Two
Shade walked into class and dropped down next to her friend Misprint, slamming her books down on the table top.
"Three days." She said, her New York accent still apparent, despite the ten years of training in school. "Three days since we were free." Misprint nodded and stretched, her black hair glinting in the late summer sunlight as it poured in the open windows.
"Winter break can't come soon enough." She replied, in the same accent. She resumed twirling her pen between her two fingers, as though it was some kind of important task she couldn't quit. Shade turned sideways in her seat to talk to her, but was interrupted by their teacher, Mrs. Orrello, a bleach blonde woman with sharply plucked eyebrows and watery blue eyes.
"Quiet. Please, everyone. Quiet." She said. That was always how she began the lesson. Resigned, Misprint and Shade both turned to her, Misprints fingers still not idle on her pen. They had been together at boarding school since they were in grade one, and had made it ten years, to this very day. They had every teacher's traits memorised to a fault. "Today we…class! Quiet, please everyone. Everybody, be quiet!" She cleared her throat ominously, and every one finally had the grace to stop whispering. "Thank you." She said, exaggerating the "thank" to make it seem like she had been waiting a decade. "Now. Today we are taking a closer look at the Great Depression and…"
The door burst open suddenly and a boy of seventeen appeared, with dirty blonde hair slicked back from his forehead, a grey shirt, and black, baggy jeans. A small white necklace was around his neck. He had a back pack slung casually over his shoulder.
"Sorry." He said, pausing at the door frame. "This Social Studies?"
"Yes. It is." The teacher said, blinking five times, very fast. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah…I'm Kelly, Jack Kelly. Transferred. They told me to come here."
"Oh…well…" This put Mrs. Orrello off slightly, as though any interruption threw the whole block plan off. "Ah…yes…take a seat…" She pointed vaguely to a desk near the corner. "But I don't understand…no warning… Why didn't you stay at your other school?"
"Kicked out." He said, fastening her with a clear gaze. She blinked again, then took a deep, hissing breath.
"I see…Well. Class, this is…"
"Jack Kelly." Misprint and Shade said along with her. Then they both smirked. She gave them a look that was meant to cut them both dead, and continued.
"I hope you treat him with the same respect due to any of your friends." This statement was going largely unheeded. A few boys were twisting around in their seats and leering at him. He was meeting them with a steady look. Mrs. Orrello looked over at him again, and her face wrinkled in a slight form of strain.
"I'm afraid that is not standard uniform, Mr. Kelly…I suggest you tell the office as soon as possible so they may fit you with the proper attire…" Shade shut her ears. This was too boring. Instead, she turned around in her seat, and let her eyes rest on the new boy. Jack. He was toying with his pen, almost the same way Misprint was, but looser, more careless. He was slouching in his seat, his eyes still at the front, but bored. He glanced over at her, and furrowed his eyebrows. Not wanting him to think she was like the other guys, she gave him a quick smirk, then turned back to her book. Misprint, unknowing of Shades silent, visual investigation, was desperately flipping through the book, trying to find her notes on the great depression.
It seemed the class stretched on forever. Shade wanted to press her face against her notes and fall asleep, but she realised that ink stains across her face might not be all that admirable. She chewed on the back of her pen, letting her eyes blur as she watched Mrs. Orrello write notes on the board, the woman's hand moving faster than a jet plane streaking across the sky, leaving curls of white dust against the dark green.
Shade glanced over at the new boy, and was surprised and somewhat contrite to see him writing, his eyes flicking up to the board now and then, and then back to his paper. So he was paying attention. Unlike her. Well, it gave her time to study him in more depth. His eyes, once you looked close enough, weren't completely grey, they had slight flecks of hazel in them, and his tinted blonde hair looked like it had used half the gel bottle to stay in place. But a couple strands hung down from his forehead. She raised her eyebrows in appraisal. He was kind of cute. She wouldn't mind getting to know him better.
As though he could sense her gaze, he looked up, those smoky eyes catching her. She quickly looked down at her paper again and tried to feign concentration, but she was completely lost. She hadn't been taking notes for the last stretch of the class, and in consternation, glanced over at Misprint's paper, noticing she had been diligently copying the words on the board. Was she the only one off today?
Her peripheral vision told her that he was still watching her, but whether it was in enrapture or annoyance, she had no clue. She risked a glance at him, and saw it was with the clear, burning look he had all class. As though a grey candle flamed behind his irises. She chanced a small smile, and was gratified when she saw his lips quirk slightly.
'And the entire plot is revealed.' She thought. That was what Misprint had said when they were watching one of those old corny movies, where the man is introduced to the beautiful woman, and they both exchange a look that can only mean one thing. Wedding bells.
