2Sophie Carson had known her school was going to become integrated. It had been on the news nonstop, and it was all anyone talked about for the past year as negotiations and plans were being made. Pamphlets had been sent home to remind everyone in the community of tolerance and acceptance, and community meetings were held for discussion. Sophie knew everything she needed to know about welcoming her new classmates. But now that the moment was finally here, that Penn Valley High School would be opening its doors to an integrated student body, Sophie felt a twinge of excitement and anxiety.
Everything looked much the same in the parking lot. Cars ranged from a 1980 Toyota to a brand new 2009 BMW. A few people Sophie knew waved at her or said hi. But she could feel the tension in the air and knew that everyone else was just as anxious as her to get inside the school, which was probably a first in the history of high schools.
Inside, the school was a tasteful mixture of red brick and green and white paint to represent Penn Valley's school colors. Sophie had walked through these halls for the past four years and would not be sad to leave them behind forever. She had just finished applying to the top five colleges she wanted to attend, as well as one or two safety schools.
But she could hardly spare a thought for knowing this would be the last first day of high school. She wanted to see the new students. She scanned each face she passed by, but they were all familiar ones, tanned from the summer sun. She wasn't quite sure what to expect. Oh sure she had seen John Havendish all over the news for as long as she could remember; he had pale and flawless skin, amazingly brilliant blue eyes, light blonde hair, nothing like what Hollywood and pop culture had created.
Sophie felt a tightening of anticipation in her chest as she walked to her locker to put her bag and notebooks away. She shut it quickly and whirled to head to the cafeteria, which was where all the students hung out before classes started at 7:30. She was surprised when she ran into something solid and staggered back a few steps. A boy was at the locker next to hers, and he looked over at her in surprise and hostility.
He was a new student.
With a great amount of willpower, Sophie looked him directly in the eyes, which were overwhelmingly blue and cold, and her palms began to tingle with sweat. "Sorry, I didn't see you," she said.
He scowled at her and slammed his locker shut. "Sure thing," he said.
"Look, I'm sorry! Really, I am! What else can I say?"
"Nothing," he growled as he strode away.
Sophie was left to gape at his retreating back. She swallowed her pride and her shock. She knew it must be hard to be a new student, a new official member of a community that had ostracized his people, humiliated, tortured, or even killed them. It could not be easy to trust or like the majority.
Sophie liked to think that she was a forward-thinking young woman, open-minded to new things. She had several gay friends, and no one blinked if you were black, white, Asian, or Indian. She didn't think a person's skin or sexual orientation made someone either better or worse than herself, a light-skinned, dark haired and blue eyed girl of upper-middle class suburbia. And in her mind, these new minorities of society were just as equal as anyone else.
"Integrate" was the only term that the nation's leaders could come up with in regards to this new movement, though it resurfaced many painful memories of the first integration of black students into white schools in the sixties and seventies. But this time around, almost fifty years later, a new race was being introduced that did not distinguish itself based on a different skin color or origins.
These new members of society had a medical condition and were very sensitive in referring to it, almost as sensitive as their skin and eyes were to intense sunlight. They had a blood deficiency. Their bodies could not retain enough water to sustain proper blood flow, thus causing various other problems, such as lack of minerals, proteins, and oxygen to their cells. They had undergone all of the traditional treatments, but by trial and error, they had discovered the only way to survive was drinking blood.
Immediately, the word "vampire" had sprung forth from people's lips. Many had read the myths and horror stories of vampires, who lusted after other humans' blood in cold murder or lustful confrontations. As long as the "blood deficient" society remained hidden in the shadows, they could remain in myth. Beginning in the early nineteen hundreds, they had decided they were tired of hiding and wanted normal lives. But as soon as they stepped forth into the light, society condemned them.
Without knowing anything else about them, society treated them as criminals. They were ghettoized, abused, and murdered. Anyone with albino-white skin, enhanced eye color, and even remotely interested in blood were shunned and feared. Of course, fear bears forth anger and hate. Children were pulled out of school (or forced out). Many were cast out of their families, forced out of their livelihoods and their lives. They were forced to wear patches on their clothing signifying their condition and were not associated with on any level.
