W a r . of . the . R o s e s
Stargirl
. II
The delicate rose threads through
The storms' leaf-tearing gusts of air
The threats of trampled rosy petals
Beneath the bristles' glare
A lark sings in the distance
Battling confusion twists the grounds
Perhaps the rose be as crimson as they
The one that so astounds
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Finally the next chapter! Ah… a burden off my back. Sorry it took longer than I thought. Thank you goes to Jana for editing this! Then a thank you to Jana, Shari, slntserenity, Jess for helping me to brainstorm and encouragement (slntserenity particularly for helping find the parts that were making the chapter "blah" and for being on my case until I finished ^.~). Everyone's feedback has been so wonderful! There was far more than I had hoped for. Thank you for your support especially. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I've been working on a special digital art for this story! Please check it out at the link listed below. Jess is coaxing me into doing more for the other characters. Do you share her opinion? Please let me know. ^_^
* * *
The morning dawn came with a soft, steady drizzle, the sound dwelling in Serena's ears as she woke in her bed. A blue haze encompassed her closet-sized room, stuffed animals, music boxes, and other such figurines cast in shadow from where they sat cramped upon the shelves.
She stared bleary-eyed up at the ceiling, her fogged mind playing over images from her dream. With every minute that dragged by, the dream was blurring and shattering, flying into oblivion as dreams tended to do. She frowned, fighting to remember what it had been. She rolled through her memory, piecing together an image of her school. It had been some form of a ghostly nightmare. She had been walking in the school, but the school had been grander, the corridors even larger than possible. It had been dark, everything cast in shadows by the moonlight. Crimson roses had crept over every surface, mingling with shrouds of ivy in their tyrant reign on the building. Needle-sharp thorns tipped with red had glared from every rose's weedy stem.
Serena turned over and buried her face in her pillow as she fought a grown that rolled in her throat. She didn't want to remember any more, but the dream resurfaced anyway. She could still feel that cold, small feeling that had wallowed in her stomach as she had walked over the stone floor in her scarlet uniform, her shoes echoing off the surface. Columns rose like giants to the sky-like vaulted ceilings. Voices had started ringing, tearing away the thick silence with whispers and echoes. Every rude comment, every scorning voice, every threat, every humiliating word to be encountered... some had been spoken to her for real, coming back to haunt her. Other words had transpired from the abyss of her mind, the truth and false ringing along side by side in a festering choir, blurring into one painful entity of sounds so it had been impossible to determine the difference between them.
She had started running. Nothing had been the same. Entranceways that should have led outdoors had led down another labyrinth of corridors; the classroom doors were old-fashioned and locked like dungeon doors. The thought could almost sound humorous, but it had been too dark and haunting for her to laugh. There had been something else in the dream, she thought, no longer trying to block it out. She had swerved under an archway, startled to find a room with an enchanted garden and an unexplained hovering glow of light. The ceiling had still arched high above, but her feet had stepped from the flagstone floor to grass and then to gravel path.
"Can I help you with anything?" A smooth male voice had swept over her with a feeling of deja vu. She had turned slowly to see the last thing she remembered from the dream: ocean blue eyes shrouded by ebony hair. 'Why did he have to be in the dream?' she thought sulkingly, fingers curling into her pillow as she peeked back into her room. In her dream, happiness had swelled inside her as she had heard his voice and turned to see him. It was sad considering her real meeting with the guy and that she had no connections with him in any way. Still, his presence in the dream bothered her and she couldn't fathom way. "It's because it's pathetic," she mumbled into her pillow. She rolled onto her back with a yawn, stretching her arms until they hit protruding shelves. With her mind clearing of the cobwebs of sleep, a scowl dragged at her lovely face. It was time to face the real Whittenfield Academy.
* * *
The English Professor stared across his students with pale eyes, silence reigning across the room as the students waited. With a wrinkled frown, the man's gruff voice spoke the single word with a royal flair. "Dismissed."
Serena let her breath escape, slowly gathering her second-hand books with worn coverings and faded gold emblems into her bag as the students around her piled out with a dignified order. Her desk screeched as she stood, earning her a beady gaze from the professor where he hunched over his work. All of the teachers, she found, had this superior, wise look soured by disdain towards all those considered lower. 'They were no better than the students,' she thought bitterly, making a hasty retreat into the hall.
