Thursday March 9TH, 2006

8:50 AM

Adams Elementary School, Northeast Las Vegas, Nevada

Paris "Xander" Smith took a deep breath as he walked down the aisle of his fifth grade classroom. As far as weeks could go, this one wasn't going bad, considering it was almost over, just two full days until the weekend and three days until his birthday on Sunday.

Just six hours to go till the bell rang at 3:00; that was 360 minutes, 21,600 seconds, 21,600,000,000,000 nanoseconds…, Paris took another deep breath to calm his mind down, going into nanoseconds was just asking for agony, 360 minutes sounded bad enough…but 21,600,000,000,000 nanoseconds sounded even worse. Well, at least the weekend was on its way…just under 48 hours…2,880 min- he shook his head…reminding himself not to even start.

Quickly he took his seat and pulled out his math homework from the previous night. It had been the first time in a week that Eric, his uncle/foster father hadn't checked his homework, not to make sure the answers were right, but to make sure it was done at all, but some big case had Chief Eric Williamson running ragged and checking on his nephew's homework was the last thing on his mind.

Without even a second thought, Paris quickly answered each question on his worksheet, wrote Xander Smith on the top and pushed it to the corner of his desk. Paris had been going by Alexander since he was five and Xander for about three years, Alexander had been another name that his namesake had gone by, and frankly they just sounded normal as opposed to Paris, not to mention it was his middle name.

It wasn't that he didn't respect the name his mom had given him, quite the contrary, to be named for a Trojan Prince from a story as famous as the Iliad was cool and something to be proud of… unfortunately for most, the name Paris did not bring up images of Greek heroes and ancient battles, it brought up a more feminine image…such as the heiress to the Hilton Hotel chain and voted most likely to be caught doing some stupid reality show.

No, it was just safer to let everyone think his name was Alexander. At five years old, Paris had approached his kindergarten teacher and explained his situation to her. To say she was surprised by his explanation would an understatement. She was use to typical five year olds, whose biggest problems were remembering how to spell their name and how to find the bathroom on their own; she had been completely taken aback by Paris's request and taken aback by the way he explained his situation.

But since that day, Paris made a point to approach his teachers about his situation. At first most brushed off his request as him being untrusting to his peers and paranoid, all gave in eventually and he had yet to have a teacher call him Paris while in the presence of his peers.

With his math homework done, Paris turned his attention to his reading; each student had chosen a book and over the course of two weeks was expected to read at least two chapters of their book a night, at the end of the two weeks, a presentation would be made by each student on their chosen book. This day was the halfway mark for the class and today at 1:20, each member of the class was to discuss their book thus far.

Most of his peers were halfway through their chapter books, titles such as Hatchet, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the Chronicles of Narnia books, the Westing Game, Paris had even seen Jamal Goldberg reading Red Badge of Courage, attempting to suck up to their teacher. Everyone knew that Jamal hated to read and was planning on just using cliff-notes to do his report and was even planning on finding the movie version to avoid doing even more work than necessary (which Paris wished him the best of luck finding, since only two movies had ever been made, one in 1951 and the other in 1974, the latter of the two never made it to video and exactly how long Jamal would last with the 50s one was up for betting).

Everyone knew of Jamal's plans…everyone that is minus the teacher, and Paris seriously wondered if Jamal would actually get away with it.

Though…he was one to talk, Paris hadn't even started his book. There were only two rules regarding their book choice, it had to be over 150 pages and it had to be something that they hadn't read before.

This created a major problem for Paris; there were so very few books that he hadn't read, his choices were severely limited. In the end, his only hope was to invade the local library, go to any section, close his eyes and just read whatever title he had pointed at. It just so happened to be Great Expectations…the only Charles Dickenson novel he had not read.

At first Paris was overjoyed that he had found something rather quickly and would have his book report done in record time, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that that book could get him a label he had been trying to avoid, the teacher had made a big deal with Jamal had claimed Red Badge of Courage, he could only imagine what reading Great Expectations would do to him.

So, quickly Paris threw the 544 page book back on the shelf and headed for the kids section; there he settled for another book he had never read, The Thief Lord, it was about 370 some odd pages and definitely made the cut, but was just enough over to give him a bit of a challenge, since the book was full of Italian phrases; a language that he could speak a little, but knew he would have to glance over the glossary in the back of the book to refresh his memory.