Then, almost thirty years ago, a man stepped forward to become the official voice of the "vampires", or the Ensanguious People of America Association (EPAA). His name was John Havendish. He was an upstanding member of the community, holding a prestigious position as CEO of a major finance company in Manhattan. He himself had contracted this "vampire" disease many years ago, though he had hidden it for all of his life. But he had finally become tired of seeing others like himself persecuted and hunted down, even in these times of change of civil rights and women's liberation. So he went on a speaking tour.
Havendish showed the nation, and the world, that he did not have especially sharp teeth or anything related to fangs, his eyes were not red (they were a cheerful blue), he did not burn under sunlight, he would not disintegrate or burst into flames when stabbed with a piece of wood (he had stabbed his hand with a pencil), and he was very fond of silver (he wore a silver ring on his left pinky finger). His favorite foods were salmon and bean sprouts, his favorite nonalcoholic drink was orange juice, and he immensely enjoyed a whiskey sour.
After more than five years of his tour, people reluctantly began to believe his sincerity and truth. He also had connections in the Senate and House, as well as Wall Street, Hollywood, and even Parliament. It turned out that others in high places had this same blood deficiency, and they gave Havendish and the EPAA their official and monetary support. The community then had no choice but to consider accepting this new minority.
In this time, numerous books came out describing this blood deficiency, explaining it in completely scientific and logical terms, and clinical studies were published. Oprah and Good Morning America invited several BD minorities onto their shows. Their message was clear: "We are just like you, we will not hurt you, we just want acceptance." Bills were proposed, written, rewritten, sent through the House and Senate several times, to the presidents, and at long last, thirty years after John Havendish had begun his mission, the bill was passed in both the Senate and the House to reinstate blood-deficient minorities as citizens.
John Havendish looked exactly the same as he had thirty years ago as he shook the President's hand.
Sophie felt proud to be living in such a time, and yet ashamed that their world was still so afraid of the unknown and different. What was the point of studying history if everyone chose to ignore it? The Jews had suffered during World War II, as well as Japanese Americans, and most likely anyone else who may have looked Asian, rounded up into camps all across the country. Both races and cultures were victimized through fear, though on completely different levels of course. But it was the same principle.
On this first day of school at Penn Valley, Sophie knew that conversation would not be like ordinary first-day conversations. They usually included new hook-ups during the summer, new gifts from parents, new enemies made over a boy or girl, who would be made captain that year, and so on. To Sophie, it was all very dull stuff. She was tired of the endless same people who had all had sex with each other already, had stolen all of their parents' alcohol and needed older friends to buy more for them, and had clumsily rolled joints in abandoned parking lots.
This year would be different.
The cafeteria was a very large and open space, with sunlight pouring in from the skylight ceilings. Sophie stopped dead in the entrance. Instead of the usual conversation she had come to expect, there was nothing. It was mostly silent, with only a low buzz of voices. At several tables, she saw groups of her classmates sitting in their own little cliques. She saw her own friends at one table. And then, on the other side of the cafeteria, two tables played host to very pale students. They could look like any normal kid, their hair colors ranging from white blonde to black. Their backpacks and notebooks sat at their feet. But they were very still, very silent, and very observant of others around them. Sophie didn't see the student she had bumped into.
Sophie forced her feet to move, and she felt as if everyone were watching her make her way to her table. She smiled when she saw her best friend, Amy Allen. Amy gave a half-hearted wave, though she said nothing. Her eyes, along with everyone else's, continued to look at the two tables, and then quickly look away, nervously brushing back her curly blonde hair.
"Hey," Sophie said in a low voice. "I didn't know there would be so many." Penn Valley was not especially diverse. They had a handful of blacks and Asians and one or two Jews.
"I know," Amy replied in an equally soft voice.
"I heard they even hired a BD as a teacher, you know, just to show how open-minded they are." This was from Nicole Hardwick. She was shredding a piece of paper between her stubby fingers, and her round face, curtained by dirty blonde hair, was filled with suspicion and distaste.
Sophie's own eyes drifted over to the new students. "Well, I guess they are just people. I mean, it would be like cancer patients coming to our school. They're both very sick, and it's not their fault."
"How can you compare it to cancer?" It was as if Sophie had suggested having sex with a cow or eating babies. "It's not the same!"