Her tongue peeked out to dampen her dry, pink lips as she turned to walk down the corridor. Frosty blue eyes flittered about, careful to never make eye contact. The heels of her black shoes clattered against the hard floor; in her mind, her footsteps seemed oddly loud, as if signaling her presence to all of Whittenfield! With stern determination, however, she kept her face void of emotions, her back arched to the breaking point of stiffness, and small chin lifted.
It was apparent that many now knew of her from the fencing incident. Whereas yesterday she had been met with indifference, today she was spurned by unwelcome looks. She walked past them--all of them, trying not to watch their stares and secret smiles as she clenched her finger's over her bag's handles. With a lonely ache in her chest beneath the encasement of resolve, she fled down the halls and out two ornate doors to the courtyards that spread between the buildings, refusing to give anyone the satisfaction of scrutinizing her.
She drew in a tight breath as she stood there, listening to the rain for a moment. Spirit calming, she broke out into a leisurely pace through the walkways with sheltering overhangs that skirted the courtyard, her mind lulling peacefully. A robin shaking its feathers as it landed on a branch nearby, shattering glistening raindrops with a chirp. Her eyes softened. It was nice not having to scramble around looking around for her next class as she had done the day before.
The grounds were void of people--but then the nip and the damp air might have led them to make use of the inner corridors for the day. All for the better. Serena was content to forget their existence even for a few moments, with only the rain's whisper and the heels of her shoes against the stone path to hang listlessly in her ears.
A smile even peeled across her pink lips as she thought of the timid, but nonetheless friendly, girl from fencing, an unhelped spark of triumph flickering though her. She couldn't wait to tell the girl how wrong she had been. There was nothing to worry about. She had to admit that for a brief time she had worried about standing up to the raven-haired princess of Whittenfield, but after the first two classes it seemed the emotion had been in vain.
Serena's mind was drifting cheerfully. The grass and manicured bushes of the courtyards seemed brighter--greener--than before, glistening with webs of raindrops. She watched ripples spring gracefully in a nearby fishpond as she wandered around the corner to the angled path that continued to frame the courtyard, startled to attention by a sugary greeting. She looked up, her stormy blue eyes taking in a lean, poised girl with a beautiful waterfall of crimson hair who stood before her, dark lashes silkily drooped and lips in a disdainful twist of a smile.
Wariness struck Serena, her body stiffening and lips thinning as her cerulean gaze swept across the four other girls that flanked the red-head's sides, their sly smiles festering inside her in warning. Serena turned her gaze back to the girl, her expression bland as her hands fisted at her sides. She raised her chin, finding her voice had steeled. "Can I help you with something?"
The girl remained smiling, tilting her head whimsically. "Rubbish like you don't belong on this campus," she finally murmured.
Serena bristled, trying to take calm breaths even as her lapis-blue gaze narrowed. "I am not rubbish."
The girl continued on as if Serena hadn't spoke. "Your whole family is poor as rats, aren't they?"
Every muscle within Serena's body tensed to the point of aches. Her eyes stung with angry tears as she drew in a sharp breath. She tried to speak through the knot in her throat. "And I gather your whole family is as high-headed as you!"
"Are you saying you're better than us?"
"No," Serena snapped. "I'm saying you aren't any better than me."
The girl's eyes blazed, her luxurious smile growing stiff and forced. "But we are. You're out of your league here, Serenity Blake. If you don't believe that then you are the most pathetic, foolish creature I have ever met." The girl looked down for a moment, clucking her tongue. "You think you're the first, do you?" she challenged. "There have been many just like you--nobodies who thought they could change the world. You see, you are just a nobody, and you are even more of a nobdoy if you believe standing up to Miss Whittenfield could change that."
Emotions struck Serena in her gut, swelling and exploding as her hand flew across the girl's cheek. The girl's manicured fingers darted to the side of her face, tentatively touching the angry red that marred her translucent skin as her shocked, lethal gaze leveled on Serena. Serena breathed hard, blood rushing in adrenaline as she stood there trying to gather her wits.
Her mind a startled numb, Serena was too slow too react to the onslaught of vicious hands around her as the four silent girls sprung. She gritted her teeth against the sparks as fingers dug into her hair and yanked it as she wrestled against the pulls and shoves. Scratches and fingernail imprints blushed her tender skin, the sound of her uniform's rich material ripping and the sight of ornate buttons tumbling to the ground reaching her in the chaos. "Let me go!" she cried, thrashing out at a cocky brunette.
