Holmes Sawyer

Chapter Two (Party Likes It's A Hard Days Night)

"Please welcome Holmes Sawyer to Greenville Secondary school everyone!” My woodshop teacher yelled to the class. My face became hot as everyone turned their attention to me entering the room.

Wooden benches lined the left side while dangerous looking machinery lined the right.

“Please talk a seat Holmes! We won’t bite!” The teacher said as he smiled and laughed. Okay, a bit creepy... I thought to myself.

I scanned the benches, again trying to find a non awkward place to sit when I spotting Beatrice in her pink jumpsuit. I practically ran over and occupied the empty seat next to her, she was too busy texting (probably her boyfriend Carl) to notice me.

“So, how is your first day going?” The teacher asked openingly. His smile started to turn into a grin as I began to speak.

“Um.. good I guess...” I responded not really knowing what to say.

“Fabulous! Here at Greenville Secondary School we like to know what you think! Given the boundaries listed by the principal... Any way, who is ready to woodshop!” He hollered expecting a round of applause, which he didn’t get. Soon he forgot the whole thing and went back to his teacherly duties.

“So... Beatrice.” I said as soon as he was in his office. The kids went to their projects, sanding and operating the machines. “What’s the deal with the teacher?” I asked as an icebreaker.

“Um?” She said quickly stashing her phone. “Teacher? Was he looking?” Her eyes were wide with worry. “I can’t get my phone taken away again, my mom would kill me!” She then realized it was just me. “Oh hey Holmes!” She smiled big.

“I was wondering why all the teachers were so happy go lucky. It’s the middle of the year, shouldn’t they be hating on the students by now?”

“The thing with Greenville is that it’s the happiest town on earth! So everyone’s happy! Personally I don’t really give a crap about all that happy stuff, but I do like to think of myself as a positive person” She paused scratching her head. “... sorta.. I’m still working on it.” She added thoughtfully. “Where did you live before moving here?” She asked changing the topic.

“Canada.” I said. “It’s all maple syrup and moose tracks up where I lived.” I made moose antlers with my hands. “Canadians aren’t as polite as many people think.” I added again.

“A Canadian in America, well, I guess you came to the right place!” A new voice said from behind me.

I turned around. The pink haired girl from the bus stood with her hands on her hips and a smile on her face. These people smiled way too much.

“I’m Cathy, you’re Holmes, right?” She said putting her hand in mine, and shaking roughly. “Welcome to Greenville!” She took her hand back and found a place beside me, taking a small wooden cross out of her pocket.

“What’s that?” I asked pointing to it. It was so small, it couldn’t have been her project.

“It’s my project silly, I’m making a wooden necklace, with big beads. This is the center piece.” She grabbed a sandpaper scrap from the pile in the middle of the bench and began to sand the rough edges. “You should probably talk to the teachers so you can start yours, I can help you with the machines.” She said that more like an order then a question.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” I got up and headed towards the teachers office. MR. DONOVAN hung over the top of the door. I opened a crack and then knocked twice. “Mr. Donovan?” I asked shakily.

“Yes? Oh!” His face lit up as soon as he saw me. “Holmes! What a pleasure, how may I help you?” He sat on his chair, placing a hand on his chin, propping his head up.