"Alyson Mayer!" She tore her gaze away from his face and looked up in trepidation and slight scorn. "What are you staring at?" This time emphasis on the "are", which meant "it better not be what I think it is." Mrs. Orrello had seen the way the girls were smiling silkily at the new boy.
"Jus' day dreamin', Mizz O." She smiled foolishly, purposely darkening the curves of her accent. Mrs. Orrello had detested the fact that both she and Misprint had never been able to get rid of that "horrid gutter accent."
"Mrs. Orrello." She corrected automatically. Her puddle-like eyes were narrowed in menace. "Then perhaps, since we are done dreaming, we can pay attention?"
"Yes Mizz O." She replied amiably. Misprint nudged her. Shade glanced over and could read her friends expression immediately. 'You're pushing it.'
"Now, back to the job cuts…" She said, gazing suspiciously at Shade for another moment, before turning and scrawling more on the board again. Misprint and Shade exchanged a look, before returning to their respective tasks.
Shade turned around to see Jack again, who was now smirking at her, as though her insolence had amused him. She smiled again, and rolled her eyes at Mrs. Orrello. They had a connection, even though he was sitting across the room. She could feel it. Until it was severed by Misprint's pencil jabbing against her side.
"Ow!" She squealed quietly. Not quiet enough. Mrs. Orrello whirled around, but only saw a rather flustered looking Shade scrawling tiny sentences in her notebook. It was lucky she wasn't close enough to see, or she would have noticed that they were random letters made too look like words. Misprint made a period at the end of her sentence, and looked up again, her innocent blue eyes questioning why Mrs. Orrello had stopped. Feeling the mistrust in her, the teacher turned and began writing again.
"What was that for?" Shade wrote. Misprint glanced up at Mrs. Orrello, before leaning over and replying.
"Write now. Flirt later." Shade didn't deny the fact. Misprint always seemed to know things. She rolled her eyes.
"But this may be the only class we have together!" She wrote, making the exclamation mark big and fat.
"It's a small school." Misprint scratched.
"Yeah, so what?" She wrote back. Then they both glanced guiltily up at Mrs. Orrello, before continuing the written debate.
"So I'm saying that I want to get to know as much about him now than later." Shade wrote.
"Well at least try and pay a little attention." She looked pointedly at the page Shade had turned out, with gibberish written all over it. Shade scowled.
"Why are you such a goody 2 shoes all of a sudden?" She scribbled.
"Well, I'd rather pass now than take summer school later." She wrote logically. Shade sighed, then continued writing.
"Well, at least the old battleaxe didn't see us before." She scribbled. Misprint elbowed her suddenly, making her drop the pencil. She glanced over at her friend and froze when she saw her blue eyes staring upwards. Before her was a huge front of a horrible pink and polka dotted dress. Shade drew her eyes upward, suspecting the worse.
Mrs. Orrello was reading the lines they had written. All to late, Misprint slammed her hand down over the blue lined paper, but the teachers sharp eyes had picked up every syllable.
"Faith. Alyson. I think you two should stand out in the hall. Immediately." She said, breathing out through her nose, like some kind of dragon. Shade and Misprint hastily packed up their binders and stood. Everything was at stake now for the girls, knowing that getting on Mrs. Orrello's bad side this early in the year could be deadly. They were not eager to retake social studies.
Shade glanced back at Jack one more time, who was writing again. As hard as she stared, she couldn't get him to look up again. And suddenly, Misprint was dragging her into the hall.
+
"Damn that woman." Shade said, pacing around the incredibly messy room. "Damn it, damn it, damn it."
"Well, look at it this way." Misprint shrugged, completely apathetic, lying face down on a pile of laundry in her boxers and tank top. "At least we got outta Social Studies."
"Misprint, you know that I probably won't get the chance to talk tohim again." She said. She put so much emphasis on the word "him" that Misprint immediately knew who it was, and rolled her eyes. Shade sighed and sat down. She was wearing a black sports bra and her own boxers. "Boys ain't allowed in the goil's dorm, an'…"
"Feel free to end your sentence there. I already know what you're gonna say." Misprint assured her. Shade rolled her eyes.
"Thanks." She said sarcastically, tossing a pillow. It landed with a soft "thlump" on Misprint's back. She groaned and rolled over. Shade grabbed a hair brush and started violently pulling it through her hair.
"Hey." Misprint said suddenly, sitting up. "Tomorrow's Friday. There's that new club that's opening on Avenue A."
"But we ain't allowed outside the dorms after nine!" Shade replied. They looked at each other, and burst out laughing. "Let's go." Shade concluded.
