Classroom Affair - Chapter 1

Swoosh. Swoosh.

The brush tried for the hundredth time to slide through the morning bramble that was Shannon’s hair. “Ouch!”

“What’s wrong?” Her mother asked, setting down her worn mug of Taster’s Choice coffee.

“The tangle from Hell, that’s what’s wrong! I swear I’m getting closer to just shaving the whole thing off. No more hair, no more problems.” Shannon pouted, practically flinging the brush from her hand.

“Hang on. Let’s see what can be done before we resort to GI Jane.” Kathy’s gentle hands worked their way through the dreadlock forming in her daughter’s hair. “Okay, we’ll spritz some water and then close our eyes and go for it.”

With a resolved inhale, Shannon slammed her eyes shut and gripped onto the mahogany dresser. Kathy took hold of the vines of hair and worked the brush like a gardener with a machete, each stroke gaining territory.

The whimper that threatened to escape her lips, stayed locked between clenched teeth. “Is it done? Is it done?”

“Okay, almost there… and… done!”

Shannon slipped a hand back to feel the smooth hair that seemed impossible moments earlier. “Wonder of the wonders, miracle of miracles. Thanks Mom.”

“If you used the conditioner, I bought you, we wouldn’t have to go through this every morning.”

Shannon rolled her eyes. “It makes my hair oily. I look like the chick from the Ring.”

Kathy matched her daughter’s exasperation. “Now you’re just being dramatic. It’s better than having to rip out your hair. You have to agree with me on that.”

“I agree on nothing! I’d rather suffer through the pain. My pale skin already makes me look like I crawled out of a grave. I don’t need to add to the image.”

There was a snort of laughter, as maternal arms wrapped around her. “You aren’t a corpse. You are a beautiful girl and do you know why?”

“Cosmo magazine and makeup tutorials?”

Kathy planted a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Because we love you and God loves you.”

Shannon’s smile subdued. “Yeah. I gotta go. Bye, Mom.”

Kathy’s arms felt empty when her daughter’s warmth left them. Even though she sorely felt it, she managed a smile she hoped was authentic.

Shannon threw her backpack into the passenger seat of the low-riding black Honda and waved back, speeding down the driveway.

A little too quickly for Kathy’s taste.

Her heart ached, when she remembered for the umpteenth time, this was the last year she would see her daughter off to school. How did she grow up so fast?