"Why?" Sophie looked at her friends in confusion as they all stared at her. "It's like sickle cell disease or lymphoma or leukemia. It's just that their cure is a little different, and maybe more outlandish."
"But they kill people," Nicole hissed. "They drink people's blood and murder them!"
There was an awkward moment of silence as everyone looked anywhere but at Nicole or Sophie before Amy spoke up.
"Sophie's right," she said firmly, staring everyone down, though they hastily looked away. "Maybe the BD minorities do drink blood, and they may have killed people in the past. But not anymore. They can go to the clinics now for their doses of blood, and I heard that John Havendish has created a company to market synthetic blood. People all over the country are donating now for BD minorities."
"So does anyone have Mr. Cartel for biology?" Sarah injected quickly. Sarah was usually always the peacemaker. She was small and pixie-like and everyone liked her. "My older brother had him and said he's tough."
Everyone's breath seemed to dispel simultaneously as they moved on to safer and more familiar topics. Sophie noticed that Nicole did not look at her or speak to her again. Which was fine with Sophie.
A hand fell on Sophie's shoulder, and she turned to see Alex Malcov, her sort of boyfriend. She had dated him on and off during the summer, and she liked him well enough. He was cute, blonde and brown-eyed, tall, slim and muscular, and quick to joke.
He leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Hey Soph," he said, slinging his arm around her shoulders.
"Hey Alex," she said, smiling and knowing that Nicole was seething with jealously. Nicole had like Alex for ages, but he'd never glanced at her. This knowledge filled Sophie with satisfaction.
"Where you been this past week?" he asked, making a sad face. "I wanted to see you."
But he had filled his time with plenty of binge drinking and pot smoking, or so Sophie had heard. "I was busy," she said, smiling and leaning into his chest. "You know, getting school stuff."
"Maybe this weekend we can do something." He jostled her shoulders.
"Yeah, sure."
The five-minute bell rang, and everyone gathered their stuff to head to the auditorium. On such a momentous and life-changing day, the principal and other board members of the school were holding an assembly to welcome their new students, and to issue a subtle warning to the old students to be nice and accepting and welcoming. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that despite it being the twenty-first century, archaic and violent things could still erupt.
A group of parents had rebelled against this integration and had kept their children at home or had switched them to a private school where integration had not yet occurred. There had even been arson and other damage done in the BD neighborhoods, trying to scare and discourage the community into not coming out to the public, to mix with "normal" children. And this was not only in Penn Valley. This was happening all over the country. In certain areas of the South, the rebellion was more violent. At least a dozen bodies of BD minorities had been found dead, hanging from trees or floating in a river or displayed in a very public place. The New England area was trying to ignore that any change was occurring. Many in the Midwest were too poor and focusing on their own troubles, what with Detroit failing and many other small towns losing a large portion of jobs. The West coast welcomed the newcomers with open arms.
The principal, vice-principal, superintendent, and a few members of the school board were sitting in chairs on the stage. Principal Myers was shuffling back and forth in his pristine black suit, his solid gray tie knotted perfectly. The lights showed a sheen of sweat on his face and receding hairline, which he tried mopping up with a handkerchief.
At last, when everyone had filtered into the auditorium and the doors were shut, Principal Myers went to the podium. "Welcome back, everyone," he said, his voice stiff and uncomfortable. "And to our new students and staff, welcome." He paused, readjusting his tie and shoving one hand in his pocket. "As our President has said, we find ourselves in great times of change, and it is our job embrace these changes and to help them grow and evolve. Let us continue to lead by example." He paused again, wiping his face. "I hope that we may continue to build on the tradition of Penn Valley and make welcome our newest members. Remember that our school and community were founded on strength, intelligence, respect, and honor. Uphold our traditions, and we shall continue to succeed as Penn Valley has for over a hundred years. Disavow them in any manner, and I assure you, we will take measures to discourage you from doing it again. Thank you."
Sophie had always known Principal Myers was an idiot. He had tried to make his speech a poetic blend of politics, tradition, sentiment, and threats. In the end, he sounded like a desperate man on the edge of his rope, being forced into an awkward position he might not completely support or believe in. But it was either accept the
"And now I invite Mr. William Silvan to speak, on behalf of the board."
