyboarding last year, and ninth grade P.E., well, in ninth grade. Why do you have that class?"

"Apparently I need two physical education credits to graduate. My other school didn't have a P.E. requirement, so I'm stuck taking it for the next two years. I asked if my dance classes would count, but the principal said no," she explained.

"Oooooh, gotcha. So, you're a dancer? How long have you taken lessons?"

Isabelle nodded. "Since I was eight, so nine years."

Sarah Lindsay looked at her excitedly. "Have you ever considered being a cheerleader? Because we're a person short, and a dancer would be great."

"Cheerleading? As in wearing the short skirts and screeching?"

"That's a stereotype," Sarah Lindsay frowned. "I'm the captain this year, and I'm going to turn the squad around into real athletes, not just pretty faces. I read in a magazine over the summer that some colleges give scholarships to cheerleaders. I might could go to college on my grades, but I don't want to put all my eggs in one basket, ya know? Just think about it. That's all I ask."

The girls reached the school entryway. Isabelle gulped nervously as she walked inside. Sarah Lindsay pulled her into a large classroom, and they took the last two seats in the back right as the tardy bell rang.

Welcome to English 11, Isabelle thought, taking out her book. Whatever that entails.

-----

Gulping, Brittany Spence triple-checked her schedule and walked into Classroom 24, for Chemistry II. Her eyes frantically darted around, looking for an open space somewhere in a corner, so that hopefully she could remain invisible. So far, she'd managed to succeed in her goal, and was quite happy about it.

Unfortunately, the only available space was at a lab table populated by two girls who looked like models – the innately beautiful, effortlessly popular type of girl who delighted in torturing her at her last school. Brittany slunk around the room, quietly sat down, and buried her nose in her Chemistry textbook. Luckily, the other girls didn't notice her arrival, and continued their spirited discussion.

"Say it again, Isabelle," one of the girls begged. The other girl sighed heavily, as everyone within earshot leaned in to hear.

"Fine," the girl huffed in an English accent. "Bugger off, Sarah Lindsay."

The petite blonde girl burst into hysterical laughter, and snorted in a most un-ladylike fashion, which only made her laugh harder. Brittany examined her over the top of her textbook. For an obviously redneck townie girl, this Sarah Lindsay had an ethereal, mysterious beauty. In fact, she strongly favored Catherine Deneuve, Brittany's favorite actress. She sighed wistfully and returned to her book. No use wishing to be beautiful or popular – two things perpetually out of her reach, and dreaming about either is futile. At least, that's what Brittany told herself.

"So, how's your first day?" Sarah Lindsay asked, still giggling. Isabelle couldn't help joining in; after all, she found her classmates' accent hilarious.

"Not too bad," she said, holding up a bandaged index finger. "I burned my finger in Home Ec, and spent the last part of the period in the school nurses' office. Which made Keyboarding last period incredibly unpleasant."

"That had to suck," Sarah Lindsay sympathized.

"No kidding. And guess what I have to look forward to as my last class of the day?" Isabelle wrinkled her nose.

"Lemme guess. Ninth grade P.E."

"Unfortunately."

"Good afternoon, class," a brisk voice called out from the front of the classroom. She waited for all of the chattering to die down before continuing. "Welcome to Chemistry II. Most of y'all had me for Chem I, but for the new students, I'm Mrs. Arehart."

The tall, hook-nosed teacher began walking around the room, passing out a thick packet of papers to each student. "This is a review of all the concepts y'all need to know before we begin the Chem II curriculum. I hope y'all like the other people sitting at your table, because they will be in your lab group for the rest of the school year. Most of the groups have four members, except for one group in the corner, I see. Sorry about that. Anyway, work through this packet with your group, and I expect for it to be completed by the end of the week."

Brittany began to panic. She had to actually interact with these bubbly, cheerful-looking girls? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tall blonde girl flip through the packet, snort, and carelessly toss it on the table. Brittany suppressed a sigh. She figured that these girls would make her do the work and then copy her papers at the last minute, just like when she was at Spotswood.

"This sucks," she heard Sarah Lindsay grumble. "And we have one less person to divide the work with."

"That's ok. Three's a lucky number," Isabelle replied, picking up a pencil. "Excuse me?"

"Yes?" Brittany squeaked out, sounding remarkably like a mouse.