She had witnessed unfair fights quietly from the sidelines at her old school, but that hadn't prepared her for the desperation dragging at her insides and the wildness springing through her veins and mind as she fought to get loose. Her feet dragged across the pavement when suddenly the harsh grips shoved and let go and Serena fell out from under the overhang. Her back slammed into the wet ground and her head snapped painfully with a torn gasp.
Rain pounded onto her like cold knives, plastering her hair and uniform to her body as she struggled to push herself up on the grass. Water glided over her face and she shivered under the icy rain as her body temperature seemed to run degrees lower. She dug her foot in the ground and tried to rise, a blurred hand reaching through the blanket of rain to clamp over her arm. Her frame shook, her fisted hand lunging to beat against the person as she wiggled to free herself. "Leave me alone," she growled through her gritted teeth.
A male's low chuckle sent her mind into a whir and her thrashing body to stillness. Her dark lashes fluttered against the drops glistening on them as she peered to get a good look at the blurred form of the person holding onto her. Her breath hitched with a shock of light feelings for some mysterious reason as she saw ebony hair and bright blue eyes above her and thought it was the boy from the garden. Amidst her thinking, the boy pulled her up underneath the shelter of the overhang.
Her pearly white teeth chattered from the chill inside her, and as her gaze flicked up she beratingly noted her misjudge of identity. Without the obscuring rain she could see that this young man's eyes were silver-glazed, his face softer angled, and his ebony hair sleeked back into a dignified ponytail that reached down his back.
She was such an idiot! Why did she think it was the boy from the day before? He was a student from a different school. The guy before her clearly wore Whittenfield's rich crimson uniform, though his slacks were black instead of gray and an ornate, long pin was fashioned above the emblem on his coat's breast. The black slacks signaled him a senior, though she couldn't say as much for the pin.
What a sight she had to make just then--a cold, wet, wreckage. Her arms dropped heavily to her side, her knotted gold hair tumbling around her face and ripped and torn uniform. She looked away from the young man before her, her eyes landing on the girls with surprise. They all just stood there like statues, their faces white as ghosts', and their red-haired leader looking particularly shaken up as they gazed at the young man in something akin to horror.
Serena's eyes continued their trail around, catching on the forms of two lanky senior boys lounging around a little ways away with grim, shrewd expressions. All of them seemed to be waiting for the senior who had helped her onto her feet to move or speak, but he only stood there with cool composure, his unreadable eyes transfixed on her. She drew in a slow breath, soaked, cold, and very wary, and did the first thing that sounded good to her. She pursed her lips, curled her fingers at her sides, and barreled down a path away from them.
She stared across the grounds with the mist-shrouded old buildings and the aging stone statues that sprouted among the wet foliage. A faint river of emotions streamed through her, a startled, cold vein of blurred feelings. Lithe footsteps reached her ears through the soft, shattering sounds of rain and she felt dizzy all over. She wound through the labyrinth of pathways that were sheltered by the overhang, just trying to forget. After awhile she got tired of trying to escape the footsteps. She was tired of everything, really. Tired of the school, of the people, of walking, of being cold. She turned to face the person who had been following her, not quite knowing what to make of the young man.
Seiya Whittenfield stepped up to the water-drenched blonde with a faint smile touching his lips. He took a hold of her hand, his warm fingers stroking her damp, frigid ones, his eyes never leaving the girl's. His black eyelashes crept over his silver-blue orbs and he leaned over her hand, lifting it to brush his lips. When he straightened, he had yet to release her hand. Her body stood loosely before him--not tense, though not reacting to his charms. Her wide, blank eyes said she was still trying to figure him out.
It was unfortunate for her that his thoughts and feelings never surfaced to be scrutinized by others. They only saw what he wanted them to see, and at that moment in time Serenity Blake would only find his charm--at least until he figured out what he wanted to do with her. Noted, she was sickeningly poor and had challenged a member of the student council's authority, but something intrigued him about her.
His clear gaze landed appreciatingly on the siren she made. Her skin looked china pale; her matted hair curled comely over her face in a tarnished-gold hue. Where her scarlet uniform tore open in the front, her blouse plastered to her figure quite nicely. Her flaxen complexion brought out her striking blue eyes, but more temptingly her ruby lips.