"Damn straight. New club. Openin' near here. Wouldn't miss it for the woild." Misprint said, closing her eyes. She yawned. "Man. It'll be a nice change. I'm bored as hell." Shade, however, was looking thoughtful.
"I wonder if Jack would like to go with us…" She said softly. Misprint groaned and buried her face in the pillow.
Just then, thankfully, the bell that signalled lunch started ringing, vibrating through the entire building. Shade glanced around nervously. The buildings that held the girls and boys dorms were so old. Misprint had found out that they were tenements from the 1800s, when the Polish, German, and Irish families were immigrating over to "the new country", and setting up their lives in the rooms that the girls complained were too small.
They were brick, and musty smelling, especially when it was sunny, and the bricks soaked up the light and gave off a dry, clay odour that the girls hated at first, then found enjoyable, knowing it as the smell of summer. There was an air vent, that ran from the top of the building to the bottom, and a rickety black fire escape snaking up the side.
The buildings were so old, Shade was always afraid the slightest disturbance of the peace would make them collapse into a million summery smelling bricks and dead girls. Which would be great for the reporters and newspapers, but not for them. So she was always antsy about being in the building when the bell rang. It seemed so loud compared to the quiet, withered air in the dusty rooms.
Misprint looked down at herself.
"Too bad we can't wear this to dinner." She said softly. Shade laughed half heartedly.
"Of course not. You'd get expelled. And then we'd have no place to go." She said practically. Misprint nodded, and reached for her blouse and tie.
When they were fully "decent", the girls pushed open the door and started for downstairs, still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. The school days got so exhausting when you were used to a summer of laziness and freedom. Now the school rules seemed restricting, and tighter than the ties that they were forced to wear.
As they filed out of the old girls tenement, Shade's eyes flicked over the rest of them, trying to differentiate Jack, which wouldn't be hard, if he hadn't received the uniform yet. Instead, they caught on other jags. A boy with blonde hair and glasses in a casual blue tee shirt, dark jeans, and big black sneakers. His hair was sticking up oddly in some places, and sometimes smoothed down, in a mass of wiry strands of blonde. A cute, dark haired boy was wearing a black tee shirt, jeans, and a darker jacket over the whole thing. The most interesting of all, though, was a girl, maybe thirteen or fourteen, with jet black hair, glittering green, catlike eyes, with a red sweatshirt that bore a graffiti logo on the front. Four new kids at once, that didn't look similar, and didn't even talk to each other. It was too strange for Shade to figure out.
Misprint knew her friend was looking for Jack, and hastily elbowed her in the ribs. Shade shot her a glare, and elbowed her back. Soon, the two were engaged in a ferocious elbowing fight, which finally sent Misprint spinning into a prim looking girl with a practised, demure pout plastered on her lip gloss tinted lips.
"Watch where you're going." She said acidly. Misprint raised her eyebrows.
"Sorry, your highness." She remarked. Then she turned back to Shade. "Thanks a lot." Shade grinned and patted her on the shoulder.
"Yer welcome." She replied. The two pushed their way into the dining room and went to their seats.
The kitchen women came around, with their huge pots and spoons, ladling the usual beef stew into the bowls that had been set out. Misprint wrinkled her nose as Maria, an Italian woman, dumped a ladle full of it in front of her. But she knew better to complain, unless she wanted an accented tirade for most of dinner. She exchanged a glance with Shade, and looked back down at their food.
But just as Shade looked up again, she finally caught sight of him. The grey tee shirt was completely different from the white and blue of the blouses and ties that everyone else wore. They were given permission to start, and Misprint poked at the beef, wondering whether it was still pink inside, but Shade didn't let her gaze drop. He was so addictive, easy to look at.
Misprint glanced over and saw her friend wasn't eating. She elbowed her softly, not wanting to start a huge fight, but wanting to sufficiently get her attention away from whatever was so interesting on the other side of the room.
"Look." She said. "I know the food is hideous, but we do have to eat…"
"No…" she said distractedly. "No, it ain't that."
"Then what?" Misprint furrowed her brows, then followed her friends gaze. "Oh. That."
"What?"
"That. Jack." She rolled her eyes. "Look, if he's that important to you, I'll corner him after dinner and make him wait for you or something."
"Sure. I can ask him if he'll go with us to the club."
"Yeah, whatever." Misprint groaned. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and took a bite out of her stew. She hastily swallowed it, before she had the chance to gag, grabbed her water glass, and chugged half of it. Then she finally opened her eyes again. "Disgusting." She muttered under her breath.