Looking at his watch, Paris calculated how much time he had, the bell would ring in five minutes, he could read about 10,000 words per minute, the book had 376 pages, with 91,390 words throughout the entire book…that meant it would take him roughly 9.139 rounded up to about 10 minute…to read the entire book, but technically all he had to do was read half of that, that was 188 pages of the book,

Paris shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, his mind always went into over drive when it came to school and it created random facts that no one would really care about, luckily he knew how to keep it to himself and managed to always keep his mouth shut.

The only person in the world who knew just how smart he was had been his foster mother…well he never thought of her as his foster mother, she was his mother through and through, she was all he had ever known, not knowing anything about his birthmother, but in his mind that was all she was, his birthmother, she had given him his genes, but his real mother was Leslie Smith, the woman who had made the decision to be his foster mother when he was barely 48 hours old, had brought him home despite all the medical attention he needed at being born four months premature, who had named him, and loved him no matter what he did.

She had understood his fear of being labeled smart, she hadn't liked it and did everything she could to prove to Paris that being intelligent was a gift and something to be treasured, but she let him be his own person, to make his own decision about his own life, even if she felt the decisions were wrong, she understood the best way to let him learn was to try and fail, it was the way she could be sure he would make it in life.

Sighing, Paris closed his eyes and pictured her, Leslie had counted on every equation in childcare, she had been caring for foster kids for ten years before Paris came into her life, he was the longest foster child and the youngest she had ever cared for and had made such an impact on her that she was willing to devote the rest of her life to being someone's mother, legally as opposed to only the physical and emotional definition of the word that he had experienced his entire life. But the one part of the equation that Leslie did not factor in…her own mortality. Paris felt a tear sting his eye and quickly bit his lip to keep the tears back.

Everyone tried to keep what was going on from him, all of them underestimated his intelligence and determination to figure things out, Leslie hadn't, but she had done all in her power to keep him from knowing. She gave up custody of him, asking her best friend Lori and her cousin and Lori's husband Eric Williamson to take up care of Paris, she begged them not to let him see her, and checked herself in a hospice house, dying there a month later.

He never said goodbye, he didn't get the chance to say anything to her, even standing over her grave, which Lori Williamson brought him to, Paris was unable to find words to say, none of them seemed the right ones, especially at that moment.

All Paris could feel was rage…he hated her for not trusting him for not letting him make the one decision that mattered the most, he hated the Williamsons for carrying out her wish that he not see her on her deathbed, but the one person that Paris hated the most was himself…he hated being a kid because no one respected his opinion, no one thought he was old enough or even mature enough to decide how his life should play out, he hated how he allowed himself to be governed by the adults in his life and didn't stand up for himself each time.

Since moving in the Williamsons and losing Leslie, Paris had grown reclusive, he didn't talk to anyone more than he had to, he just kept his head down and did was he was supposed to. Hence why he was looking forward to the weekend, two full days of being by himself, least till Eric made him come out for family time

The couple had a child of their own, a daughter named Janet who was away at her sophomore year of college at the University of Utah, where she was studying psychology and sociology, so she was rarely home.

He liked it when she came home for break, for one thing, Janet had quickly slipped into the big sister routine with Paris (something she had done before he had moved in with her family and something she had only gotten better at with his joining the family) and kept updated on his life through email, he loved hearing about the classes she was taking and what college was like, but with her home it also meant that Eric and Lori were swooning over her and left him entirely alone, they didn't intentionally forget their nephew, but Paris wasn't complaining.

The coming weekend was just one of those weekends; Lori had headed off after dropping Paris off at school, it would take her six hours give or take traffic to get to Salt Lake City. Most likely they would stay overnight at a hotel so Lori wouldn't be driving for twelve hours straight. Then starting at 3:00 PM once again give or take traffic and who drove the car home… Janet would be home for spring break and that meant a week of freedom for Paris. Free to lock himself in his room and read or play video games, only emerging for school and dinner and of course for his birthday, which would probably include dinner out, cake at home, and presents from Lori, Eric, and Janet.

Paris stretched in his seat, he had four minutes now until the bell rang, plenty of time to get most of the book read before Mrs. Piper came in to start math. But as he stretched, Paris didn't pay attention to where his feet were going; Keith Brown didn't either, as he tripped over Paris's outstretched leg and hit the floor hard. Paris's eyes went wide as he scrambled up from his seat.

Keith wasn't the biggest kid in class, but he was one of the meanest, Paris and Keith had managed to avoid a meeting with one another since the school year had started in September, but it looked like Paris' number was finally up.

