The Young Blood

5.

So Rachael and I came to the classroom together, apologizing for our lateness as the headmaster had requested our presence.

"Ah, you must be our new student," the teacher said, "why don't you introduce yourself?"

"Of course, I am Anastacia Mikailhov, it is a pleasure to meet you all." I gave them a bow, which seemed to raise some eyebrows.

The teacher directed us to sit and Rachael guided me to a pair of small desks paired together alongside plastic chairs.

Our classroom had twenty-five pupils, many of which were now sorely focused on me. Among them, I noticed one of those terrible girls who now had a form of bandage over her nose and held some ice to it.

"Do I stand out so much?" I asked Rachael.

"Eh, you're new and they might have heard what happened already, what with Katrin over there."

"So that is her name?"

"The other two are Candace and Mildred. Preppy bitches."

"Preppy?"

The teacher spoke up then, calling us out for not listening. Rachael apologized. "I'll explain later."

We thus focused on the lesson at hand, Rachael explaining how to properly do a 'class' using a textbook that had exercises in, but you could not write in it, you had to use a notebook and copy them over, which Mr. Gomez had acquired for me.

This first class went on without problems and I felt somewhat confident; I had to get through our next class period on my own, which was admittedly a scary endeavor, but all I had to do was follow what Rachael had taught me.

A few people, primarily girls, inquired about me and I remained as cordial as possible, explaining I had just moved from Russia and would attend the school for the time being.

I also took notes as Rachael had instructed me to, I was not entirely sure about this subject of American history, but nonetheless, I took notes diligently.

As agreed, I joined Rachael back at our locker between classes.

"How was your first class alone?"

"I believe I did well blending in with humans," I said.

"I sure hope so," she sighed, "Well, nobody's sounded an alarm and I don't see people sharpening stakes, so you must've done alright."

"Did you doubt me?"

"Ana, you're hopeless, you still talk like you're out of an old BBC show."

"I would protest, but I do not know what a BBC show is."

Rachael snickered. "You have so much to catch up on."

"I do not deny such."

Rachael examined my schedule and then directed me to my next class, reminding me to play to cool, which I knew meant relaxed in this instance. A third class went on and it was much in the same way as the second. This meant that we had reached the midpoint of our day, and thus it was time for the 'Lunch period.' Like last time, I joined Rachael at our locker.

I followed her onto a line by a counter where food was served and mimicked her actions; taking a small box, a small tub with colorful foodstuff, a paper plate with a mixture of what I could only describe as breaded disks, along much more recognizable items such as mashed potatoes and peas. Then we exchanged currency with the 'lunch lady' and Rachael sought out a seat for the pair of us.

As we looked about, I noticed Lydia and Nora among the crowd. Lydia was seated among a group of people while Nora was by herself in a corner of the room.

We sat down and I examined the food. Spearing the breaded item with a fork. "What are those?"

"Chicken nuggets."

"What part of a chicken is it meant to be?"

"Ugh, we honestly probably don't want to know."

"This is our meal? And we paid money for it?"

"That's cafeteria food for you," Rachael said with a dry laugh. "Come on, try one."

I cautiously brought it to my mouth, it was quite mild in flavor, certainly not as repulsive as Rachael had made me fear. "It does remind me distantly of chicken kiev."

"That's good, right?"

"I suppose so," Rachael had begun her meal with the strange container of brightly colored foodstuff which held its shape. "and what would that be?"

"Jell-O," seeing my lack of understanding she elaborated; "It's fruit gelatin?"

"Ah, we did eat something similar, although savory back home, we call it kholodetz."

"Oh neat, what kind of things did you eat back then?"

"Lots of things, prepared by our chefs."

"Chefs, like more than one."

"Yes?"

"You spoiled rich girl," she laughed, "Lucky you, so you or your mother didn't cook?"

"That we did not."

"I used to cook with mine..." Rachael paused, her gaze wandering away. "Anyway!" She snapped back toward me. "What was your favorite thing??"

I had to think for a moment. "A personal favorite of mine was the Veal Orlov, a dish of veal, onions, and mushrooms in a cheese sauce."

"That does sound yummy, maybe we could try making it?"

"You know how?"

"No, but I have google."

"That would be the search— thing on the cellular telephone?"

"Yes, and you can just say phone, and it's called an app." She took out her own phone and pressed on the screen for a time before turning it over and showing me a picture of the dish and a recipe.

"That is quite amazing, it has recipes?"

"Girl, it's got everything you could ever know."

"Such as?"

"Everything humans know, we can find it."

I paused. "What about... the national flower of Russia?"

She types it in. "Chamomile."

"The author of war and peace?"

"Leo Tolstoy, serialized in 1865, published in full in 1869." She had a grin. "I told you, anything."

"Would it know what happened to my mother?"

Rachael's smile faded. "Everything people know and recorded, I mean I can look? What was her name?"

"Olga Mikaelov."

Rachael entered it into the phone and pursed her lips. Then frowned, typed some more. I watched her struggle some more.

"Sorry, I can't really find anything..."

"Nothing?"

"All I'm getting are Facebook profiles, Instagram influencers, and like a bunch of eulogy from old newspapers. Sorry..."

"Ah, it is not your fault, it was foolish to think it would know something that happened so long ago."

"Still... I wish I could help."

"You have gone far beyond what I could ask for from a friend, I know in time I will find my answers."

"I hope you do." She said with a smile.