Both girls smiled at each other, and turned to face her. Oh, no, she thought. This is a nightmare. Isabelle smiled reassuringly at the mousy-haired brunette.

"Hi, I'm Isabelle. Are you new here, too?" She grinned her thousand-watt smile, which put Brittany at ease somewhat. Plus, the English accent was really charming.

"Yeah. I transferred in from another school," Brittany said noncommittally. As if these other girls had ever heard of Spotswood Academy, anyway.

"Me, too," Isabelle replied.

She immediately took a liking to the shy girl, and raised a questioning eyebrow at Sarah Lindsay, who smiled. It only took half a day for Isabelle to figure out how this school worked. By luck, she managed to befriend the most popular girl at Jamestown High, which automatically made Isabelle popular as well. The petite brunette looked desperately in need to friends, and if Sarah Lindsay Parker were friendly to her, she'd do all right at this school. Or at least wouldn't be a total social reject.

"Jeez, am I the only townie here?" Sarah Lindsay joked, making a face at Isabelle. "I feel like the Jamestown High Welcome Wagon or something."

Isabelle made a face back. "Hey, I rescued you. It's the least you can do in return for my bodyguard services. Hey, I forgot to ask what your name is."

"Brittany Spence. And I'm a townie, too. I used to go a private school," she said very quietly. Her eyes darted around nervously as Isabelle paled. She looked at the petite blonde. "What's your name?"

"Sarah Lindsay Parker," she replied, tapping her pen on the lab table.

"No way," Brittany whistled through her teeth.

She pushed her glasses up and closely examined Sarah Lindsay. Sure enough, she had the same eyes as Jake, and a very similar facial structure. Brittany sighed dreamily, thinking of Jake's beautiful eyes. A small smile crossed her face, which struck Sarah Lindsay the wrong way.

"What?" she snapped. Brittany looked at her nervously.

"I know your brother."

Isabelle glanced up from the packet, which she was working through for fun. "Wait a minute here. I'm really confused."

"So am I." Sarah Lindsay crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you mean, you know my brother? If you do know him, you're not exactly the type to go to a lowly Mug—normal school."

Brittany leaned forward. "I'll tell you later, ok? I don't want to weird out Isabelle."

"Nothing weirds me out," she replied from the depths of the packet, deciding to move this conversation along. Against her better judgment, she used her Discerner skills briefly to figure out the situation. "I assume that all of us are of the wand-carrying sort, so please continue."

"Not me. People from my part of town aren't exactly welcome at Spotswood, are they Brittany?" Sarah Lindsay seethed. "Dirty little secrets like me are left to make their own way in the world."

"It's not like that." Brittany frowned.

"I'll tell you what it's not--"

"Sarah Lindsay, calm down," Isabelle interrupted, giving her a Look. "Brittany has nothing to do with whatever issues you have with your family, so don't take it out on her."

"You're right. I'm sorry," she apologized. "Hey, how do you know about wiz—wiza—our type of people anyway?"

Isabelle crossed her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. "Because I'm one of you. Duh."

"Oh, yeah. Blonde moment." Sarah Lindsay laughed at herself.

"Hey! That's a stereotype, thank you very much," Isabelle huffed jokingly, making fun of the other girl's indignation at her cheerleading comment from that morning. "Well, maybe not. Everyone knows that cheerleaders are bloody daft."

Instead of becoming angry, Sarah Lindsay nearly fell off her lab stool with laughter. "Bloody daft!"

Isabelle looked at Brittany half-amusedly, half-exasperated. "She finds my dialect humorous. Whenever I say something 'English', she laughs for at least ten minutes. Anyway, how do you know her brother?"

"I grew up with him," Brittany replied, pushing up her glasses as she often did when jittery. "Well, sort of. He's my brother Thomas' age. They met in preschool and have been inseparable ever since."

And I've been hopelessly in love with Jake since I can remember, she thought sadly. Too bad he barely knows that I'm alive.

"Thomas Spence. I don't recognize the name. I did go to school with a Phillip Spence. Are you related to him?" Sarah Lindsay mused. Isabelle felt like she was going to be violently ill at the mere mention of his name.

"Yeah, he's my oldest brother. Phillip, Thomas and then me."