His crystal eyes shadowed with his inner thoughts, but he covered them with a smile. "Come. I'll get you dry," he told her, turning to walk down another path. He stopped, feeling her presence not with him. He tilted his head, gazing back at her through the corner of his eye. She hadn't moved from her place, like a wet angel wary of following a demon. Oh, but he had many demons. Indeed though, she did not need to know that unless he wished it. He flashed an assuring smile. "Follow me or not, but you are likely to freeze if you don't."
Her turned back around, his eyelids drooped and ears tuned to his surroundings. After a moment he heard a small step and then another. Triumph flowed easily through him as he began walking again, knowing that she was following close behind.
* * *
She was more out of it than she had thought, Serena realized driftingly as she walked. Her being felt hollow. All she wanted to do was go home and curl beneath her covers and sleep. She followed the boy without question into an ornate building she had never been in before. Gold trimmings adorned the artistically designed walls and ceilings, scarlet red carpets stretcheding out on the floors and trailing up the center of a winding staircase. She shadowed behind him up the steps, numbly entering a spacious room with a heirarchy of floors and elegant furnishings. Cathedral-like windows flanked the walls, welcoming the ghostly pale light. The boy left her standing there before she could speak.
He returned within moments with a brand-new girl's uniform folded in his arms. She accepted the clothes graciously, murmuring a soft, "Thank you," as she got a good look at him. Crystal-blue eyes stared back at her, silky ebony hair swept back into a long, dignified ponytail. Somehow, in her weary mind, his light eyes darkened to a stormy indigo, wisps of black hair materializing to shroud a face which had broadened from its almost feminine shape. The boy from the garden.
Shocked at herself for her imaginings, she stepped back, stifling a gasp. The senior in front of her smiled, seeming to have mistaken her actions. She did not correct him, trying to fight a blush as she escaped into a bathroom he gestured to. That was the second time her mind played that trick on her! Blasted, he had to be the dream, she thought scathingly.
She sighed, deciding to forget the matter. Her underclothes were still damp, but by drying the rest of her chilly skin and slipping into the new uniform, she was decidedly warmer. Meekly, she stepped out of the room. She prepared herself to thank the boy again as he walked over, but her attention fluttered elsewhere as she caught sight of a grand archway of glasswork around two doors that led to an expansive balcony. For a moment she gazed through the glass doors, mind lost in the rain that streaked through the stormy air.
"You know... It wasn't a very good idea to challenge Raye Whittenfield," Seiya murmured, watching her carefully.
Serena lifted her gaze to him. "I'm not afraid of her," she said softly with a simple tone.
Seiya was silent for a moment, his stare thorough and making Serena's breaths thin in her throat. Finally he cocked his head with a whimsical smile. "No, you're not," he consented. His hand lifted, knuckles brushing down the side of her face. "But then again, some fear can be a good thing."
Serena frowned in response to his words, though her attention dwindled by the presence of his hand hovering over her cheek. She had never had the quality of confidence--or at least it had felt that way to her all through her life as she had swept quietly through the years at her previous school. She hadn't been a nerd--just a girl who no one paid attention to. They hadn't bothered her, and she hadn't bothered them. That was how it had worked for so long. Whittenfield Academy stroked the stubborn fire in her, but this boy's attention to her left her utterly dazed and witless.
"You're beautiful."
Surprise made her dizzy. Serena's gaze veered back to the young man standing patiently before her, pink staining her cheeks from her daydreaming and his words. Her large cerulean eyes stared at his face in disbelief. "You're joking," she muttered, wariness wandering through her blood. Her skin had to be deathly pale, her face washed of any makeup, and her hair a tangled damp mess. These things, she was quite sure, did not merit a handsome young man drawn to say she was beautiful.
Serena dragged in a breath as he slowly leaned his head down. The seconds were lost to the distant shattering of rain, her blood seeming to thicken and make her drowsy as she breathed. Oh God... she thought distantly. His lips neared and in the last possible moment when his warm breath fanned her face, she twisted her face away, hand raising to his chest to stop his advance as she stepped back.
The boy's lips dropped open, his brows raised. Serena fidgeted under his widened gaze as he blinked. Still looking across to some object in the room, Serena attempted to speak. "I--I'm late for class. I--The teacher will scold me as it is." Self-bitterness prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. She hated it when she stuttered.
The boy nodded slowly, drawing back. "All right. I'll walk you there. The teacher will not bother you."
