Red Hair, Black Soul (Red & Black #1)

05 | A book, a letter, and a feather

Wednesday is the day I have the World Literature class.

Which means that on Wednesdays, I'm even more grumpy than on a regular basis. It's not that I don't like reading. I do. But that's where it ends for me. I read, I finish, I put the book back onto the shelf and move on to another. I don't dwell on it for the next two months, gushing over its awesomness - or lack of it, thereof. And in World literature, that's exactly what we're doing.

I'm a rather reserved person, so sharing my opinion with the outside world is not my biggest target. I'd rather have a passionate monologue by myself than be a part of a bigger discussion. And from what I remembered from when I attended real school back in Scotland, these lessons were all about sharing your thoughts connected with the book and stating your point of view. Not something I'm eager on doing.

So when the bell rings, I enter my class and take a seat in the very back of the classroom, hoping it would somehow make me invisible. Not that it's possible with the colour of my hair. Unfortunately, I'm the only redhead in the entire classroom. Maybe I could wear a hood.

I look up and notice that everyone's already here. Some properly seated, some leaning against other desks and chatting, but still, everyone's present. Well, everyone apart from the teacher. I furrow my brows, wondering why she's not here yet.

"That's normal." My head snaps to the side when I hear a voice addressing me. My eyes connect with a pair of brown ones, framed with thick, black lashes. I take in her dark skin, heart-shaped face and curly, black hair pulled up into some sort of a bun. The girl sitting next to me smiles and nods her chin towards the teacher's empty desk. "Mrs. Scottinson. She's always late. She says she likes big entrances. Or something like that."

I nod, wondering how she knew what I was thinking. A sympathetic look appears on the girls face as her eyes brighten.

"You're the new girl, right? She asks, and I wait for the inevitable: The one who pushed this guy down the stairs?. Surprisingly, it doesn't follow. "Adairia, was it?" 

"Ada." I correct her automatically. "Forget you've ever heard my full name."

"Okay." She laughs. "But frankly, yours is not so bad. My name is Makena."

She extends her hand and I shake it hesitantly. I can't remember the last time someone willingly introduced themselves to me.

"I know that me knowing your name is quite creepy, but trust me, news travel fast. Probably every single person in this class has heard about you by now, even if they don't act like it. It's not often that someone transfers during their senior year."

Tell me about it.

"Perks of being the new kid." I murmur.

"Hey. It's not so bad. They'll forget about you the second they find something else to talk about. There's a party next week, I'm positive someone's going to do something stupid and steal your thunder." Makena tells me.

I nod without much conviction.

"So how do you like - Oh, look who decided to finally join us." Her eyes dart to something over my shoulder and I turn.

The second I do, I wish I hadn't moved at all.

The same shaggy brown hair. The same boyish smirk. The same brown eyes, this time hid behind big, black-rimmed glasses.

My shoulders sink. I really must be cursed.

"Hello, Fiona." He muses, catching my gaze. "Fancy seeing you here."

"My name's not Fiona." I snap.

"No." He agrees, nodding slightly. "But you remind me of the princess from the Shrek. You know. All red and deadly."