American History: Mrs. Clemens

This was a first!

Anyone who knew Cholena Nelson, knew that the social butterfly was never the first student to arrive to class! She was lucky to even arrive on time! However seems like miracles do happen since the vibrant redhead ducked into American History class a good 40 minutes before the lesson was scheduled to begin. Today’s punctuality was due souly to the fact that she had to hitch a ride with her dad on his way to work. She wasn't fond of riding to school in the patrol car, but her own set of wheels was currently incapacitated.There goes my weekend! Straight after work on Saturday Lena would have to bring her car to Scott’s Garage to see if they would be able save her piece of junk. Good thing it was payday! Gotta love Fridays!

Making her way through the rows of empty desks Lena settled into the seat smack dab in the middle of the classroom. Since she’d never been to class early she wasn't sure what to do with her time until the teacher arrived. Digging into her bag Lena fished out the Valevay High Post she had picked up upon entering the school that morning. Guess now was as good enough time as any to do a little light reading. Hopefully people would start arriving soon or she might start to go stir crazy. Tipping back in her seat her sandal covered feet –displaying her freshly painted toes- propped up on her desktop, Lena buried herself into the front page article; The Haunted Halls of Valevay…

Upon entering, Andy suspected he’d be the first one in the class room. To be frank, the blonde liked being alone. Solitude acted as his shield, but he figured he wouldn't be protected today; especially since there was a certain red-head accompanying him who knew no boundaries. Cholena seemed to be engrossed in what she was reading, and Andy wasn't going to disturb her. Finding a desk two seats ahead of Cholena, Andy quietly, and carefully drew out his chair. Gingerly taking a seat, the blonde thought what better way to use time productively than to make points to bring up in the student council meeting. There were no clubs on Friday, but that didn't mean he couldn't plan for Monday. Taking a small book and a pen from his bag, Andy began to jot down points, tapping his pen when the ideas seemed to stop flowing.

Mrs. Clemens returned to her classroom and her desk, coffee in hand, and was surprised to see a student already seated at a desk. It caused the woman to smile as she took her first caffeinated sips.
The History teacher cleared her throat before speaking. "Good morning. Have you checked your name on the sheet yet to find your seat?" she asked.
She didn't recognize this redhead yet--it was likely she was one of the many transfers they had this year. She did remind her of someone. "Miss Nelson, am I correct?"

Jane noticed another occupant of her class as she sat at her desk. The student council president, Mr. Pryde. He was so quiet, she almost missed him. The way he was writing and passing his time and even his appearance and demeanor, on closer look, reminded her of her son. She smiled--the sadness in it lasted only a fleeting moment--and she addressed him too. "Mr. Pryde, would you mind double-checking your seat? The groups are posted on the board if you go look."

So…people actually believed that Valevay was haunted by the spirit of a young angry student…or two. The story itself was a bunch of rubbish to Lena, however the idea sparked an adventure that the redhead was itching to recruit for. If there was any apparitions floating down the halls or eerie screams and moans in the middle of empty classrooms than she wanted to see it up close and personal. Lena didn't believe in ghost stories or any mumbo jumbo of that kind, on the contrary she was the one to start most of them…or at least embellish them. But this was a perfect way to have a little fun during the weekend.

Interrupting her thoughts was the voice of Mrs. Clemens addressing her by her last name. Hmm she must know my mom or dad . . . then again there aren't many who haven’t met one of them at one time or another…. Gently lowering her chair down back in its proper position Lena set aside her light reading material flashing her pearly whites at the instructor. “Yep! That’s me, and no I didn't realize there was a seating chart…that’s too bad I was really liking this seat…” Lena sighed taking a peek the presorted groups. Needless to say Lena wasn't too pleased to see that Chepe and Barbie would be sharing a table. Let alone that she herself hadn't been placed with any of her friends. She would just have to consider this as a way to meet some new friends, and even take it as a chance interrogate a certain boy that had snatched her best friend away…

It was surprising to find that there had been another student aside from herself already in class, since Lena hadn't notice Andy until Mrs. Clemens addressed him. He was so quiet that he had managed to sneak right passed her. Not quite the person she had hoped to see, but there was a little score she had to settle with their dear Student Council President! Abandoning her belongings in the seat she would have to eventually surrender to someone else in that chosen group, Lena leaned over Andy’s right shoulder her arm stretched out to prop herself up against the edge of his table. “Good Morning Andy. I do believe that there is something you owe me.” Lena straightened up a bit her vibrant curls cascading over her shoulders as she took a seat on the desk top near his notepad, gently swinging her feet. “You lost our little wager! Seeing that not only was I NOT tardy to this class, but I was right on time to Art as well!” Lena pointed out with a small hint of satisfaction in her voice.