Serena blinked, her face as vast and vacant as the grayed skies. His words might have been a different language for all the response they induced--until a little trigger of thought tipped off in her mind. If it wasn't for the boy's telling uniform, she would wonder if he were from a different school than her. His vision of Whittenfield at least seemed quite far from hers! She shrugged away her thoughts, opting to silently walk with the boy to her next class. He was more than likely just trying to be encouraging.
She braced herself once in front of the classroom door with the boy towering behind her. She meekly turned the brass knob and peeked inside.
"Miss Blake!" The teacher's gruff cry shook her as she straightened. "Tardiness is a sign of blatant disrespect that I will not have in my class."
"May I apologize sir for this student's lateness?" Seiya asked as he stepped into the room with a flourish. "It is my fault."
Serena could hardly grasp the transformation that the teacher went through. The old man nearly choked on his own breath, worn eyes enlarging as he scrambled for words. "I didn't realize... Yes, yes. By all means, the girl is excused." Drawing a breath, he waved Serena in an encouraging manner to take a seat. "Please join us, Miss Blake, and the class may be continued."
Serena hesitated, sending a questioned, bewildered stare back at Seiya who merely smiled and nodded at her. She walked tentatively down one of the rows, aware of the onslaught of strange looks the students gave her as she claimed a desk. Her gaze fell to her lap and she was, for all her bewilderment, neither lectured by the teacher for her absence of attention or insulted by a single classmate all through the class.
* * *
Serena stood amongst the students, her mind numb to the pairings the fencing teacher regally proclaimed for the day's practice. She had wandered through lunch and her other classes with a ghost-like demeanor. Her other classes had met her with the normal cold shoulders, and the teachers weren't nearly as forgiving for her wandering mind as the one had been. That class... She puzzled over it now. They had acted so differently, and she was certain it had been due to the presence of the boy. He was just a senior though, right?
A sigh blew out her lips. At lunch she had thought of and quickly threw away the idea to bring the incident with the girls in the morning to the office. Perhaps at her old school she could have. She had a cold feeling that Whittenfield authorities would either shrug the matter off or the school's treatment of her would leap to unbearable lengths. The only thing she had anticipated that day was meeting the quiet Amy at fencing class, but now even that little joy sank to her stockinged feet. She could glimpse the dark-haired girl across the room and had waved, but knew the chances were slim that the teacher would randomly pair her with the girl.
Distantly, Serena heard her name called by the teacher and lifted her head to catch who her partner would be.
"Serenity Blake and--"
"I'll pair with her," a cool voice floated over the fencers, cutting off the teacher's resounding voice and stilling all the students in their places. The sky's pale light, gently sun-kissed after the morning's rain, spread into the massive facility from the tall windows. Silence draped in the room like a tense echo after a choir of gasps and whispered exclamations. The teacher gaped after being interrupted.
Bewildered to no end, Serena desperately searched for the speaker, her daffodil-blond hair flying with her head as her large azure eyes scrambled over the students. Her gaze landed on Amy from across the room, frustration teasing her as she saw the mousy girl gasp and grow paler than normal. She tugged her eyes away, turning to see students around her part for a young man in fencing attire who strolled towards her. She choked on a gasp, seeing the ebony hair sleeked back into a long ponytail and immediately recognizing him as the boy from that morning.
Serena craned her neck to stare at up him and met his cool eyes as he as he stepped beside. He nodded his head in hello before turning to the fencing master with a raised eyebrow. This teacher had much the same response as the teacher earlier that morning.
"Mr.--Mr. Whittenfield," the teacher struggled out before clearing his throat. "Yes, yes. Of course."
Numbed by shock, Serena followed Seiya when he tugged at her hand, feeling all eyes digging into her form. She mindlessly wrapped her hand around the Foil sword he handed to her, her lovely blue eyes large and sharp as she stared at him. Whittenfield! The name ricocheted in her hazy mind, a twisting weed in her stomach. It was beginning to make sense, she realized with dread. He was the notorious student president--Raye Whittenfield's brother. So what in the whole of bloody England was he doing?
* * *
Raye Whittenfield's ice-blue eyes lost their constant shield of indifference, growing enormous with shock, rage, and confusion. Her gut coiled in frustration at the detestable, festering feelings. She felt frazzled, her slim body trembling with the tension. She drew in a sharp breath through her teeth, glaring at the blonde twit who stood with her brother on a fencing strip. Her sharp mind was at a loss, startled to the point of alarm at the unexpected action of her brother.
