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She runs her hands down her shirt for the fifteenth time since arriving at school. She’s been dreading it for weeks so she had tried to smile big as Martin had dropped her off this morning. The man that had been their driver for years being the one to wish her well instead of her parents. She smoothes her shirt down again attempting to take the bitterness down with it as she walks into the front doors for the office.
There’s a woman staring at a computer screen and a man staring at his lap sitting opposite one another in this fluorescently bathed room. Neither look up as she enters the room so she shuffles her feet slightly, “Good morning, I’m supposed to be meeting with Father Vincent?”
The man, beard greying, eyebrows slightly furrowed, glasses sitting on his nose, looks her up and down before settling back into his chair, “You must be Beatrice.” He opens a drawer on his desk, fumbling through it, producing a sheet of paper he passes to her and he gestures to a small stack of books near the door. “I’m sorry, we don't have a student working in the office this morning. I’m sure you can find your way. Your first class will assign you a locker.” He points vaguely to the left and his eyes settle on the book in front of him again.
She nods a few times, “That’s all?” She lingers in the doorway, hoping that someone will offer something up, but neither of them look at her again. “Thanks.” And she spins on her heel to walk in the direction he had pointed.
She stares at the signs listing classroom numbers and doesn’t even see the numbers listed on her schedule. Is there another building? Her last school had 8 buildings and she got lost consistently for the first week. She huffs and takes a deep breath in, focusing on trying to not allow herself to be bested by this small thing in her day.
The bell had rung out a few minutes ago now, and the hallways were basically empty as everyone darted into classrooms as she walked. She passes the same cork board advertising sports try-outs for the third time in only a few minutes and groans. She glances down at her watch, it’s already 10 minutes past 8. She’s late to her first class, on the first day at a new school, at the third new school in three years! Her parents, always absolutely god awful with timing, had moved them here an entire month after everyone else had started.
She stares at the board looking at flyers for football, soccer, and finally cheerleading knowing that she’d be at that try-out tomorrow since it was the closest thing to gymnastics she could do at this school. And since her mother insisted she participate in the school sponsored sports, she had sighed and given in like she always does. Because it’s easier. When she’d been told they were moving here she had argued for the rival school since they had a gymnastics program but the religious counterpart, The St. Areala’s Crusaders won out, of course.
Her parents were already busy getting involved in the local politics so she’d probably be eating alone tonight or perhaps with Martin if he pitied her enough after school. It was all shaping up to be a fantastic day where she would probably lay in bed tonight staring at her ceiling wishing she was anywhere else. She looks down at the schedule in her hands again with newfound determination and swivels on the ball of her foot in hopefully the correct direction when her bad day takes a turn.
She connects with a solid body as her books go flying across the floor. She sighs loudly and drops to her knees to gather them up, not even bothering to look at who she’s just ran into. She doesn’t care, her mind still reeling from the abysmal plans she has for her evening. But they’re on their knees too as she looks up, this girl is sputtering an apology as she sweeps everything into a pile between them.
Beatrice is met with sparkly brown eyes and a dashing smile. The girl turns her head to the side, much like a dog might do.
“What?” Beatrice says, cutting the girl off.
She sputters out another few half-formed words, before sliding her books towards her and throwing a hand in her direction.
“I’m Ava, and I forget just how clumsy I can be when I’m rushing. Some of the guys say I should put ‘Clumsy’ on my jersey instead of Silva, it’s a miracle they let me play football, isn’t it?” She laughs, “Anyways, I’m rambling, oh, shoot, that might be my second middle name. Ava ‘Clumsy Rambler’ Silva.” She gestures with her hands like she’s picturing it on the back of a jersey. “Again, I’m sorry for that.” She, Ava, says, with a smile and gesturing down to her things and extending her hand again.
Beatrice takes a second to really take Ava in. She has a scar above her eyebrow, her smile is a little crooked, and her eyes are enchanting. She’s wearing a cheesy looking letterman jacket straight out of an eighties movie and black beat up converse shoes. Beatrice looks down at the hand being extended to her. Looks Ava back in the eye, and shakes it.
“Beatrice.”
Shock is written all over Ava’s face for a moment, “No fucking way, you’re that girl JC was talking about! Lee, right?”
Beatrice furrows her brows and gathers her books up in her arms. Her parents' reputation often precedes her, conservative politicians and all. She’s been bullied plenty in the past and had a roster of fake friends a mile long. She wasn’t about to let some stupid jock ruin her first day. She pushes up from where she’s sitting and starts making her way down the hall in the opposite direction.
“Wait! Beatrice!” Ava calls after her and she can hear heavy foot fall approaching.
A hand is grabbing her arm, and she spins around swiping Ava’s feet right out from under her. Using her momentum against her just like she’s been taught and pins her to the ground. Shock is once again written all over Ava’s face, and well, Beatrice wasn’t always great with facial expressions but she swears there’s a hint of fascination, maybe?
Ava’s hands go up in defense as Beatrice stands over her, pinning her there with her knee.
She stutters, “we have chemistry together. I saw your schedule. It’s with Salvius, it’s the other way,” Ava squeaks as her cheeks heat up, and she points with her hand.