Averting his eyes from his book, Andy stiffened a bit at the sound of his name. Realizing that it was only Mrs. Clemens, he relaxed his shoulders a bit. “Oh, of course not, Mrs. Clemens. I’ll take a look at it this instant.” He began to pull his chair out but stopped as Cholena perched herself on his desk. With his face flushed, he managed to give a quiet “Good morning” to the vibrant red-head. He listened to her as she spoke; quite shocked she managed to make it to Art Class as well. “W-well, I’m glad you got to class on time, b-but we should talk about this another time… I’m a little busy at the moment…”

Rising from his seat, Andy studied the seating chart, recognizing names, but he just couldn’t match them to any faces. Giving up, he took his seat at the back, hoping that maybe a friend of Cholena’s would pop in so she’d forget about the wager they’d made. As if it was a miracle, someone did come in, but this wasn’t a familiar face to Andy; not in the least. And she was in a wheel chair. His green eyes followed her all the way to the back, and it took him a while before realizing he was staring at her. Andy felt his face grow even hotter as he turned away embarrassed. He probably wasn’t helping her situation either. What a great way to start your morning, Andy….

Normally, arriving to class early was a completely foreign concept to most of the Wilder boys, but as fate would have it, he had left his dorm room earlier than usual. Was it the excitement of getting to class for a fun filled day of talking about a bunch of dead guys who did some stuff a long time ago? Hell no. Was it because there was the opportunity of seeing Emma in class after he had hunted through the few articles of clothing he had in search of clothes that were both stain free and had no holes in them? Yep, that was part of it. But the biggest reason was more straightforward than that.

History was by far his worst subject.

His shoulders heaved a sigh as he sauntered into the classroom, dressed in a black t-shirt that clung to his muscular torso and a pair of semi-loose blue jeans that had been hemmed by his younger brother Keith. His worn leather belt was ever-present and unlike the previous few days, he actually tied his hair back so most of the unruly dark curls were out of his face today. This made his blue eyes seem sharper and more focused, his gaze piercing whatever it fell on. He'd left his duffel bag with clothes for the weekend in his thunderbird, along with his bass guitar for the trip home. Bringing it to class was unnecessary anyway since he'd have to leave it in the gig bag and would only serve to distract him from the lesson.

Today, Chuck remembered to check the front of the classroom for the seating arrangements which were, unfortunately, present. He wasn't terribly pleased with where his seat was located, but it could have been worse. He trudged to his seat and flopped down in it, sprawling into a relaxed position. His clear gaze flickered out the window for a few moments, obviously preferring to be outside, then he glanced at the other early arrivals. There was the teacher, a girl in a wheelchair he hadn't seen before, and some guy who was talking to Emma's friend...that manly-sounding chick. A grin flashed across his features and he reached for his history book, opening it and setting it on his desk in front of him.

He stared at it for a few minutes before he had to actually force himself to start reading it. It was - for lack of a better word - boring. No, it was beyond boring. It was a snooze-fest waiting to happen, but Chuck kept reading nonetheless. If he was going to have any hope of graduating from Valevay and proving to John that he wasn't a dumb animal, then he'd have to pass all of his classes. Besides, there was also Emma to think of. She was so much smarter than he was already, and he didn't want to look like some meathead in front of her. Emma was the first shy, intelligent girl he'd ever pursued and she was far better than the trashy girls he was used to dating. He'd have to do his best in school if he wanted to prove he was good enough to be with her. She hadn't said that, but he had decided it on his own. So he'd suffer through this boring-ass book and get smarter, no matter what.

Why? Rebecca slunk into the history classroom, her moher's domain. It was the only year she would ever have to have her, thank God, but even that thought didn't comfort her. The assignments would be just as difficult, if not more so, for her than anyone else. Her mom wasn't that parent that made things harder to prove non-favoritism, but she did teach at an advanced level Rebecca found extremely difficult to keep up with.
She technically shouldn't have been at Valevay--she would have never made it. The only reason she was there was because of her mom's job. Carson was a whiz kid, he could do it, he could have tested in on his own merits--but not Rebecca.

Glancing over the seating assignments, the brunette was irked to discover that she was included in the group right at her mother's desk. It felt as if her mom didn't trust her to behave--so what if she'd gotten a few reports sent to the office, it was never anything huge. At least she was at a table with Lynn, that was a plus.
She slid into a seat in the grouping that was as far from her mother's desk as she could--she noticed from the look she got that her mother understood or at least noticed the overt avoidance. Chalk it up to teenage rebellion or whatever, Rebecca thought with a dark look. She couldn't help but resent being noticed by their mother, when Carson was the one in need of their love and attention.