"Ke…Keith I'm sorry man, I wasn't paying attention." The class had gone from loud chatter to complete silence as they watched the two boys. Quickly, Paris put his hand down to help the bigger boy to his feet "are you ok?" Keith pushed Paris's hand away hard as he stood up.

"I'm a lot better than you'll be in a few seconds punk!" he said grabbing the collar of Paris' shirt and raising his fist. Instinctively, Paris scrunched up his face, preparing for the blow,

"Principal!" someone whispered loudly as everyone dove for their seats, knocking some chairs over and scrambling for his or her respective chairs.

Keith gave Paris one last glare that told Paris this was far from over and headed to his own seat a few rows back.

Sighing, Paris slid back into his own seat, fully aware of his close encounter and also fully aware that recess that day was not going to be pretty, not if Keith had anything to say about it. Maybe he could convince Mrs. Piper to keep him in for recess; he glanced down at his math homework, complete and answered to earn him at least an 80%. Causing trouble in class was not in his best interest, but maybe he could change his answers to make it at least a 50…that would catch her attention and have her keep him inside to go over the material. It had worked in first grade to give him a chance to relax during recess, instead of running from the 3rd graders who insisted on terrorizing him and the other 1st graders.

But before he could make a move to erase his answers, the door swung open; standing in the frame was an older woman whom Paris had never seen before. She had a no nonsense look about her and a by the book expression. He gulped…it was a substitute, his worst nightmare come true.

Most times he had found out about subs before they appeared in his class, it gave him a chance to give them the same speech he gave his regular teachers about his name. But he had been completely in the dark about this one; his only hope was that Mrs. Piper had written his name as Alexander in her attendance book as opposed to his legal name.

The sub walked to Mrs. Piper's desk and put her handbag on top and surveyed the class. She seemed to be able to pinpoint exactly what child would give her trouble, which ones would remain quiet, and which ones would be reliable and trustworthy enough to give her specific details about the material.

"My name is Ms. Finch, and as you might have guessed, Mrs. Piper is feeling a bit under the weather and has asked for me take her place for the duration of the day. I expect you all to be on your best behavior today, because I will not hesitate to pass on my opinion of you to Mrs. Piper, whether it be pleasant or not. I require you're undivided attention throughout the day and if all goes well, a positive report will be passed on. Mrs. Piper has written her lesson plan in great detail and we will cover everything that is written."

Ms. Finch paused and looked the class over once more, she glanced up at the loudspeaker, just as it clicked on and the principal's familiar voice echoed through it.

"Good morning Adams Elementary, will everyone please stand for the Pledge of Allegiance?" Paris followed in suit of his class as the stood, but the entire time he kept his eye on Ms. Finch, fully aware that life as an average blend in kid could soon be over.

After the pledge and morning announcements were complete, Mrs. Hesser bid everyone a pleasant day and cut off her connection to each classroom. Now Ms. Finch eyed the class again, contemplating which child to pick. She finally settled on Jessica Martin, a quiet girl whom Paris got along with pretty well, like himself, she did her best to blend in with the class and getting called on in class always made her nervous, so Paris could only imagine what thoughts were going through her head as Ms. Finch pointed a boney finger at her and gestured for her to stand up.

"Would you be so kind to tell me what Mrs. Piper does after the morning announcements?" She said in a no-nonsense tone.

"First she takes attendance, than takes a note on whose eating hot lunch or who brought their lunch. She also takes the lunch money and milk money and has someone bring it down to the office." Jessica replied, her voice shaking

"Thank you?"

"Je…Jessica,"

"Thank you Jessica, you may be seated." Ms. Finch reached into the top draw and pulled out a seating chart.

Paris's eyesight wasn't the greatest, he had glasses, but tried not to wear them if he could help it, he had yet to put his glasses on in Mrs. Piper's presence so she had not moved him to the front of the class like some of his classmates. But squinting, he recognized the chart, he had seen the ink spot in the top corner on the first day of class. He groaned, sometimes having a great memory really sucked, that seating chart was the original chart given by the school, the ink spot was from Eric Gagne's pen, it had exploded on the first day of school and had gotten on Mrs. Piper's original attendance sheet.

