Music from: Faster Now
"Welcome to Glenndale High School, home of the Stingrays. We hope your years here will be memorable." Ivy Lancaster smiled. "Well? How's that? Too chipper? Too giddy? Too eager?"
Lornie winced. "Why do you even want to be on the Welcome Wagon committee anyway?"
Ivy shrugged, pushing her blonde hair over her shoulder. "It's a nice thing to do. Don't you think? And the NHS really looks fondly upon that kind of stuff for candidates."
"But it's so slow."
They stood at the juncture of hallways that made a hub of H-connections near the main office and counselors' offices. Thronging in from the front entry doors were 200 students, the last of the bus route, all rushing or trudging to first hour classes.
"We only get new students what? Half a dozen times a year?" Lornie smiled and did a little finger wave to a tall, lanky boy walking by.
Ivy followed her gaze as Jeremy Daniels wove out of sight with the other students. "Then I get first look-see of the new stock." She giggled. "Never hurts to see what new blood we've got to choose from, right?"
Lornie looked at her with shock, brown eyes wide. "Ivybelle Lancaster. Stock? Is that how you view boys? Mere objects?"
"Oh, don't go all preachy on me." A blush rose from Ivy's neck to her cheeks. "We've got to start somewhere here. We're freshmen, Lornie. Three junior highs pour students into this high school. That's about 900 students. We'll get lost in the shuffle if we don't assert ourselves."
"You? Assert yourself?" Lornie gave a throaty laugh. "Yeah, Ivy the Mighty."
"Maybe not mighty, but . . . maybe just not a wallflower this year." She sent a wistful gaze out across the students milling the hall. "All the good ones will be gone if we don't move fast. Not all of us have a built-in love interest from the summer."
Lornie's attention snapped to where Jeremy had last been seen. "Yeah . . ." She shrugged. "At least I didn't stalk my interest like Camille did."
"He was a slippery one, wasn't he? The rare Vohn spotting in Rasperville." Ivy smoothed her long hair from her face and slipped her purse strap higher on her shoulder. "Anyway, an early look-see never hurts."
"I never thought about it that way." Lornie smiled and waved at the front entrance. "There's Camille now. I'm going to first hour with her. You coming?"
Ivy shook her head. "There's a new student in the counselor's office. My turn to greet." She smiled widely. "A boy."
Lorni's attention shot back to her. "Oh?"
"Freshman. Maybe in some of our classes."
"I guess you do get first look. Okay, I'll catch you in third hour."
"Bye." Ivy watched her meet up with Camille Anderson, the third spoke in their triangle of childhood friends. They were the blonde, the redhead, and the brunette; usually Camille was blonde, too, but since seventh grade, she'd gone dark, keeping her fair roots a shade of brown. Ivy headed to the counselor's office to meet with the rest of the Welcome Wagon and their new student.
Counselor McMerkin was out, so it was just three other students in the cozy blue and burgundy office.
Ivy closed the door behind her, a ready smile on her face. "Hi."
Maeve Gretels stood at the counselor's desk, sleek in her black graphic T-shirt dotted with a constellation in glittery aurora borealis seed beads and jeans fitting snugly over her curvy figure. She wore a knowing smile, her clear complexion framed by wavy, deep brunette hair holding violet undertones, a small purse held by a brassy bronze chain from her shoulder. Ivy had never seen Maeve any less than perfectly put together in the three weeks since school started. Maeve had been present during the freshman Welcome Wagon three-day workshop last August.
"Hi," returned the other Welcome Wagon team member in the room.
Ivy kept her smile in place and nodded at Damon Rogers. As a junior and more senior member of the team, she knew Damon would probably get first dibs on showing the new kid around.
"Hey, sweetheart."
Ivy's senses perked up at the male voice. She turned around, finding herself face to face with the new student.
He slouched in the chair, smirking at her with an unspoken arrogance that needed no words. His black hair was combed back, but a few belligerent strands had fallen over his dark brows, his green-to-blue eyes holding Ivy's stare of wonder. He was layered in black T-shirt and black leather vest and Levi jeans, one shoulder lifted as he rested his elbow on the chair armrest.
Ivy giggled a bit and blushed, watching him grin. "Hi. Are you the new student?"
"Sure am." His eyes dropped over her, head to chest, then lower, to her skirt's hem, and then languidly lifted to meet her blue gaze. "Welcome to you, too, yeah."
"Enough with the pleasantries," Maeve said. "Ivy, this is Dred Jacobin. He's a freshman and new to Glenndale High and Rasperville. Dred, this is Ivy, in your grade here." She looked to Damon. "Guess Ivy can handle this one."