Oh, no. I shagged your brother! Isabelle thought, feeling incredibly woozy.

She looked at Brittany guiltily, wondering how someone so thoughtless and deceitful could have such a nice sister. At that moment, the bell rang, and all three girls jumped.

"Crap! Our assignment!" Sarah Lindsay exclaimed.

Isabelle waved her hand dismissively. "We'll get it done. Right now I have more pressing issues on my mind, like how I'm going to survive ninth grade P.E."

"You have that next, too?" Brittany looked as if she was drowning and someone just threw her a life raft. Sarah Lindsay's face lit up.

"I have the best idea!" she exclaimed. "See y'all later."

The petite blonde scooped up her books and ran out of the classroom. The other girls looked at each other and shrugged.

"Do you know where the locker rooms are?" Isabelle asked sheepishly. Brittany nodded, adjusting her bookbag on her shoulders.

"Phillip gave me a tour of the school last week. See, my brother's a," she dropped her voice so that other people in the crowded hallway couldn't hear her, "wizard, but he's also a great soccer player. Better than great."

Her face shone with sisterly pride. "He dropped out of Spotswood to come here so that he could play soccer. Do you like soccer? I guess y'all call it football. Do you even know about the sport? Some of our kind only cares about Quiddich."

"Oh, I love Quiddich." Isabelle's face mirrored Brittany's look of sisterly pride as she thought about James. "But, I do like football. Although I don't care for footballers much."

Brittany raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment as they walked in the locker room and dressed out for P.E. The last thing she wanted to do is lose a potential friendship. She'd never had an actual girlfriend before.

Maybe Phillip was right, she thought while lacing up her tennis shoes. He said that transferring schools was the best thing that he ever did, and that I'd enjoy Jamestown High. We'll see, huh?

-----

Smiling, Brittany walked out of the school's front entrance. She had never felt so happy in an academic environment in her life. Although the subjects were different, and in some cases, more challenging, than what she had taken before, she even enjoyed the class load. However, her carefree grin drooped when she saw a tall, blonde figure leaning against the school building.

"Wassup, little sis?" Thomas Spence descended on Brittany. She scowled as he adopted his most charming smile, the one he used on her only when he wanted something. "How was your first day at your new school?"

"Fine," she replied neutrally, trying to escape from his clutches before she became an unwilling pawn in one of his overly elaborate, dangerous pranks.

"I need your help," he said, getting to the point awfully quickly, Brittany thought. This was going to be bad, bad, bad.

"Well, I knew that. What do you need?"

Thomas gestured wildly, causing his sister to roll her eyes. His cute dramatic act stopped working on her when she was about five. "I need some professional assistance. Since you're studying to be a witch doctor and all."

"I'm not going to be a witch doctor!" She exploded, shoving her brother roughly. "It's called a medi-witch, or a nurse practitioner. Use one of those two terms only, you prat."

"Prat? What the hell?" he puzzled.

Brittany shook her head as if to clear it out. "Sorry. There's this new girl from England or somewhere over there, and I think her slang is rubbing off on me."

"A new girl from England?" Thomas clutched his hands over his heart, and stumbled a bit. His baby blue eyes twinkles mischievously. "Don't tell Phillip, especially if she's blonde."

"Actually, she's a tall blonde girl from England with green eyes named Isabelle. And I think that she lives in your building."

"You're shitting me."

"I shit you not. Why?"

Thomas' face became very serious, almost grim. "That's what I came about. Phillip locked himself in his room the other day and won't come out. Something about the Evans girl. I really think he's lost it this time, Brit. You're the only one he really listens to, so I was hoping that--"

"That I'd Phillip-sit. Count me out." She turned to walk home.

"Please, Brit?" His face pleaded with her until Brittany sighed and gave in.

"Fine. But, there's no way that we're going to tell Phillip about this new Isabelle girl. She's really nice, and I don't want my dear brother to scare her off with all these accusations and stuff."

"Is she hot?" Thomas asked, grinning again.

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Yes, actually she looks like a supermodel. Tall, blonde, great tan, gorgeous. Every guy in the classes we had together was trying to get her phone number. Between her and Sarah Lindsay, I felt completely invisible."