She brightened up her expression as she looked around the room so see the other occupants. There was her redheaded dodgeball teammate, the StuCo president, and a Wilder. Cool, a variety. And I'm also sitting with a guy named Drewe, and the Stills girl. They sound familiar.
Tipping her chair back and propping her shoes up in support on the shiny metal bars underneath the desk, Rebecca tossed her bag on the floor beside her with an unceremonious thud. "'Sup," she announced to anyone who'd answer her, be it the redhead she'd forgot the name of, or the Wilder looking through the book she hadn't even touched yet.


---
Jane unconsciously flinched at her daughter's fierce attitude. The air had gotten even worse between them than before in recent months, but while it bothered her highly it could not interfere with her class. She double-checked the time--twelve minutes until the five-minute warning bell--and proceeded to scrawl on the whiteboard in large, neat script the pages of the reading. The blonde teacher had more planned, but she would reserve that for when everyone was in their proper seat and the bell had rung.

The tall Korean strode into the room confident, casual, in a blue dragon-print t-shirt, white blazer, and black slacks. Throughout all of yesterday's events, Ah-Gyul's demeanor had been restored for better or for worse to its usual cool self.

His bag was slung over his shoulder as he crossed the room to the board. So I'm seated.... He noticed...what was his name. Charles Wilder? The boy with the strong arm, seated at his table, engrossed in their textbook. It couldn't be anything that interesting--after all what was it, mainly battles and things, which were interesting but not usually so in educational form.
He saw another person's things at another seat, and therefore occupied an empty spot directly across from the curly-haired brunet. Ah-Gyul sat straight in his seat, with the trained posture that accompanied an heir and figured he might pass the time thinking. Thinking about the company, the next steps they could take, the new phone designs, there was a lot he could do in this spare time.

Rebecca was frustrated. Her greeting had gone ignored, her classmates unresponsive. It's not like they were occupied with anything better, or that the class had started yet. The two previousy suspended legs of her chair crashed down to the floor as she removed her feet from against the bars.
"Dammit," she muttered under her breath, temporarily giving up and resigning to tucking her head down. And directing her dark amber eyes to glare uselessly at the far wall from just above her tanned arms. Her mind drifted to Carson, who had a much better attitude about Life, the Universe, and Everything.

This temper of mine will get me in some kind of mess some day, the girl brooded thoughtfully, not accounting for her two past suspensions and a long-since-healed broken arm as part of that tally. The brunette with the messy ponytail smiled bitterly, though that expression was veiled from sight by her arms. Turning her thoughts to the much appreciated shower earlier, she half-chuckled at her complete oblivion to the weather report's warning. It wasn't like she read the news, so she had dressed in a green snakeskin print cotton tank top and khaki shorts that went mid-thigh. On the plus side, it dries quicker.


---
Jane watched the range of expressions on her daughter's face, most of them readable from the movement of her brows. Her tomboy might have been a strong, smart girl, but she could generally be read like an open book, to used a cliched expression. Even so, what I would give to know what she's thinking....
The Clemens woman sighed unnoticeably and turned her gaze back to her class planner. As this was the first time she would attempt this project with a class, she hoped it would work out.

The ground was damp, the moist air telling of the passed rain. Xavier pushed his hair out his eyes for the fifth time in the last minute as he strolled over to the fountain that sat in the courtyard. He shoved his hands into his pockets, slouching slightly as he stared through the cascading water. It was nice out at the moment, a cool breeze pulled in from the earlier shower. Because of this, Xavier had decided to kill time outside, rather than stay in his new dorm. He’d just moved in a few days ago, and hadn’t really had time to introduce himself to his roommate. Or rather, he’d been avoiding it. So the courtyard seemed like a nice place to waste the minutes away. He’d have to head to class soon, but that wasn’t on his mind at the moment.

Tilting his head back, silver hairs falling back, he stared up at the gray sky. Suddenly, a minuscule droplet of water smacked into his cheek, running down to his jaw and following its path down his neck. Another followed it, splattering against his lips. The rain was starting again. And here Xavier had thought it would stop for good. Turning his head to the ground, the drops suddenly becoming more numerous as they melted into his white long-sleeve shirt and dampening his hair, he turned sharply and made way for one of the trees. He could have dashed over to take refuge in one of the buildings, or just headed back to his dorm, but something kept him there in the courtyard. Even with the rain, it was better than being locked up in side. So he stepped under one of the many towering trees, leaning against the tree’s supportive base, and turned his head to the sky once more to watch the droplets make their trip from the sky through the many intertwining branches of his protection.