"Crap," Paris muttered so softly no one heard him

"Now, as I call your name please say here and raise your hand so I know where each of you are. Also to let you know I will not tolerate nicknames of any sort, your parents gave you full names for a reason and I will use your given names. If I mispronounce your name you may correct me, but nicknames will not be corrected. I would also like for you to let me know what your lunch status will be." If Paris had been sure that the name on the sheet was written down as Alexander, he might have just sat back and enjoyed the entertainment of hearing his classmates be called by their full names, but since he knew what name was on that sheet, all he could concentrate on was the pit in his stomach that was making his heart race and his body shake. The Alder twins were first to be called, no one could tell them apart, even though everyone had known them since first grade, making Paris wonder if they had switched places, like they usually did with subs. "Christian Alder?"

"Here, milk only"

"Lucas Alder?"

"It's Lucian ma'am, the school misspelled my name on the attendance record, and I just need to buy milk too." Luke spoke up, Ms. Finch nodded, glancing at the class as if to tell them that what Luke had done was what she expected from polite well behaved children.

"Samantha Blackwell?"

"Here, I'm buying lunch," the names continued on and on and when she reached Kirsten Robinson, Paris knew he was next, he bit his lip, debating on whether to answer here, tell her that it was a mistake on the record too, or just pretend that wasn't his name.

"Paris Smith?" she called out, the class looked around at one another, then at Paris…he was the only Smith in the class, but they had all known him as Xander. "Paris Smith are you here?" Slowly Paris raised his hand, he tried to give the same speech that Luke had given, but his mouth was dry and he was distracted by the whispering around him and couldn't form his words as his nerves kicked in full throttle. "Next time pay attention Mr. Smith, I will not make it a habit today of calling your name twice to get your attention." She said, "now did you bring a lunch from home or are you buying?" Paris felt his $2.25 for lunch in his pocket. "Mr. Smith I really hope you are not going to be difficult today. Your classmates have each been able to answer me promptly and directly."

"So…Sorry…I'…I brought my lunch" he lied, she nodded and made a note of that on the sheet, before moving on to Yolanda Svenent.

The whispering continued and soon gave way to giggles, despite the threatening glares from Ms. Finch; all Paris wanted to do was disappear, roll call seemed to last forever and when she finally finished, Paris tried to calm the nerves in his stomach.

Mrs. Finch surveyed the class once more and turned to Jessica, who apparently was her chosen helper of the day. Paris knew that she couldn't have picked a better kid than Jess, who was the only one not giggling and giving him funny looks.

"I would like each of you buying lunch today to please place your money in this manila folder that I am passing around, the other manila folder is for those of you buying milk only. The envelopes are clearly marked so please do not get them mixed up. Jessica, when the money is collected I would like you to bring them down to the office." Jess nodded quickly, she stole a glance over at Paris, looking at him sympathetically, before turning her attention back to Ms. Finch.

The morning did not get any better after that. When handing in his math homework, Ms. Finch quickly noticed that it was signed Xander Smith, she of course pointed it out in front of the class and made Paris write his proper name out on the sheet. This kind of thing happened for the rest of the morning, and by the time morning recess hit, Paris was ready to confront Ms. Finch about his name, she had obviously heard the giggling, she knew what he was going through…at least he hoped she did.

When the bell rang, the class jumped up and scattered towards the backdoor of their class, one of the few rooms that led directly out to the playground. Paris waited until the chaos had cleared, before heading towards Ms. Finch, nestled very comfortably at Mrs. Piper's desk.

"Um…Ms. Finch?" he said softly,

"Mr. Smith, the bell for recess did ring, you only have 15 minutes so I suggest you head outside with your classmates."

"I just…I just wanted to ask you for a favor,"

"Mr. Smith we are not friends and I am not your mother, I am your teacher I do not do favors for my students."

"It's just that, well my name is Paris, but everyone here knows me as Alex or even Xander, it's been that way since first grade, I was kind of hoping to keep Paris out of the equation."

"Mr. Smith; Alex or even Alexander is in this case at least…a nickname, your name is written down in the school records as Paris and thus I will call you Paris. Now I do not see any mention of the name Alexander on Mrs. Piper's attendance sheet, is Paris not your first name?" He wanted to lie…he wanted so badly to tell her that Paris was his middle name, maybe save some of his dignity…what was left of it anyways, but he was a horrible liar and Ms. Finch seemed to be one of those people who could easily distinguish a lie from the truth.

"No…" he finally said "no ma'am," he hadn't meant for it to come out as a no, but being truthful wasn't going to keep him from the teasing that was waiting for him outside and he was so used to denying the name Paris. Ms. Finch's face narrowed as she gave him a look that froze his insides.

"Mr. Smith I do not like being lied to, now Mrs. Piper may put up with your shenanigans regarding your name but I will not and as long as I am teaching today you will be riding on thin ice. Now…Paris, please join your classmates outside and I will make a note to inform Mrs. Piper of your behavior today."