"Did my ears deceive me? As in Jake's long-lost sister?" He groaned loudly. "Of all the people to befriend in the whole school, you find the missing Parker. Let's keep this one between us, too. I swear, between Jake and Phillip, I feel like I live in an insane asylum."

"Yeah, you're so normal."

A few minutes later, Brittany sighed heavily as Thomas opened the door to the shared apartment. As usual, it looked like a federal disaster area. She navigated through the living room, down the hallway, and loudly knocked on Phillip's door.

"Leave me to die," came a muffled voice.

"Told you," Thomas whispered. "I wish that the Sullivan wench hadn't twisted his arm until he went to England with her."

"You and me both," Brittany agreed, unlocking the door. "Phillip, I'm coming in, so you better be decent."

It took a full minute for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. The room was lit by one narrow beam of light that seeped around the bottom of his tightly drawn blinds. She closed the door behind her and sat Indian-style on a corner of his bed. Phillip emerged from underneath a blanket. Brittany fought the urge to laugh at the way his blonde curls stuck out every which way, like an Afro.

"I told you to leave me to die," he grumbled, disappearing under the blanket again. "How was school?"

"Way better than Spotswood ever was," she admitted.

"That's good," he mumbled. Brittany stood up, picked up a corner of the blanket, and yanked it with all her might.

"Get up, Sleeping Beauty."

Phillip sat up indignantly. "Give me back my blanket."

"Who are you, Linus?" she teased. "What's wrong with you, anyway? Come on, you can tell me anything. And if you talk, I'll give your almighty blanket back to you, wussy boy."

"Fine. It's complicated."

"Which means that it involves Vampira. Go on. What does Nikki have to do with this?"

"Ok, you know the last party that we threw?" He paused as Brittany nodded. "Well, there was this girl there, and she was gone in the morning."

"So? I'm sure lots of girls were here, and left before the morning."

Phillip turned so red that he glowed in the dark. "This girl and I, we uh…hooked up. Nothing like thinking you're going to wake up to one person, and you're stuck looking at Nikki instead."

"A familiar view, I'm sure," Brittany said snidely, smacking her brother upside the head with a pillow. "Why can't you keep it in your pants? That would eliminate a great number of your problems, like Vampira."

"Thank you, Morality Police. I wish that I had never gotten within five feet of Nikki, ok? She doesn't understand the concept of over. It's been over since--"

"Since the night the girl you met in England died. Phillip, I'm glad that you're over Vampira, but you really need to put this Isabelle Evans obsession behind you. And I really don't get why you hooked up with some random chick. That is so not like you." She frowned disapprovingly.

"Just leave me to my misery."

"Is that what's bothering you? That you had a one-night stand? Honestly, they happen all the time. As long as you were careful, it'll be all right."

Phillip pulled the blanket over his head. "No, it won't. Nikki chased her off, and I'll never see her again. Let's just drop it, ok? Tell me more about your day."

Although she really didn't want to drop the subject, she respected her brother's feelings. However, Brittany planned to bring it back up later.

-----

Shielding her eyes with her hand, Isabelle walked into the gym and searched for her P.E. class. After a grueling day of classes that included nearly falling asleep in Keyboarding and working her tail off to finish the Chemistry II packet, she was actually looking forward to working out. She waited for Brittany to walk out of the locker room, and they crossed the gym together. A large group of freshman whistled as they walked past them. Both girls gave them a dirty look.

"Co-ed P.E. should be illegal," Isabelle mumbled underneath her breath.

"Totally," Brittany agreed, sighing.

She looked sideways at her friend, and debated on whether or not to ask about a William and Mary soccer t-shirt that she spied at the bottom of Isabelle's gym bag. It wouldn't be a big deal, except that it looked like Phillip's shirt. Brittany rolled her eyes at herself. They lived in Williamsburg, for crying out loud! Lots of people have William and Mary shirts.

But not everyone's t-shirt has grass stains on it, she mused. And I know that Isabelle doesn't play soccer. I asked. What if Phillip's not crazy?

Nah, he's nutty as a three-dollar bill, Brittany snorted. And I'm almost as bad as he is these days. I really need to stop Phillip-sitting. He's filled my brain with one too many conspiracy theories.

"Isabelle?" Brittany asked nervously.

"Um-hum?" she replied, stretching out, much to the delight of all the males.

