Grey Eyes: Book One of the Forever Trilogy

Chapter Eleven

Mrs. Moorer nodded her approval.  “You’re always so helpful, London.”  She tilted her head in my direction.  “You’re lucky to have such a model student showing you around.  I’ll take you from here.”

Lucky?  I felt like I had just been kicked in the stomach.  Twice.  As Mrs. Moorer guided me through the auditorium doors, I could feel London’s eyes boring into the back of my head.  I was sure her innocent smile had faded by now, and no part of me wanted to face her again. 

The auditorium was enormous, with a large balcony overhead, a long wooden stage at the bottom, and crazed teenagers as far as I could see.  Mrs. Moorer shook her head.  “Sometimes I could really use a few tranquilizer darts.”

I forced a smile.  London’s words still had my mind spinning.

“Anyway,” she continued.  “You seem much too calm to be a freshman.  Transfer student?”

I nodded.

“Let me take a look at your schedule.  Hmm, a junior, huh?  Looks like you’ll be having me for Collegiate Calculus this semester.”

Calculus?  Great, that is more bad news.  It must have registered on my face because she laughed.  "I’m kidding.  You only have me for Algebra II.  You know you should really take a look at this thing we call a schedule.”

This time my smile was more sincere. 

She pointed me toward the corner of the auditorium reserved for “newly transferred” upperclassmen. Unfortunately, what these students made up for in maturity, they severely lacked in friendliness.  Most of them wouldn’t even turn to see who was passing them in the aisle.  I didn’t mind; after my experience with London, I was in no mood for any human contact.  I took a seat at the end of the row, right next to the wall of the auditorium, and watched as Mrs. Moorer untangled a pair of arguing girls a dozen rows beneath me.

Half an hour later, I was still waiting; the only things circulating inside my brain were thoughts of London and Darren.  Was it any wonder he’d found me a disappointment? Had my return forced their breakup?

Snickers interrupted my thoughts.  I looked up to find a freckle-faced girl in a wide brown cowboy hat stumbling for the empty seat just beneath me.  A boy blocked her with his arm.  “Sorry, that’s my girlfriend’s seat.  She just went to use the bathroom.”

“Oh sorry,” she said with a thick southern accent.  More snickers.  I could tell that she was just becoming aware that she was the butt of everyone’s joke because a deep crimson flooded her cheeks.  She scanned over the faces in our section until she settled on mine.  When she saw my shirt, her eyes got big. 

“You can sit next to me,” I offered before she could ask.  She literally jumped in the air. Yikes.

Once she’d settled comfortably into the seat next to mine, she reached over and took hold of my hand.  “Name’s Taylor Prescott, moved up here from Austin,” she said, giving my hand a good shake. 

“Austin…Texas?” I asked.  Stupid question.

“Yep, home of the Texas Longhorns.  Hook’em horns!”  She laughed.

“So I guess you’re pretty set on where you want to go to college then, huh?”

She smiled and nodded enthusiastically.  I noticed that there wear tears on her face.

“Your crying…”

She wiped her face hurriedly.  “Oh, sorry.  I don’t know why I get so emotional these days.  Well, that’s not true.  I do know.  Daddy won custody after the divorce and—I’m sorry, you don’t wanna hear about my messed up family.  Where are you from?  I can tell that you’re a southern girl like me, you’ve got just the teeny tiniest little pinch of an accent.”