"Bu…"

"Now Mr. Smith I will not tell you again." Ms. Finch ordered, pointing at the door, realizing he had no choice, Paris made his way to the door. Dreading each step as he stepped closer and closer and the minute his foot hit the blacktop, the teasing started.

"Sooooo" Keith's whiney voice came from his right "all this time our little Xander has actually been little Paris…how cutsie"

Paris took a deep breath and tried to ignore Keith, instead of listening, he filled his mind with math problems, figuring out the exact amount of seconds until the weekend, then till April vacation, and before he knew it, he was figuring out exactly how many seconds until his high school graduation, he would be eighteen, that was about seven years…that would be 61,320 hours…220,752,000 seconds…no was that right? It didn't sound right…he must have missed a carryover in the problem

"So what were your parents smokin' when they named you huh? I mean its one thing to be named Paris if you're a girl, but a boy? Man what a sissy! Your parents musta wanted a girl pretty bad, to bad they got stuck with a sissyboy. Bet your mom put you in little pink dresses and heels…" Keith's best friend David said, but Paris barley heard him, he was converting 61,320 hours to days…

Then when he began to hear the other kids more clearly, he turned his mind towards something stronger than his math skills, his memory skills; he began reciting Poe's the Raven, over and over in his head, it was his favorite poem and always calmed him down, Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered we-

"Hey Paris, was your mom some crack head too drugged up to know you were a boy or was she trying to honor Paris Hilton? Either way your mom must've been butt faced loony… what a wacko"

"Butt faced Loony? Good one Jamal," Keith said with a grin, "toldja buying that book of insults was worth it, hey, we could write our own just insultin' Paris and his screwed up mommy."

Quickly, Paris came out of his own world; he turned to Jamal…the kid who had mentioned Leslie…

Without thinking twice, Paris lunged at Jamal and Keith sending all three of them to the ground, David managed to dodge out of the way, but Paris didn't care about David, it was Jamal who had said that about Leslie.

He kicked, punched, and screamed as he attacked the bigger boys, he didn't care how beat up he got, he didn't care what would happen to him at all…Jamal had crossed the line talking about Leslie, and Paris would get in as many shots as possible before the yard monitor realized what was happening.

Some of the other kids from their class and a couple from the sixth grade classes came over and tried to pull Paris off of Jamal and Keith, but he was kicking so much that every time they got near him, he kicked them.

It took nearly a minute for the yard teachers to finally get to the boys, after pushing through the herd of onlookers.

Mr. Galloway the gym teacher who had been at the kickball field with some third graders, reached Paris first and lifted him up off of Keith and held him in the air as he struggled to get back at Keith, meanwhile Mrs. Yolkes a 6th grade teacher and Mr. Forrester the other fifth grade teacher helped Keith and Jamal to their feet.

Jamal's face was covered in blood, but it wasn't his own, it was Paris's, Keith had managed to nail Paris right in the nose, before the smaller boy had started the kicking; Keith himself had tears in one eye, because the other eye was beginning to swell shut.

"What is going on here?" Mr. Forrester yelled looking at directly at Paris, Mr. Galloway lowered Paris to the ground so he could talk, but he had nothing to say, he wiped his bleeding nose on his arm and sniffed back his tears "well?"

Paris took a deep breath, he looked at the three teachers, than at his classmates, Jess was staring at him, as if she was frightened of her friend, Paris then glanced at the gate just down the playground, without even rethinking it…he took off running.

The teachers were so surprised that it took them a second or two to give chase, Paris didn't know where he was running to, but he knew he was not staying at school. He hit the gate and threw it open and took off down the street, Mr. Galloway almost caught him, but the gate he slammed into bounced back and hit Mr. Galloway square in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him, by the time he recovered his breath, Paris had disappeared down the street, leaving everyone on the playground stunned, and leaving the teachers to rush into the school to get some extra help. Mr. Galloway had a feeling where Paris would go, and while the other faculty members were frantic, Mr. Galloway, a long time friend of Eric Williamson, called his friend, hoping that Eric would have a better idea of where Paris might head.

A/N: Ok probably should have mentioned this in the first chapter. I have never been to Las Vegas, so any references to the city was done with research online and speaking to friends who have gone, but mainly online. So if anyone from Nevada is reading this and spots an error whatever it may be, I apologize! Thank you for the reviews I have already received I appreciate all of them!