Students had been talking and snickering in the audience, or falling asleep. But now the silence was tensely alert as William Silvan stood up from his seat at the far end of the stage. He was a tall and graceful man in his early forties, his long white hands swinging easily at his sides. He was dressed neatly in navy blue dress pants, a white shirt tucked in and his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He looked relaxed and casual while looking elegant and mature.
At the podium, the lights shone brightly on him, accentuating the paleness of his skin. Sophie thought she could see the golden flecks of his brown eyes from her seat.
"Good morning." His soft and gentle voice was as relaxed as his demeanor. "I am honored to be speaking to all of you today. We are living in exciting times, but they are not unprecedented. We have lived through times like these before. It was a proud day for our country when minorities gained civil rights, when women were recognized as equals, and when the lesbian and gay couples were granted the right to love and marry as heterosexuals. Today, the Ensanguious people have joined history. I know you are all probably tired of hearing this, but you are the future. Someday, you will lead our country, our companies, our people. You will deal with people from all over the world, of different races and backgrounds, different classes and beliefs. How you will lead our country starts here in school. I hope you remember the wonderful changes we are living through and take the lessons you are learning now about respect and acceptance with you into the future. Thank you."
Sophie felt warmed and full of hope after William Silvan finished speaking. He was calm and cool and confident. He commanded attention because he believed in what he was saying and was not merely delivering a speech. He was delivering his hope and confidence in the world.
A few more people spoke, and everyone went back to falling asleep or talking, until the bell rang. Everyone jumped to their feet to get to their first class of the school year. Sophie breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled. If this was only the first day, it was going to be a long year.
The first day was always slow and mostly pointless as teachers introduced themselves, began learning new names, outlined the course, how they would be graded, their class policies, and so on. Most often, students didn't pay attention, but rather, they drew pictures on their syllabus, texted to other friends equally bored in other classes, or even the same class, or went back to sleep.
Not this year. Everyone was at least alert, if not paying attention. The new white-faced students sat in a corner together, until the teachers arranged the seating chart. Nicole was in Sophie's first class, and the look of obvious relief on Nicole's face when she discovered she was surrounded by friends and "normal" people caused Sophie to frown.
Sophie was seated in the back left corner. To her left was a girl she knew named Beth, to her right was a girl named Lindsay, in front of her was Joe, and behind her was the angry new student she had run into. His name was Riley Ashby. As he walked down the aisle to his seat, she saw everyone's shoulders stiffen and inch away as if his touch would infect them with his "condition." But she didn't move away or avert her eyes when he walked towards her. She met his gaze almost challengingly, and his eyes narrowed before he walked past her to his seat.
It was the same all day, like waiting to see if one would get a short or a long straw. Sophie noticed that Riley was in several more classes of hers, and she was seated by other BD minority students. She smiled at them, as she would any other new students, and they gave her a pensive, suspicious look.
The one and only thing Sophie liked about their school was that an outer courtyard had been built in the middle. Students could cross the space to get to class or hang out on the benches and tables between classes. Whoever had designed the school had been thoughtful enough to include the outer sanctuary for the students.
Sophie wasn't alone in enjoying the sun and fresh air. Several other students loitered in the space, complaining about school and reflecting on summer memories. To one side, she noticed Riley sitting alone in the shadows. Everyone was pointedly ignoring him. No other BD students were around. Setting her jaw in determination, Sophie sat down at his table.
"Hi," she said. "I just wanted to say again how sorry I am that I ran into you. It was an accident, and I wasn't looking where I was going and hadn't had my morning coffee. So please say you'll forgive me, because I really am sorry. I don't really like running into people because let's be honest, anyone can do more damage to me than I can to them. If it was intentional, then I wouldn't be apologizing so many times."
His hostile expression had slowly morphed into perplexity as she continued talking. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something else, and when he realized she was done, he continued to frown. "I'm Riley Ashby," he said.
"I figured as much, when all the teachers kept calling you that," Sophie said lightly. She supposed this meant he had accepted her apology in the alien world of boys. "I'm Sophie Carson."
"Figured as much, as well."
Either he had a minor sense of humor or he was being a sarcastic ass. But it was an improvement from a snarling ass.