Dinner seemed to stretch on for an eternity, Misprint having to have her glass of water refilled four times just to wash the taste out of her mouth. Shade hardly tasted a bite, as she kept glancing over at Jack, feeling pathetic and girly, but not wanting to rupture the warm feeling she got inside whenever she saw his face. Finally, the bell rang, and Misprint jumped to her feet.
"I'm outta here." She announced to Shade, as the rest of the students slowly began to stand up.
"Quick!" Shade said, as Jack stood and started leaving.
"Oh. Right." Misprint sighed, as though burdened, then shot towards the unsuspecting boy, and managed to elbow her way towards him just before he left through the door to the boys dorm.
"Heya. Jack." She yelled. He paused, and glanced over his shoulder, eyes blank.
"Me?" He asked.
"Yeah. You. Blondie. Who else? Wait up a second, wouldja? My friend wants to have a talk witcha." She motioned Shade over, who waved back and casually strolled towards them. Misprint rolled her eyes.
"Heya Jackie." She said.
"Hiya. Alyson, is it?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. She winced.
"No. No, not at all. It's Shade."
"Aight then. Shade." He extended his hand toward her. She grinned, and shook it, liking the feel of his warm, callused hand overtop of hers.
"We were wonderin'." Misprint started her off, eager to get out of this tan, surfer looking boys presence and back to her comfortable pile of laundry.
"Yeah." Shade picked it up almost flawlessly. "There's a club opening this Friday, Avenue A." She said. "Misprint and I are planning to sneak out. You game?"
"What time?" He asked.
"Ten, maybe ten thoity." She replied. He shook his head. Misprint sighed and glanced pointedly at the door. Small talk wasn't doing well for her patience. Shade, however, refused to give up.
"Can't make it?"
"No. And you shouldn't either." He said firmly. This caught Misprint's attention.
"Begging your pardon?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. He glanced over at her, but then returned his gaze to Shade immediately.
"Don't go."
"Whaddaya talking about?" She asked, slightly thrown off by this strange reaction.
"I'm talking about it bein' dangerous." He replied.
"Life without danger is a waste of oxygen." Misprint murmured absently. Shade smirked.
"Very cute. But I'm serious." Jack insisted.
"Your crazy." Misprint said dismissively, and turned to walk away. But his hand shot out and grabbed her elbow. "What?" She asked, whirling around.
"Do not go out after dark." He said again.
"Or what?"
"'Cuz it affects me." He said, smirking slightly. "And I've got enough on me back already." Then, with that final statement, he turned and walked away. Shade turned to Misprint in disbelief.
"What was that all about?" She asked incredulously. Misprint shrugged, then a familiar smirk breezed across her lips.
"Seems like he just blew us off." She replied.
+
Don't go out after dark. Don't go out after dark. Jack bitterly kicked at a stone and watched it skitter dully ahead on the overgrown grass. He knew the girls would never obey his brief, strange warning. No one ever really did, and it only made things worse. Don't go out after dark.
It just so happened that darkness attracted people like honey attracted flies. For some reason, people seemed to like the dark, become attached to it, forgetting the danger that always lurked in the shadows.
He thought of Shade and Misprint, and almost laughed. Shade was crazy about him, that was obvious enough. Every time he looked up she was there, staring at him. She was pretty, with her dark auburn hair and the light sprinkling of freckles across her nose, and her deep, chocolate coloured eyes. But he just wasn't looking for a relationship. It was the last thing he needed.
And Misprint. She was innocent enough, with her big blue eyes and stand-offish behaviour. But she could be easily victimised, and so could Shade. Anyone at the school could. And it was his job to make sure that they didn't get out after dark, didn't go upsetting everything, stayed inside.
So why weren't they co-operating?
"Jack." A voice said. He turned to see Dutchy, the blonde boy looking more distrait than usual. He flashed a small envelope. "News from the Bronx."
"A'right. You an' Bumlets meet me up in me room the minute you get the chance." He said.
"What about Chaos? She deserves to know too."
"I'll tell her." Jack said dismissively. To tell the truth, he wasn't all that concerned if Chaos got the information or not. She and Jack rubbed each other the wrong way, frankly, and weren't the best of friends. Not enemies, but not friends.
Dutchy nodded, then elbowed his way through the crowd, trying to get to Bumlets before he got too swept away to notice that one of his partners was trying to get his attention.
Jack branched off from the pushing crowd of boys down the hallway, past a short Italian that he had a Science class with earlier that day. He was lighting a cigar outside his dorm room, glancing furtively up and down the hall. Anthony Higgins.
"Hey Jack." He said, when he saw the blonde boy.
"Heya Anthony." He replied, opening his door.
"How you enjoying school?"