She stood tall, her body wound tight as her slender glove-clad fingers dug into her palms at her sides. Her face was pale, red lips a taught line. Her brother had seen what happened the day before! He knew Serenity Blake was a dangerous line to be crossed. He was too bloody reckless and cocky for his own good. Raye had always held near to the same views on everything as her brother, understanding him with equal respect... but this? Irritated, Raye swiped at a strand of raven hair, carefully watching her brother's form as he leaned over the new girl, gently helping her position her arms.
"Who is that?" a shocked whisper from a nearby junior exclaimed, the words tingling in Raye's ears.
"Serenity Blake... That's the girl from yesterday!"
The other girl gasped. "You... you mean, the one who challenged Miss Whittenfield? Are you sure?"
The whispers from the girls festered in Raye's ears, the soft bewilderment in their innocent conversation storming around within her and igniting a fresh bout of anger.
Bristling, she flew over the floor like a revenging dark angel, anyone in her path gasping and scrambling out of her way. Seiya was still over the Blake girl, one hand resting on her shoulder, the other on her hand that held the sword. Reaching the two, Raye grabbed onto the blonde and swung her away, turning to her brother with a threatening gaze. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, a growl tracing her voice.
Seiya returned her gaze mildly with only a glitter of annoyance, raising an eyebrow. "I believe what I do is my own business."
"She insulted me so it's my business too!" Raye snapped. "You're acting like a fool."
"Am I?" Seiya mused with a silent laugh and wry twist of his mouth. "I am doing what I wish to--and I expect to never be questioned. I fear it might be you, Raye, who is acting like the fool. You don't want to make a spectacle of yourself, do you?" Seiya murmured.
Scathingly, Raye knew he was right, their audience's stares bristling over her creamy skin. It had been too outrageous--she had had to act, but her nature forbid her from showing a weakening amount of emotion. She slipped easily into a careless pose, her eyes deadening as if by magic to their icy depths, though the threat that laced through them remained. "Of course not, brother," she returned, locking with his own serious gaze. She gave a gesturing flicker of her eyes towards Serenity Blake, her mouth twisted derisively. "American trash," she murmured, her gaze cold, empty. "You are far, far out of your league." Fire sprang to the blonde's eyes.
"That's enough, Raye," Seiya drawled with a final tone. Amusement smoothed over his features and he nodded obligingly. "If you will excuse us," he said with a smile, turning dismissively from her. Raye glowered for a moment before regaining control over her temper. The only thing worse than losing her control was for others to witness it.
Serenity Blake had remained quiet throughout the siblings' exchange, but Raye felt the girl watching her while unconsciously cradling her left arm that had been injured during her fall in the fencing match. A glimmer of pleasure tucked into Raye's mind and she relished it as she twirled around and glided away, trying to forget her confusion and anger. Whatever her brother was up to, the girl was on dangerous grounds, she thought as she reclused herself to an empty entranceway. She leaned against the wall, crossing her legs and arms coolly with her chin lifted high, silent as she continued to watch the fencing pair.
There had been another blonde in the lower class starting the school year before who had stood up to the council. Seiya hadn't hesitated to strike her down unmercifully, initializing the school's notorious hazing until the broken girl had dropped out of school. There was nothing different about this girl, Raye thought with a pensive scowl. He hadn't volunteered to pair with Serenity Blake to humiliate her further in duel as he was casually giving the girl pointers.
Within she had calmed, but her gaze was cold and shrewd, her mouth a tight line. She watched like a black panther, silent and brooding with a threatening gleam in her eyes. Her rim of ebony lashes drooped. There was a weed coiling inside her, snaking through her perfect calm. Not having the answers was what she hated above all things.
* * *
All eyes followed Serena the next morning as she walked down the hall. The stares were shocked and strange. The students watched her as if she had changed into a different creature entirely. Serena treaded on warily, further confounded when a handful of students politely stepped out of her way to let her view her locker. Serena cocked her head at them, twisting around to gaze once more at her silent audience. Some of their eyes, however, passed by her. Frowning, Serena twirled back around to see where their stares landed. An elegant, long-stemmed rose hung tied by a ribbon that weaved through the slits in the beige door, a velvet crimson of petals swirling in her mind.
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