The leggy blonde bent over to touch her toes, which even got the attention of passers-by in the hallway. Oblivious, she straightened up and decided to try a forward split for mental amusement. She grinned up at Brittany from the floor.

"What's up?" She brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, still in the split, looking perfectly comfortable.

"What on earth is Sarah Lindsay doing in here?" Brittany wondered, changing subjects in her mind.

"Good question." Isabelle narrowed her eyes suspiciously as Sarah Lindsay bounded up to them with about a dozen girls in tow.

"Hello," she said cheerfully. "Miss me?"

"Terribly. What's up?" Isabelle asked, suddenly getting a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Well, you said that you couldn't join the squad because of the time commitment, right?" Sarah Lindsay grinned evilly as she nodded slowly. "I asked Coach Jones yesterday if the squad could enroll in Advanced P.E. during this period and use the time to practice. Not only did he say yes, he said that you could skip out of freshman P.E. and practice with us. That way, practice will end at four o'clock instead of five. What do you think?"

Isabelle frowned. "Only if Brittany can hang out with the squad, too. I'm not abandoning her to the freshmen."

"Fair enough." She shrugged and turned to the other girls. "Ladies, I'd like to introduce y'all to the fourteenth member of our squad, the lovely and talented Isabelle. And this is Brittany Spence. She'll be practicing with us, too."

"Uh, I am?" Brittany's eyes flew open. Since when did she become involved in this?

"A fifteen member squad? One, I've never heard of such a thing. And two, neither of these girls tried out. We have a huge waiting list and a J.V. squad to pull more cheerleaders from if we need them," a voice from the back of the small crowd snapped.

Sarah Lindsay's hands flew to her hips. "One, I am the captain of this squad. Secondly, who says that we have to be a cookie cutter cheerleading squad? I think we can do some great stunts with fifteen members. And third, Isabelle happens to be a professional-quality dancer. Fourth, Brittany's a gymnast. Do I need to go on?"

"No," the squad chorused.

"You're a gymnast?" Isabelle hissed to Brittany.

"Unfortunately. How did we become Jamestown High varsity cheerleaders?" the brunette whispered back. Just wait until Thomas hears about this one, she thought ruefully. He'll never let me live it down.

"I have no clue." Severus and Stacey will never let me live this down, Isabelle groaned internally, following everyone else outside for practice. Welcome to America.

After a round of introductions, Sarah Lindsay began a grueling practice session. Isabelle had no idea cheerleading was so athletic. By the time the two-hour practice ended, she was tired and sore. And desperately wished that she hadn't gotten roped into this. Quiddich was one thing, but jumping and dancing around a football field wearing a mini-skirt was plain embarrassing.

"Hey, Brittany," a girl called out, pronouncing her name "Britney". Actually, when Isabelle thought about it, most people did say her name that way. How odd, she thought. She turned her eyes to the girl – Morgan, maybe? "Are you related to Phillip Spence?"

"Yeah, he's my oldest brother," Brittany shrugged. The other girls gasped in unison and swarmed around her.

"No way," a tall redhead breathed.

Isabelle tossed her ponytail behind her shoulders and huffed disapprovingly. "What's the big deal about him, anyway?"

"You poor dear." Morgan shook her head sadly. "We need to educate you. Phillip Spence graduated from this school a couple of years ago, and he's still a legend. A god among men. Welcome, sister of the god."

"You're being way overdramatic, Morgan." Sarah Lindsay rolled her eyes.

"Morgaine. It's Morgaine." The tiny, dark-haired girl scowled.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Morgaine of the Fairies." Sarah Lindsay turned to Isabelle and Brittany. "Ever since Fairy Woman over there read The Mists of Avalon, she's turned Wiccan fanatic and wants to be called Morgaine instead of Morgan. Yesterday, she said that she's going to become a priestess of the Goddess."

"Don't mock the Goddess," Morgaine warned.

Isabelle raised a skeptical eyebrow. This girl was clearly off her nut. Well, she'd have to be to consider Phillip Spence a god among men, she snickered.

Although, it seemed like the other girls shared Morgaine's opinion, by the way their treatment of Brittany instantly improved. They flitted around her, asking questions about her family. Isabelle stiffly made her goodbyes and rushed home. If she heard one more dreamy sigh or giggly comment about Phillip, she honestly thought that she'd scream.