The Way We Feel

02: Leila

Leila entered the classroom. It was stupid to feel so wary about it, but only the simple act of having Sarah beside her had made English bearable. Now, she really didn't know anybody.

She looked around the classroom, trying to find an empty seat. There were a few scattered about, but they were surrounded by students and she didn't want to risk taking one that was being saved. She sighed, dropping her books on a desk in the first row.

"Who might you be?" The teacher asked with a smile. Leila returned it, weakly.

"Uh, I'm Leila Sydney. I just transferred here." He looked impressed, for whatever reason.

"Interesting. And where do you hail from? Canada? Europe? Australia?" Leila stared at him.

"Er, I'm from Texas." He frowned slightly, disappointed.

"Well, I'm sure Texas is lovely too." She was saved from any further conversation by the second bell. The teacher clapped his hands excitedly.

"Hello, class. I do hope your spring break was eventful—or not so, depending on what your idea of a good time is." A few students chuckled. Leila had forgotten that Langley Secondary had just been out on a break. It made transferring here slightly less awkward; she didn't just appear out of nowhere one Monday morning.

"Now, I have some exciting things to share with you. Of course, as usual, I'll most likely be the only one who enjoys it. We are doing long-term partner projects!" Nobody cheered, but he wasn't discouraged. "I'll be randomly assigning you all to a partner, and together you'll research your respective ancestries. Try to come up with a link between them, whether they both arrived in North America for the gold rush, or they once met at a Shakespeare play. Doesn't that sound interesting?" That sounds awful, Leila thought. She hated partner projects. They forced two people who never talked to spend weeks in close proximity with one another.

"One more thing. It will count for fifteen percent of your final grade." He got a reaction out of that. "Now for the groups." He picked up a baseball cap and...pulled a name from it. He was actually pulling names from a hat. "Jennifer Fletcher and... Jamie Morris. Hmm, two j's. I'm expecting good things from you two!  Please remain seated until everyone is in a group. Let's see...Jack Deilon and Ember Wardeil." He rummaged around in his hat. "Zachary Boisclair and....oh! Zachary and Leila Sydney."

Leila froze at the sound of her name. She turned around to see a guy at the back of the room waving at her. Crap. He was with what she assumed was the popular crowd. He had a leather jacket on, which looked...really nice with his brown hair. And tanned skin. He—knock it off, Leila said, mentally slapping herself. He's probably a jerk.

"Now, please go meet with your partner. I'll give you five minutes to discuss a game plan, then I want you to get down to business." She refused to move, and stubbornly stared forward as she waited for Zachary to come to her.

"Hi," he said a few moments later. She looked at him; he was grinning lazily. Oh man, he had dimples.

"Um, hi. Zachary?" He shook his head.

"Nah, call me Zach. You're new," he observed. Leila pursed her lips.

"Thanks for telling me. Um, game plan? I want a good grade." He chuckled.

"Then we'll get a good grade. We aren't doing our final presentation as a poster, though." Leila shrugged.

"So we need to find common ground. I think my ancestors are from Britain—my mom mentioned a Scottish grandmother or something and my dad—" she faltered briefly, but hoped it wasn't noticeable. "I think his family was from England. If we're lucky, you'll have some relatives from there as well?" He shrugged apologetically.