Alive Again: Awakening (Book 1)

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It was just after lunch on a Wednesday, and we were all ready for a nap. I didn't actually have to go to the restroom, but I'd decided to take a field trip out into the hall, so I didn't fall asleep in the middle of class. I was sure Mrs. Burns wouldn't mind.

    The bathroom wasn't any different than the last time I'd come in here. It still smelled horrible. At this point, the air freshener above the paper towel dispenser was just for show, seeing as how it'd run out of spray about 3 months ago. Someone had left their clothes in here again, and as always, no one had elected to come back for them, or at least transport them to the Lost & Not Yet Found in room 421.

    Paned with translucent church glass and adorned with dead bugs, the windows allowed a few beams of sunlight into the room. If you were as desperate for a distraction as I was (or somewhat to horribly visually impaired), you might have observed, in a distorted sense, that the room seemed to be lined with four confessional booths. Real confessional booths likely didn't smell as ungodly as these stalls did, the understanding of which helped me conclude a few minutes later that it was time to end my field trip and get back to class.

    I figured I could at least take my own sweet time getting there. Of course, if anyone caught me taking a nice long deep breath in between every step, I'd be in trouble, but that was a risk I was willing to take. I stepped out into the hallway, fresh uncontaminated air embracing me. I was headed across the hall when the squeal of the stairwell doors opening caught my attention.

    One thought went through my head: Why the hell was a teenage boy walking down the hall of Pearson Prep School for Girls at one o' clock in the afternoon? He definitely wasn't the new exchange student from Turkey.

    For a second, I just stared at him, blinking. I had a few male teachers, but he certainly wasn't one of them. Sometimes we imported guys from other schools to be in drama productions, but all rehearsals took place after school hours. It wasn't Bring A Friend To School day, and even if it had been, we weren't allowed to bring boys. Grandparents Day/ Special Friends day hadn't passed yet, and even so, it was special friends day. Not super hot friends day. 

    I turned my head in the other direction, hoping Mrs. Roebuck, head of admissions, would come down the hall with her open-house voice, welcoming the boy inside. But where the hell could he be going? Unless Mr. Dever had taken it upon himself, bless his soul, to let us finally draw a live, breathing, gorgeous subject for the first five minutes of Art I, something was clearly wrong with this situation.

    It occurred to me then that the boy at the end of the hall was making eye contact. My heart began to jig in my chest. This was getting weirder and weirder. I took a step back, prepared to run. He arrived in front of me in seconds. Fast was an understatement. He was half a head taller, looking down at me intently. My heart was really thundering now, and my legs felt like Jell-O.

    I was glued to the spot.