"Enjoying?" He smirked. Anthony grinned back, as Jack slid the door closed.
Glancing out the window, he could see the sun sinking below the city line of New York, outlining the buildings with a golden shine, as though someone had taken a sparkly marker and defined the grey building and the liquid sky. He sighed and slowly pulled off the grey tee shirt he had been wearing all day, bunched it into a ball, and tossed it into the basket he used for dirty laundry. Then he ran a hand through his hair. The move back to New York had been exhausting, and also kind of anxious, so anxious that his stomach had ached all night. But he had to work around it. He had to do his job.
A knock sounded on the door, and he hastily grabbed a black tank top and pulled it on, before going and opening it. Dutchy and Bumlets stood there, the envelope clutched in Dutchy's hand.
"Thanks you guys." He said quietly, letting them in.
"Okay. Let's see what this is all about." Bumlets said, sitting on the bed next to Dutchy. Dutchy nodded and opened the envelope. Both their faces grew intent as they read over it. Jack stood there, thumbs hooked in his pockets, and watched the both of them. Dutchy looked up at him, then slowly handed him the paper. Jack, brows furrowed, took it, and collapsed in a bean bag chair and slowly began reading what the Bronx had sent them.
He finished the strange letter, and looked up at Dutchy.
"A civil war?" He asked.
"I don't believe it." Dutchy said immediately. "They wouldn't fight their own kind."
"It ain't unheard of, Dutchy." Bumlets said slowly. "Humans have civil war. Lions and tigers have fights to see who will lead their pack next. I see no reason why they can't have a war…"
"It is rather strange, though." Jack said, resting his chin on his fist. "I mean…why?"
"And where do we fit in?" Dutchy added.
"Both sides? I dunno." Bumlets said, falling backwards and resting on the bed. He stared up at the ceiling. "I'm just assuming there's gonna be lots a trouble on the horizon."
"You and me both."
"Ah, comon you guys." Jack said, standing. He glanced edgily out the window. "S'gettin' dark."
+
misprint: and...another chapter! posted!
shade: after a large pause in which i read FOUR cheesy smutty vampire novels
misprint: and in which i procrastinated and made fun of her about those four cheesy smutty vampire novels
shade: what she doesn't know is that she missed out on sexy french men in leather and lace
misprint: what she doesn't know is that i know.
shade: then what i really don't know is why she would not like sexy french men and sex in bathtubs
misprint: well, for one, i just can't manage that handlebar mustache. and for two, only if you have those rubber pillow things, because i don't know about you, but concussions aren't very sexy. we hope you enjoyed this chapter, tune in next -coughmumblecough- for more angsty vampire entertainment!
shade: handlebar mustache? -is so confused-
misprint: possum. -closes aim box-
+
Mango Gypsy
misprint: who are they running from? the cops. basically. the reason why will eventually get explained...twenty or so chapters later...-ahem-. wow. this review is full of awesome. thanks, love!
Shade: Is it just me or do you rock the casbah? she's right though the review is super uber.
Student Number -coughmumblecough-
misprint: "never got to" is one of my favourite excuses. it implies so many things. too much homework, no internet, rampant weasels...it's like thousands of excuses all in one. well, twenty something chapters is a lot less daunting, ne?
shade: thats a good excuse "never got to" ooh i'm so using that from now on. okay if a god thinks a chapter is good does that make the chapter godly? [incase you missed it the god was you]
Thistle
shade: quick? us? never. . . no really we take FOREVER to update. . . but we love you anyway.
misprint: it's a good thing you didn't get to finish the first version, 'cuz...it blew. update quick? -cracks up- yeah. if you're lucky.
Gothic Author
misprint: if you thought it was great then, you're going to be super impressed. no more bloody accents! wheee...ha ha. fifty chapters sucessfully squished into twenty something. the miracles of desperate compression! and yes. yes, queen of the damned is horrible.
shade: GOTHICA SLANT. JC says 'je reve tu' and i say I love you. QotD is horrible. . . in a really really good way!
Mondie
misprint: ohhh...but that's the point! if you had saved all fifty chapters, there'd be so much bad left over, and no space for the good that is going to be this story! and we posted a li'l thingy on the board, so...wasn'tmenotmyfaultpleasedon'tyellatme. -shrivel-
shade: -hides- I'M SO SORRY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FORGIVE ME! please? I posted it after I talked to you and then I sorta forgot. . . but it makes me sad that you wanted to save the EVIL bad other version. -hides-
Shadow Dreamer
misprint: visited by a vamp? really? please?
shade: um. . . even though we updated can you send us a vamp anyway? or can you send me a vamp? please?