"Who do you have for class?"
Riley sighed and slowly pulled his schedule out of his back pocket. "Mrs. Scully for Calculus, Mr. Harris for Physics, Mr. Gentily for English, Mr. Irvine for Astronomy, and Mrs. Wilson for Spanish."
"I had Mr. Gentily for English last year, too," Sophie said, grinning. "He's tough but he's a great teacher. He's really funny and a bit eccentric. I think you'll like him. What do you think of his reading list?"
"Looks like it'll be semi-interesting anyway."
"He definitely likes to include a lot of psychological thrillers. I'm also taking A.P Spanish, ninth period. Señora Wilson is sometimes a bit crazy, but she's the sweetest woman."
And then the conversation died. Sophie liked looking into his intensely blue eyes, looking at his long nose, his short, spiky brown hair, his down turned mouth. She could see his arm muscles were finely shaped beneath his blue t-shirt, and the muscles in his forearms rippled as he flicked a leaf off of the table.
"I know you're probably dying to ask me how old I am."
Sophie blinked in surprise as his voice cut through her thoughts. She noticed the stony expression had melted somewhat to reveal an almost teasing mockery. The corner of his mouth was upturned in a sardonic smile. Maybe he wasn't just an ass.
Then she shrugged. "That's your business. If you would like to volunteer the information, since you brought up the subject, then you may share it. If you do not want to share it, then don't. It makes no difference to me. Besides, don't they always say age is just a number?"
Riley stared at her until he reluctantly began to laugh. It was a nice, free sound, compared to his tightly controlled voice. "I don't think I've ever met anyone you talks as much as you."
"And I think I've met plenty of other guys who talk just as much as you," she retorted.
"Fair enough. Sorry."
"What did you think of our assembly?"
His eyes flickered at the world "our", but he quickly looked down. "I think your principal is an ass and Mr. Silvan is slightly delusional but a decent guy."
"Can you guys read minds too?" Sophie asked in surprise. "My thoughts exactly. Everyone knows the school board has him by the balls anyway."
Riley then stood up. "It was nice meeting you. I'm sure I'll see you in some other classes." He turned to go, then paused. "I would also like to apologize about this morning." Then he was gone.
Sophie stared after him, surprised by his abrupt departure. She barely noticed as Alex leaned in to kiss her on the mouth.
"What are you doing sitting by yourself?" Alex asked as he sat by her and took her hand.
"What?" Sophie was still staring in the direction Riley had gone. He had disappeared so quickly she was beginning to doubt he'd ever been there in the first place. Had he somehow known Alex was coming? And that Alex would not like another guy hanging around his supposed girlfriend? And that Alex was somewhat suspicious and afraid of the new students, though he'd never admit it?
"Soph, are you even listening to me?" Alex's voice was annoyed and impatient.
She reluctantly centered her attention on Alex and tried to smile. "Sorry, just tired I guess. I can't ever get used to waking up so early." She kissed him softly on the mouth. "You know I can't function without a bucket of coffee."
He chuckled, his mouth hovering over hers. "Tomorrow morning I'll be sure to bring you an extra large bucket," he said softly.
The five-minute bell rang, and they kissed briefly one more time before going in different directions to their respective classes. Sophie was smiling to herself. She liked the feel of Alex's lips against hers, his attentiveness to her. He had his moments of stupidity, like smoking too much and occasionally drinking too hard, or being more concerned with sports than school, but then, if those were his biggest flaws, Sophie wouldn't complain too much.
She still wasn't sure exactly how she felt about him. It was nice dating someone, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to put so much work into a relationship if they would be breaking up after graduation. She knew he wanted to go to school in Florida to play baseball. She wanted to go to school in the northeast. And she never knew who she'd meet at college, or who he would meet, for that matter. Long distance relationships were usually more trouble than they were worth. It consisted mostly of talking, and once you ran out of things to talk about, you fought.
Everyone told her to just enjoy what she had in the moment and not worry so much about the future. What would happen would happen. But Sophie was a realist and liked to be prepared for everything. If that made her seem hard-hearted and cold, so be it.