With a sigh that came from deep within, she slumped into her favorite chair and grabbed her now lukewarm cup of coffee.

~~~

Shannon turned up the volume on the stereo and sang along to the same playlist she did every morning, as she twisted around the dangerous corners of the country roads.

Waking up early wasn’t her strong-suit. It was cruel to expect young minds to function at this ungodly hour.

Anytime the sky was like this, the rhyme her grandpa always said came to mind. “Red sky, sailor’s fright. Pink sky, sailor’s delight.”

Good information, not that Shannon was going to be a sailor any time soon. Despite living near the ocean her entire life, she was terrified of water. No one knew what lurked in the depths and she had no desire to find out.

This was likely due to her brother forcing her to watch Jaws when she was five. She respected sharks and their job in the sea, but that didn’t mean her dangling legs had to be on the menu.

She pushed the button to roll down her window, which always stuck halfway, and slid her hand out to test the air.

It was going to be a warm day.

The sun so rarely shown on the coast of Washington, there was a reason every single vampire novel seemed to revolve around it. But there were no Edwards or Jacobs, not even a Lestat to satisfy her tastes, just boring boys with nothing more than football or video games on their minds.

Not that there were any real need to go outside anyway. If it wasn’t raining, it was cold and the cloud-cover never seemed to break for more than a few minutes at a time. The lack of sunshine, and what she was sure was probably a Vitamin D deficiency, left Shannon with her previously lamented pale skin, made even more striking by her tomato-red hair.

Brown, black, burgundy, she tried to dye her hair any other color and through sheer dark magic, it somehow managed to look worse. The unfortunate incident with the blonde weekend made her want to crawl into a hole and hide. Alas, her red hair was there to stay, no matter how she may wish otherwise.

A loud announcement broke her thoughts of self-pity and she reached to turn the volume down, but the voice stayed her hand.

With a smile, she listened to the familiar cadence of her father, waking up the town of Myrtle Shores with his morning playlist.

“Gooooood morning Myrtle! This is your friendly neighborhood announcer Michael O’Ryan bringing you the news of the coast! Today is the day when our kids are going back to school!”

There was an insert of the song, “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” which made Shannon scoff.

“Yes, yes, I am among the parents who will be biting my nails, counting the hours and saving up the money for my daughter’s final days at Myrtle Shores high school. They grow up so fast. Right now, she’s probably rolling her eyes and cursing my name. Daddy loves you, baby! Now that I’ve fully embarrassed her, on with the morning tunes.”

Shannon sighed and indeed rolled her eyes at her father’s ability to not have to be physically present to humiliate her. There must be some kind of Olympics for fathers to join to mock their children. If such an event existed, her dad would receive a gold medal, no questions asked, no judging needed.

She slowed from the speed limit of CS or “common sense” by the outlanders, to 25 mph and laid eyes on the sleepy town of Myrtle Shores.

Nothing ever happened in this place. The same people smiled and waved to one another, the same shops opened, the same restaurants made the same dishes, with no change to the menu in fifty years.

Small town life was meant to be a nursery or a nursing home. Most of the residents had seen the outside world and retreated back to what they knew was safe. Why worry about traveling or setting up in a new place, when everything you needed in life was right there? Why shouldn’t you marry your high school sweetheart, work in the shop his parents owned and pop out little brainwashed hellions to continue the cycle? Makes perfect sense.

Shannon pulled up to the town’s solitary traffic light, which flickered on and off, given the weather. It seemed like this would be one of the days it would actually work and she waited for it to turn green, despite the fact that no other cars were present.

After what seemed like longer than a traffic light should take, her car puttered its way into the school’s parking lot and slid into the space which was all her own.

As a senior, she earned specific, hard-won rights, i.e. cutting in the lunch line, being able to leave campus and, of course, her own parking spot, which she decorated with a large treble clef painted in glitter.

Such things may have seemed trivial to the naked eye, but to her, they were a crucial mark in her status as an adult.

College was calling and she had every intention to heed.

“About time, O’Ryan!”

When the hand whapped her window, Shannon jumped off the seat, nearly spilling the to-go mug of coffee in her hand. Her gaze met the curl of brown hair vibrating outside her car.

She threw it into park and sneered at her friend through the car door. “You’re so lucky I have a lid on this cup, dude.”

Shannon grabbed her backpack and stood up to tower over the smaller girl, who wore an outfit she expected would get her sent home by the end of the day.

Iris twirled around to show off her ensemble of choppy black skirts, fish nets and matching shirt with the words. “We are not schizophrenic….” written in red.

After completing her ballet spin, she placed her hands on her hips and beamed. “Subtle, understated and completely psychotic. I couldn’t have asked for a better first day outfit!”

“Did your mom see it before you left?”

Iris place a hand to her chin. “You know it’s the strangest thing. When I left the house, I was wearing the most darling sundress she picked out. Weird how it transformed like this huh? Must be one of those optical illusions.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it is.”

They walked to their lockers, Iris chatting away about the appalled gasps she received that day, carefully tallied in her phone.

“Soooo, did you hear about the new guy?” She pressed, as Shannon struggled with the door of a twenty-year-old locker.

“There’s a new guy? What sick parent would bring their kid to this town willingly?”

With a fierce tug, she pulled the metal door open and examined the stuck lock, while Iris twisted the combo beneath her. “It’s not a new student! It’s a new teacher and apparently he is all kinds of smexy.”

“Smexy?” Shannon asked, placing her collection of novels neatly in her stubborn locker.

Iris smiled wide. “Yeah, smoking sexy, Smexy. I haven’t seen him yet, but that’s the word buzzing around.”

With a final slam of the disagreeable door, Shannon pulled out her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Sounds like fake news to me.”

Both girls made their way to the gym for orientation, exchanging stories of their summers. Iris spent hers working the family ranch, while Shannon stayed locked away with scholarship essays. If she were indeed leaving this town, it would have to be at the hands of some wealthy alumnus who’d take pity on her. There was no way her parents saved enough for a proper university.

Even so, she didn’t think of it as a waste. Some crap about working hard and it paying off and whatever else she needed to tell herself. It almost made the lie bearable.

She was just about to comment on Iris’s story about their new Arabian, when she was suddenly struck in the back and nearly stumbled off her feet. “Watch it, freak!”

Rubbing her bruised shoulder, Shannon bent down to pick up her purse and brushed off the dust on her skirt.

Just ignore them. You’re out of this place soon.

She rolled her eyes and tried to move forward, while Iris publicly displayed her opinion of Jeff Bern, Rick Lang and Hugo Hoffman, by extending her painted-black finger and yelling obscenities about the size of their anatomies.

Shannon slapped hand over her friend’s mouth. “Let’s not start your senior year in detention.”

The disgruntled pixie stared up at her, sliding her hand away with a wicked smile. “Aw come on, Miller probably has my seat polished and ready for my butt to be reunited with it. I missed the old guy over the summer.”

“Maybe, but please don’t do it on my account.”

“Who else is going to defend your honor? These guys deserve to have their ass checked and you won’t ever do it yourself!”

She shuffled her irate friend up to the bleachers, which proudly displayed their colors of black and red. Her green eyes scanned the crowd of faces, each one familiar, each she had watched grow and change since kindergarten, minus the new freshmen class.

There were all of her classmates from Amanda Ferlis, who was distracted with her tongue down her boyfriend’s throat. Joel Martin, who had stolen Jake Grim’s inhaler and played keep away with the bullies she had seen in the hallway.

Jenny Gardener, who tried for the umpteenth time to apply her eyeliner by her phone’s screen, only to find it smudged yet again.

While Iris laughed and caught the inhaler before it hit her head, Shannon pulled the book she always had hidden in her cloth-purse out and opened the faded pages with a content sigh.

Stephen King’s, “The Green Mile” weighed heavily on her lap, the familiar heft an always present comfort.

John Coffeey had just restored Mr. Jingles back to mousey perfection, when a voice silenced the murmur of no more than two hundred teenagers. “Good morning, students! Welcome to another year of high school. A very special welcome to our freshmen who are joining us. Go Wolf Pack!”

The principal, Mrs. Luknee, raised her arms, only to receive a bare splattering of applause. Her eyes scanned the crowd of unenthused students and the awkward response filled her cheeks, as she lowered her arms and cleared her throat.

She motioned to the staff, who were waiting in the folded chairs behind her. “As some of you may have noticed, we have a new teacher on staff this year. Mrs. Depote turned in her retirement and I know her absence will be felt, but I want you to ban together and make our newest addition feel at home. Let’s give a warm welcome to Mr. Thompson!”

There was a slightly more enthusiastic, but still painfully quiet, applause.

Iris whistled low and bumped Shannon with her elbow. “Get a look at him. For once the rumors are true.”