Dred chuckled.
Ivy resisted a new blush.
Maeve's tone grew icy. "So you can leave, Damon."
First hour bell rang through the school of 900 students.
"I'll need a hall pass," Damon said. He pushed his glasses back on his nose, his sandy blond hair in a thick shag over his face. "Mrs. Bruck—"
"Tell her you were with me for the Welcome Wagon." Maeve smiled.
"But she—"
"Will accept." Maeve nodded to the door. "Don't worry about it, Damon."
Damon nodded slowly and lifted a hand. "See you later, Ivy. Dred."
"Later, daddio," Dred said.
Ivy stared at Dred as the door closed.
"Dred is transferring in from Canada. He's a little out of the loop," Maeve said as he put his boots up on the desk across from him, sufficiently blocking her off from Ivy. "He's being held back a year from his old school," Maeve added, wiping his feet off the desk with a quick flick of her hand. "He's got some catching up to do."
Dred jolted as his boots hit the low-carpet floor. He scowled at her.
"Because he couldn't keep up, most likely," Maeve said with a saccharine smile for Ivy.
"Oh, remedial classes?" Ivy offered.
"Now wait a minute. I don't need—" he began.
"Hopefully it's not that much of a case," Maeve said, smiling more fully at Ivy. "Since he's in your grade," she said, grabbing a manila folder from the desk and thumbing through it, "I guess he can tag around with you for the day." She pulled out two pieces of paper and handed them to her. "Class schedule, petty info on Dredge."
"Dred," he said.
"Dred." Maeve watched Ivy glance through the pages. "Let him figure out his locker combination on his own. A small test of his reading and comprehension ability." Before he could speak, she turned on him. "Ivy is in your grade, not your class. Get that through your head right now, hotshot. She's a nice girl and has friends here, so hands off."
He blinked twice and slowly stood up.
Ivy looked far up at him. Nearly six feet, she estimated.
Maeve turned to her, as if reading her mind. "It's mostly boots, Ivy."
Ivy couldn't help but look down to Dred's feet. Yes, the boots did add several inches.
Maeve opened the door and nodded to it, smiling. "Off we go. If you need any help, Ivy, let me know." She handed Dred a paper. "Dred, welcome to Rasperville and Glenndale High. May you graduate in peace."
The door closed behind Ivy and Dred once they were in the hall and when she looked back, Maeve stood leaning against the office doorframe, her arms crossed over her beaded chest. Ivy couldn't quite read her expression—something between criticism and doubt.
"First, I think we should find your locker," Ivy decided, smiling up at Dred.
He tore his eyes from Maeve's pointed stare. "Yeah, that." He opened the folded paper Maeve had given him.
"This way." Ivy stepped off down the side hallway that met the hub. "All the freshman lockers are down here."
"Yours, too?" He grinned when she nodded over her shoulder at him.
"The school is pretty basic," she said when he caught up with her and fell into step. "It's old, even for our county. Everything on the first and second floor is at right angles. Lot of the town has roots in European Old Countries, like Poland, Germany, Bulgaria, Russia. The official town dish is sauerkraut and kielbasa with pickled beets and pierogi on the side."
"That should work." He looked high up at the dome high overhead. "Basic, yeah? What about the upper levels?"
She followed his gaze, taking in the spectacular sight. Overhead rose four stories of Jacobean Revival architecture, topped by the Byzantium-influenced dome spreading atop the arched stonework. The school walls were sable and deep amber tones, but the dome was lined with brass and bronze trim, the windows set with thick beveled glass. It was a style that ran through some of the older buildings in town. "Those vary," she said, head tilted to take in the magnificent sunlight glinting in from the autumn day. "The top is mostly angles, but the third floor has some usable space."
"Yeah?" His arm nudged her shoulder. "You go up there much?"
She glanced to him, swallowing quickly at the way he grinned at her without really smiling. It was in his eyes, something dark and quick. Something, Lornie would say, that shouldn't be touched. "No." She hurried down the hallway as the class bell rang out. "Wow, first hour gone already. Come on. There's nothing on the upper levels anyway."
"Very regal." His long arm swept up the side of the green and brown lockers set into the brick walls as they entered the freshman hall. "All this old building stuff."
She nodded. "Character. Old buildings have character."
"And ghosts."
She shook her head and laughed, watching him chuckle. "No," she said, searching the locker numbers as students crowded through the halls. "No ghosts here."
He leaned close to her ear. "You should make some."
She bristled at his cool breath on her neck. She looked up at him.
He laughed. "You look like you've seen one now, Ivy."
