Chapter 2: Many Meetings
The next morning I woke with a strange sensation for that time of day-I was starving. I groaned, and got off the bed. I wondered why I woke up and then realized-I was cold. I hadn't yet made my bed yet. Sighing, I got out of yesterday's clothing, and dressed in sweats and a long-sleeved t-shirt, pulling on an overlarge sweatshirt before I could concede I was warm.
Yawning, I pulled on a pair of thick socks and sneakers. I looked around my room, my stomach telling me in no uncertain terms that it needed to be fed, right now. I snorted-I was never one to disobey my poor stomach. Fine, but you have to wait a bit!
My stomach grumbled angrily in reply, but calmed down. I glanced around the room, wondering if there was anything I would need, and my eyes fell on the clock.
It was almost 12:00 pm. The evil jet lag struck again. I muffled an angry growl. Jet lag was my worst enemy-it just wasn't fair that I could get so tired so easily.
Insert long-suffering sigh here.
I grasped my hard-to-get My Chemical Romance bag and hoisted it out of a box. It held all the books and CDs my parents would never be caught dead listening to, and thought I refused to listen to as well.
Thank her influence on me.
I spend some time on a happy daydream before my stomach reminds me of my obligations to it. I grumble in answer, and take out a book out of the bag I love so much. I grin as I suddenly realize that my jacket and bag match-both are My Chem.
Yawning for perhaps the first in a long line, I wander out, looking for the dining hall. Oh yes, right, straight, left, and then right again…
WAIT! Not there…excuse me; I must now go wash my eyes. I do NOT need to see the too-chipper social studies teacher making out with someone. Ah, here's the dining hall!
Thank goodness it's empty…I put my book on a table and place my hands on my crimson cheeks, hiding my face from the world. Once I'm sure I'm composed again (this takes quite a bit), I carefully take them away.
My noisy stomach again reminds me why we're here, and I scowl at it before moving onto the line to see what's available. The cooks are busy, but don't look surprised to see me. I wonder how many students roll in looking as tired as I do. I mutter a thank you and grab a plate of what looks like nothing I've never seen, and when I take a bite, I nearly choke. It has no flavor for the person used to Cajun and Creole food. I shake my head, and pull out a bottle of flavoring my grandfather gave me before I left. Applying it liberally, I take another bite, humming in satisfaction. Now it tastes good.
"Does it taste good? If it was me, I would be choking. Maybe you should talk to Fuji…he likes the Cajun flavoring." The sound of a rich voice layered with amazement and amusement nearly makes my next bite obstruct my breathing passage.
The guy gently slaps my back as I desperately try to regain my air. Once I can speak without wheezing, I whip my head around to see a tall boy with spiky silver-blue hair, looking like he'd like to laugh. "What. The. Hell?" I growl out finally.
He smiles at me—but it's a smile that resembles the Cheshire Cat's. "I'm Niou Masaharu, but you can call me Niou." He informs me cheerfully, sliding into a seat next to me. Even sitting, he's, like, feet taller than me.
I close my eyes, trying to regain my composure. "Was that completely necessary?"
He cocked his head. "If you mean that it was necessary to scare you out of your wits so you nearly died, well, yes."
I glare like an offended cat.
He only laughs. "What's your name, darling?"
"I do not give my name to those who are on my bad side," I say stiffly, going for my grandmother's stuffy, aristocratic, haughty tone. I can apparently not pull it off, because he bursts out laughing.
Damn, his laughter is addicting. I can feel my glare melt, and finally I'm laughing as hard as he is.
When we both calm down, I mutter, "Cassandra Thompson."
"So, dear Cassie, where in the American South are you from?" he inquires, shamelessly stealing my apple.
"Two things—1, don't call me Cassie. 2, how did you know I'm from the South?"
"Your accent gave it away, love," he laughed.
Damn.
"And your choice of food. Not many people I know, with the exception of Fuji of course-he's so addicted to wasabi-are willing to drown perfectly good Salisbury Steak in hot sauce."
I look down at my plate. "Is that what it was supposed to be? I thought it was baked cardboard."
"Don't tell the cooks-they are quite insistent that they are better than anyone else around," Niou warned.
I shrug. "I call them as I see them," I remark carelessly.
"Saa…is that so?" Another boy plunks down across from us. I have to admit, his closed eye smile is a bit creepy, but he looks a lot like Aili, my…friend from back home.
I nod, wondering if he can see it. As I look hard at him, I notice his eyes are open by a crack. Ah…that settles it, and I can settle down again. "Yes." I reply to his query.
Isn't query a great word?
Coming down from my happy food/hot sauce/content plane, I re-examine my plate. "So, you are?"
His smile brightens by a few hundred watts. "Fuji Syuusuke, but just call me Fuji. Everyone else does."
I blink as the light from that oh-so-familiar smile sears my eyes. "Who is this 'everyone'?"
"The students here," he replies as careless as I was a few moments.
I sniff. "I am not 'everyone'."
He giggles. "Obviously. So, tell me, madam Cassandra, why do you flinch when I grin?"
"She's flinching?" Niou asked with surprise. "I haven't seen it."
"Niou, you need to become more observant," Fuji chides. His attention reverts back to me. "Well…?"
My face is suddenly cold, and that means I've paled. I remain silent, and his eyes are beginning to open. When his eyes are completely open, they are some of the most startling blue eyes I have ever seen.
Her eyes.
"You wouldn't happen to know someone named Aili Jennings, would you?" I ask delicately.
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Hai…actually, she's my cousin. You know her?"
"She looks a lot like you," I offer weakly. "She smiles like you do."
His eyes light up in recognition. "You're the girlfriend she talks about so much!"
"Hang on…" Niou says slowly. "Cassandra's gay?"
"Lesbian, Sapphoist, whatever term you prefer," I reply, attempting to be nonchalant. I've never been so open about this topic before.
Niou grins. "That's great! It means that the girl who goes to a school full of gay guys won't be wasting her time by crushing on one of us!"
It's my turn to blink. "You're all gay?"
"Well, Hiyoshi isn't, but who cares about him?" Niou informs me. "Yeah, we're all gay. And most of us are together," he adds almost sheepishly as if I'll pass judgment on him.
Right. I'm in no position to judge.
"It's fine," I wave a hand carelessly.
After some stimulating discussion from the two boys (I had no part in it, I insist), about how they should show me the school so I don't get lost, it is finally agreed that they'll take a look at my schedule and help me find my classrooms.
I have to go back to my room for that, leaving my book on the way, --Sigh--. And I was at a good part, too.
So the happy little tour has become to come to an end. I know now how to get lost at my school.
Lovely.