Beatrice huffs and gets off of Ava before extending a hand to help her up.
“Why would you grab me?”
“Do you usually tackle and sit on people thirty seconds after meeting them?” Ava is rubbing the back of her head where it had hit the floor.
“Do you usually get that flustered thirty seconds after meeting someone?” Beatrice shoots back.
“Usually? No. But it seems I’m making an exception today,” Ava winks.
Beatrice groans as she follows behind when Ava takes off in a quick walk. They reach a door decorated in cheesy cut outs of different chemistry glassware and chemical names that Ava bursts through with practiced ease.
All eyes fall on them as they walk into the classroom. Beatrice straightens her spine, almost to the point of hyperextension as Ava throws a peace sign up at their teacher. “Sorry we’re late Doc!”
The stern looking blonde woman puts a hand in front of Ava’s chest to prevent her from walking further into the room. “Do you have a note, Ava?” She extends her hand outstretched towards them as Ava smiles sheepishly.
“I was trying to schedule my tests for the semester but the student teacher in Miss Carpenter's class didn’t have any…”
“So you’re tardy again, Miss Silva?”
Ava looks down at her feet, shrinking a little in size as she chews at her lip, “Well I guess—”
It tumbles from Beatrice’s mouth before she can stop it, “Ava is trying to save me from the embarrassment that I couldn’t find your class on my first day, but she was very helpful, my name is Beatrice. I’m new.” She bows her head slightly towards their teacher.
Dr. Salvius’ eyes flit between the two of them. Ava’s hands are shoved deep into her pockets as she sways slightly forward and back but Beatrice can feel her side-eyeing her.
Dr. Salvius hums, “very well, please be seated. And lucky you Miss Lee, you’ve already met your lab partner for the semester.”
They make their way back to the back of the classroom where a boy is snickering as Ava approaches and shoves at him.
“Is there a problem Ava and JC?”
“No ma’am,” they spit out in unison and then Ava sits and pats the seat next to her, that goofy grin plastered across her face again.
“Thanks for saving my ass, Bea.” It comes out barely audible, an inch from her ear.
“It was the truth, you did help me.”
Ava hums, “You’re welcome then,” she says it smilingly, seemingly always smiling and then she settles into her chair.
Beatrice is thankful that Dr. Salvius doesn’t make her introduce herself as she pulls out her notebook from her small bag. She begins to write down what is being written out on the board and her nerves settle a little at the routine of it all. At least this part was more or less the same.
She had been told ahead of time that she may be ahead of the current curriculum than her last school. And as she writes down the elements they’re discussing today she realizes she’s probably further ahead than she had even began to anticipate and lets her attention stray from the board to her surroundings. She’s thankful they’re sitting in the back so can view some of her classmates without much attention being drawn to her.
It’s a good mix of people, and most of them are all really listening to Dr. Salvius as she teaches. Her mind wanders slightly thinking of Julie and her old bedroom as the sun begins to filter into the classroom she thinks of laying together doing school work in the small patch of sunlight that would come in from the window every afternoon. Why did her parents have to come home the one and only time she had — a small huff brings her back to the present.
Beatrice is impressed with how much is being written as Ava leans over her notebook, but as she leans back she can see that Ava isn’t taking notes at all. She’s doodling. Beatrice leans closer, “You don’t take notes?”
“Nah,” she whispers but doesn’t lift her eyes from the crude doodle of a superhero of some kind that’s taking form on her paper.
“Kind of typical of a jock, no?” She gestures to Ava’s notebook.
Ava’s eyes lift then, a grin on her face, “Yeah, typical jock stuff.” Then she huffs again as she goes back to her drawing.
The class isn’t long but the superhero on Ava’s paper has taken better shape and climbed several buildings, taking out at least one monster as Dr. Salvius wraps things up teaching. She takes a stack of papers from her desk, setting them on the corner of the other students desks, “The average for this quiz was seventy-eight percent, the highest score was a ninety-nine and that person will be exempt from the next quiz, but as usual if you scored under a seventy and would like to retake it you are more than welcome to, please just let me know.”
“Beatrice, JC, JC, Beatrice,” Ava gestures between her and the boy sitting across from them.
He’s tall, muscular, and has a crude mustache that isn’t filled in all the way sat atop his lip that she stares at as he talks, “Hey, so you’re the one trying out for the team tomorrow, right?”
Beatrice furrows her brows, “I’m trying out for cheerleading.”
Ava laughs, “Beatrice, meet one of the bases for the squad.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I had assumed—” she gestures with her hands in lieu of explanation because she doesn’t really have one.
“No worries, Beatrice, I get that a lot.” He says, saving her from stumbling any further.
“You seem to do that a lot, huh, Bea?” Ava grins as JC chuckles under his breath.
Beatrice slumps back into her seat letting the nickname bounce around in her skull as Dr. Salvius nears the back of the classroom. Ava’s back is turned to her talking to JC as Dr. Salvius sets her quiz down. Bright red pen in the top corner catches her eye; two 9’s side by side and a star sticker stuck to the page. Her mouth drops open, and Ava catches her gawking.
Ava smirks, sliding the paper into her notebook, “typical jock stuff, right Bea?”