She dropped her gaze back to the lines of lockers that made up the freshman hall. "So . . ." She looked at the paper he held. "Locker 417." She pointed ahead to the left. "That should be near the corner."
"So what is it? Ivy . . .? Ivy what?"
"Ivybelle Lancaster."
"Ah, so proper sounding." He stood straighter. "Ivy-belle of the House Lancaster." He chuckled. "Very proper. Got a boyfriend, Ivybelle?"
"It's just Ivy. No one calls me Ivybelle." Except when they're mad or shocked at me, she thought, but didn't add that. "Just Ivy."
"Okay for now."
She led him through the shifting bodies of freshmen that had let out from class, wedging between four tall boys that represented the talent of last year's junior high basketball team. She ducked as one threw a bottle of water to another.
"Where's your locker?" Dred was at her side as she presented locker 417 against the brick wall. He leaned against the slim metal door as she reached for the combination lock. He grinned and caught her hand, moving it too low for the lock.
And too near his jeans pocket, she deemed. Her fingers curled in his grasp, her wrist automatically recoiling. "Uh, it's . . . it's over . . . over . . ." She cleared her throat and tried to pull her hand away.
His fingers tightened on her hand, smiling tauntingly at her as he positioned in front of her, tilting his head until he was eye level. "Let's skip this school intro thing and see the town instead. Show me around. I never been here before."
She was still looking into his eyes, caught in a stare that seemed deeper than black in their ultramarine-green depths, until she realized he'd moved her hand to rest on his jeans and his hand was sliding under her arm, snakelike to her elbow. Her mouth gaped as she saw her fingers close instinctively on his belt loop at his hip.
A shadow fell over them and a taller body was suddenly between them. "Going up." A hand whisked Ivy's arm away from Dred's belt loop and elbowed him into locker 418. He said to Dred through gritted teeth, "Don't handle the help."
Ivy looked far up.
Vohn Lugori was taller, a junior, and had been Camille's crush until two weeks ago. His moppish black hair fell over his brow, his quick dark eyes locked on Dred's fuming face as his shoulder brushed the shorter boy against the lockers again with a metallic scrunch.
"Hey," Dred said as Vohn's sleeve wiped the word from his mouth. Dred sidestepped and shoved Vohn's shoulder as the junior passed. "Get out of the way, man."
Ivy stepped back as a second round of lethal looks were exchanged. The hall fell quieter and the freshmen within six lockers made room for a potential confrontation.
Instead, Vohn tripped Dred's ankles out from him with a swift swoop of one Nike. There was a crash of flesh on metal and then a thud of Dred on the hardwood floor.
He leaped to his feet. "Hey!"
"Hands off."
Ivy watched Vohn continue walking on down the row of lockers.
"Hey!" Dred screamed at him.
"We're past that," Vohn said over his shoulder, not looking back.
A few girls giggled, a few boys laughed. Dred fumed a shade of angry red, glaring at Vohn's back until he was out of sight.
Ivy looked meekly back to him as the milling voices rose again in the hall. Her eyes narrowed. "My locker's around the corner. I'm not skipping school, Dred. I don't do that. Now, do you want help finding your class or not?"
Some of the color faded from his face as he fought for composure. "Who the hell does he think he is?"
She shrugged, picking the class schedule from his fist. "Vohn Lugori. Junior. Kind of quiet, but seems okay. If you want the full info dump on him, you'll have to ask Camille Anderson." She shot him a scowl. "But you have to be nice to her and no handy-pocket stuff, Dred. Whatever that was, we don't do it here." She shook the incident from her mind. She found his class schedule was firmly creased from his clench. "We've blown through first hour already. It's a short class anyway. You've got World History with Mrs. Reardon. We can walk together." She saw him wind up for a pun. "Don't fool with her name, Dred. Her husband is the wrestling coach."
He looked somewhat deflated, and then turned to the locker. "What's the cipher?"
She giggled. "No one calls them ciphers. Is that what they're called in Canada?"
He glanced at her. "Huh?"
"Canada. Is that what you call locker coms there?"
He nodded, turning back to the door. "Eh, yeah. Okay, go."
She leaned against the locker beside his, facing him, her voice dropping. "Ready?"
"Show me around town later."
She lowered the paper. "I'm with the Welcome Wagon, Dred. That's school."
He grinned, and she felt something trip in her mind.
"All right. School first." He gave the lock dial a whirl. "Fire away, Ivybelle."
The Vampire Zodiac … Introduction … More from Sakurapu … All Chapters
PG13. #YearOfTheVampire #vampire #dramady #highschool #YA #fiction #VampireZodiac
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