As the first day of the school year was winding down and Sophie made her way to ninth period A.P. Spanish, she again saw Riley in the classroom. He was in almost every single one of her classes. She hadn't had a chance to talk to him again after their strange conversation in the courtyard, but she smiled at him before sitting next to her friend Elyse. They had been in the same Spanish class since freshman year.
"Are you going to take the A.P. Spanish test?" Elyse asked as soon as Sophie sat down.
Sophie smiled at her friend's predictability. No wonder she was vying for the valedictorian spot. "I don't think so. I don't really need any A.P. scores for the schools I'm applying to. I'm only taking the English one, and that's because I want to."
They talked for a few more minutes about their classes and colleges until Mrs. Wilson came flurrying into the classroom. She was a petit, dark-haired and cheerful woman, and a native of Spain.
"Hola, clase!" she said brightly. "Como estáis?" Her eyes paused on the new students, and her smile widened. "Tenemos estudiantes nuevos!" Unlike most others, she looked absolutely delighted about the prospect. Perhaps it was because she herself still felt like an outsider still, even after living in the United States for almost twenty years.
With more enthusiasm than any other teacher, Mrs. Wilson asked the new students questions she would ask anyone else, and she was pleased when they responded in fairly fluent Spanish. Before she realized it, she had slipped completely into Spanish, conversing rapidly and animatedly with her new students. The new students seemed to thaw out around her and even seemed to almost smile occasionally.
At last the final bell ring and all the students jumped from their seats for the door. Sophie wasn't surprised to find Alex at her locker already. He didn't have any of his stuff since he had football practice after school and was already dressed in gym shorts and a T-shirt. He pushed away from the wall when he saw her.
"Hey, Soph, Greg says he's having a party this weekend," he said. "It's his parents' anniversary and they're gone this weekend through next weekend. Wanna go?"
She shrugged. "Yeah, sure." She hesitated. "Will you just promise me you won't smoke this weekend?" She saw his look of protest and she spoke quickly. "You know I don't like it. I don't like any kind of smoking. Please?"
He didn't say anything for a moment as he dragged his hand through his blonde hair. "Come on, Soph, it's the first school weekend. I'm going to be tired and frustrated from practice, so I need something to loosen up."
"Fine, then I won't go." Sophie's voice was neutral, trying not to sound accusatory. It was Alex's choice if he wanted to smoke, but she didn't have to like it or witness it. She shut her locker and began walking to the parking lot.
Alex fell into step beside her. "All right, I won't smoke," he said grudgingly. "I really want you to be there."
Sophie looked up at him and almost felt guilty for feeling surprised. She knew he liked her, but he also liked doing things with his friends. It touched her that he was choosing her over smoking. And who knew, perhaps she could help him kick the habit.
"Thanks Alex," she said and grabbed his hand. She usually was not a big fan of PDA and felt like he was crowding her when he slung his arm around her shoulders. His fingers closed around hers and she decided that handholding was all right.
As they exited the schools, many cars were already speeding out of the parking lot, despite the stern looks of Mr. Maddox, or Maddog, as everyone referred to him as. He was like their own personal police officer, busting troublemakers and watching over detention and patrolling the halls for roaming students. He also stood out in the parking lot at the end of the days to make sure no one was speeding or loitering or cutting the school buses off.
Sophie noticed that the new students had parked close to each other in a corner of the lot. Strangely, she could pick out the dark head of Riley. He had his arm slung around a girl, and friends around them were talking and laughing, like any normal group of teenagers. Sophie narrowed in on the back of the girl's head. For some reason, Sophie felt a tightening in her chest, seeing Riley's arm around the other girl. Which was ridiculous, she told herself. Sophie wondered who the girl was and if Riley talked to her, or if they just glared silently and moodily at each other.
Alex kissed her lightly on the lips once they'd gotten to her car, then jogged away to the football stadium. Sophie watched as the new students got into their cars. They fit in with the other students' cars, Toyotas, Chevys, Hondas, and a Mustang and BMW or two.
As far as first days went, this one had gone surprisingly well. No incidents, no fights or face offs. Perhaps Penn Valley could be civilized after all. And even as Sophie was thinking this, she was aware of raised voices and shouting and a crowd gathering around two guys a few yards away. She sighed, cursing testosterone and male egos.