Chapter Four: Rumor
I awake to the loud buzzing of my alarm clock only for the devilish device to switch off the moment I reach for it. Like a puppy, I slowly pop my head out from under the thick covers, soaked in sweat and drool dribbling down my chin, still half asleep.
"Good morning, Mr. Whitney Prep Freshman. It's time for school."
At papa's groggy but kind voice my nose picks up the smell of homemade blueberry pancakes, an American tradition he carried over here. I bolt up and head for the shower, forgetting that I'm all but naked, just in a thin pair of boxer shorts. Hey, don't judge me, it's mega-hot right now.
In twenty minutes, I'm ready for the first Monday of the year. I run out to the car, unable to drive still, and dad is there waiting with both of the front doors flung wide open.
Unlike my khaki and Christmasy attire, he's donning khakis with a bright violet and white plaid long sleeve button up. The sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and what looks to be a large manilla folder is tucked underneath his right arm.
"What's that stuff?" I ask as I approach him, going around to the passenger side and sliding in.
Papa slides in, looking me over, his eyes conveying something akin to worry.
"Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? I can still pull you out. You can go to Elmore High."
"Papa, I'm already signed up. It's too late back out. Why are you so worried about me going to Whitney anyway?"
"Uh." He briefly looks down at his lap and then back up at me again, the unease more prominent. "I'm just, concerned, that, you'll-"
"Dad!" I bark, "Don't lie to me. What's wrong, and what are those papers?"
He purses his lips, the ever-sagging jawline momentarily becoming higher, more defined.
"Important documents, that's all I'll say."
Dad starts the car, the loud roar of the engine shutting me up before he has to.
When we arrive, he pulls up to the front and I hug him goodbye. While stepping out a crowd students 'Oooohs' and cackles at the open display of affection. Dad drives off the moment he sees it doesn't affect me.
Walking into the big, obviously renovated, building I'm met with more taunting and a rough grab from behind. My white collar and crimson tie chokes me as I feel a piece of paper being slapped onto my back, my navy green blazer shifting as the thug lets me down. And by let, I mean he drops me.
I rub my bruised butt with an audible ow as the main guy and his group of chuckling wanna-be gang members leave. I'm short for my age, and most seem to take advantage of that fact. I get bullied for it from time to time, but mostly during the school year.
"Gou?"
I turn to see Lin and Makoto running toward me. It's nice to know they care. I move to stand the moment they extend their hands, Makoto takes the opportunity to rip the taped sign off me, Lin next to him.
"What's it say? Kick me?" I joke, having had that done a few times before, I figure this would be no different.
Their faces go from sour to livid, but before I can get a clear look at the supposed trigger, Lin is sprinting off like a bullet in the direction the bullies went, toward the front of the school. Meanwhile, Makoto is crumbling the paper up and tossing it away.
He looks at me and says, "You don't wanna know what they wrote, man. It's nasty."
I nod, my mind having a vague idea as to what the note said. "Gotcha."
As Makoto and I walk the halls, we see Lin being pulled along by the assistant principal, the Headmaster's very own wife. Let it be known that I hate power couples, they are never right in the heads when it comes to dealing with kids.
"Miss. Kon, we don't tolerate violence here." She more or less tosses Lin at us, Makoto and I both catching her. "Do it again, and I'll leave you with the Janitor."
She turns on her wrinkly heel and prances away, happy with her smug self.
"Three hundred yen says she's in a sexless marriage and the Janitor bones her in the broom closet."
At Makoto's whispery quip, Lin and I nearly fall to the floor, spitting on ourselves as we laugh hysterically.
But in the back of my mind I wonder, who'd dare leave a child alone in a locked room, and with a much older man to boot? Detention or not, there should be more than one type of authority figure in the room, and the door should be unlocked at all times, unless there's a lockdown. To me, that type of privacy doesn't sit right. And for it to be said so casually, makes my blood run cold.
"Did you hear?" I hear a girl giddily whisper as I walk into my first-period class.
According to the schedule it's, Economics 101. Please, say we'll actually learn something useful, like how to do taxes, or invest in stocks, and wisely handle our money should the local economy start to wilt. I've never had this class, but I'm usually pretty good at anything that isn't Chemistry.
"Hear what?" Asks her friend, sitting atop her desk, close beside her.
I check the seating chart at the door and find that my seat is at the front of the room, directly in front of the teacher's desk. Damn, I hate sitting at the front. This is gonna suck.
I sit down by the girls, as they continue to squeal over whatever the one sitting in the desk just spat out.
"Is he really that dreamy?" She coos, cupping her hands together in delight.
Keep in mind, I'm not looking directly at them, I just can't help but see them out of my peripheral.
"Yes, and his feet are big." The sat one says, practically drooling all over herself. She must have a foot fetish.
"How do you know his feet are big?" The other asks, clearly confused and a tad weirded out. You ain't alone girl.
"He got some new shoes at our shop yesterday. Size 13. You know what they say about big feet. Just wait 'til you hear his voice, Agatha. Oh, honey, I thought I was gonna cream myself!"
"Eww, really Rachel?"
"Just wait, you'll feel it too."
I get up to go to the bathroom, feeling ill. I didn't need to hear any of that.
As the day wears on, I hear more rumors about the new teacher. Most of the girls say his voice is porn for the ears and the guys say that his strong physique is straight out of their wish-fulfillment fantasy. Are some of the guys fawning over him too? Wow! Luckily, I haven't heard Lin gush about him, but maybe that means the strong, silent type isn't her cup of tea. Guess I've run out of luck then.
"Hey, Daddy Lover!" Says the same group of wannabes from earlier today. Their purple haired leader is the one who spoke, the other three not having a voice still.
"Randle, fuck off." Makoto pipes in, showing the anger I refuse to.
Randle is the son of a well-to-do businessman from Germany. While telling me about the school, Papa said that his dad was an old friend of theirs named Robert but he hasn't talked to him since he was a teenager. People change over time, but if Randle is anything to go by, Robert seems like the king of all assholes, and he looks like it too. Randle is his father made over from what Papa told me.
"What? I can't join Daddy Lover and the misfits for a bite to eat? That's rude."
The look on Makoto's face tells me that a fight is about to erupt and I jump in between them, Lin joining me. Guess my hair-trigger temper rubbed off on him at some point.
Randle and his posse retreat, stating that they'll finish this later. I hope not. We sit back down at our table, and after several minutes I feel the whole room staring at me. I look up from my chilled soup and see that my instincts are right. I'm being gawked at for whatever reason. Getting back to my food, more hushed whisperers surround me but I don't care to make out any of them.
I walk into Ethics, my last class of the day, to find the principal and some man around Papa's age, but two heads taller, talking about the day. The headmaster seems to be congratulating him on a job well done, at least for his first day. After that the rest of the class files in, and the oldest of the two leaves to go do something else that he deems as important.
There's a long stretch of silence, and then our Ethics teacher picks up a new piece of white chalk. After writing what appears to be his name in the most gorgeous cursive I've ever seen, he turns to face us. Was he raised in the military? Even without speaking, he's intimidating.
"My name is, Kai Hiwatari, and I'll be your new Ethics teacher starting today. Now, does anyone have any questions before we begin?"
The girls ramble off, a few guys too, most asking if he's single, if he needs help after class, and what his workout regimen is. Honestly, I'd like to know myself, the rumors are no lie, he's ripped and that voice is entrancing. But something else is bugging me.
As he politely ignores most, if not all, of the intrusively personal questions thrown his way, I can't help but think something odd... Is he from the future? Because, he looks just like me.