Time passed by quickly, and after pulling out his cell to check the time, he realized how late it was getting. Class would be starting soon, and he didn’t want to cut it close. Stepping out from under the tree, he held up a hand as if to block the rain as he made his way inside. It didn’t take long for him to locate the classroom, and he slipped in quietly. Glancing up at the board, he tilted his head as he studied the image. Then he turned to survey the room, his gaze sweeping right over the other students. After determining where his seat should be, he shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way over to one of the four desks, taking the closest to the front.

He had been concentrating so hard on forcing himself to read that damn history book that he not only completely missed the arrival of additional students, his face had gotten closer to the book. Chuck had been about five inches from pressing his face to the pages when the sudden crash of Rebecca's chair of the floor jolted him away from the text, and he swore sharply in surprise before he could stop himself. Damn his mouth!! He sent the teacher an apologetic look immediately. "Sorry..."

Ah-Gyul's head had turned back upward in alertness at the slamming of the chair and his groupmate's sudden exclamation. With a learned control, his expression showed no surprise, only a half-amused smirk. He shook his head only slightly when he noticed two new people enter the classroom, one very loud and sort of annoying, albeit likely inconsequential. The other, well both of them appear distinctly Japanese. The girl seated herself in his group and commenced writing in a notebook.
The Koran's curiosity piqued, his eyes trailed over to the words developing on her page--all in Japanese. So she wasn't just Japanese ethnicity? "Sumimasen, anata wa Nihonjin desu ka? Anata no namae wa Akane-san, so desu ka?"

"Aa, so desu ka," Ah-Gyul responded. He bowed his head a little in response "Hajimemashite Akane-san, boku no namae wa Shin Ah-Gyul desu. Douzo yoroshiku. Kankoku kara kimashita. Kankoku-jin, desu. Doko Nihon de kara kimashita?" He smiled invitingly, because unlike most of the other students at this school, she was one of the few he might possibly care to interact with. Then again, there was the Wilder boy, whose potential strength interested him. Except he didn't seem one for conversation, at least at this time.


---
Mrs. Clemens smiled lightly at her student, unsurprised that a word like that should be exclaimed in a high school, even one as so-called elite as Valevay. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Wilder. We're fine unless it becomes a habit." While Valevay may have had a policy on cursing, Jane was for the most part rather lax on it.
It intrigued Jane to hear a conversation being held in another language, even though she didn't show any indication of particular interest. IT made her think of her husband, oceans away. He was due back for a short break in two weeks, hopefully he stuck to it.

Xavier had managed to zone out enough that he could no longer hear the other low conversations taking place in the quiet classroom. He sat, chin in palm, staring at the wall in a daydream. So it was no wonder that he was surprised when someone suddenly popped up in his peripheral. He dropped his hand, turning to stare at the Asian boy who’d introduced himself as Kenta. Xavier took a moment to check the board, finding the name up their above his own.

“Nice to meet.” He said in low tone, smiling slightly. He took the time to notice the white head of hair on the boy, and smirked, “Nice hair, too.” The unusual comment, though strange on Xavier’s lips, was far from an insult. After all, anyone could tell that just by looking up at Xavier’s head of soft silver locks. That didn’t happen by accident, after all. “I’m Xavier. I…uh, I guess were in the same group, then.”

With some much needed help Emma was able to find a nice outfit for the day although she hadn’t budged on letting her caramel locks loose – instead keeping it securely tied and styled in its usual pigtails. The outfit Lorilynn had deemed date worthy had already earned Emma a few lingering glances on her trip through the crowded hallways. The beige pencil skirt was one of her favorite articles of clothing the only reason that she had placed it in the back of her closest –where it had spent the many lonely months alone- was because she felt that it just a bit small. Though it was tight in one particular area it actually fit Emma quite nicely stopping barely an inch above her knees, tastefully showing off her normally hidden figure. The pastel pink blouse only helped to add a lovely color to Emma’s wardrobe which complemented her soft brown doe eyes. Thankfully Lorilynn had a secret hidden talent as a stylist. . . .then again she could have just gotten lucky. None the less Emma was very thankful for her help, and was sure to tell her over . . . and over again.

A bit later than anticipated Emma slipped into Mrs. Clemens class her slender arms wrapped about her thick pristine history book holding it softly to her chest, accompanied closely by Lorilynn – whom she’d been in a small conversation with about her roommate’s life back in Boston. The small brunette hung onto her fair haired dormmate’s every last word. Born and raised on the Island the Still’s never ventured further than its white powdery beaches. So hearing about the outside world had always fascinated Emma, and due to the large amount of transfer student’s Valevay High gladly opened their arms to every year Emma had many chances to learn about other places more or less interesting as Boston.

Immediately upon entering the class Emma spotted the curly haired brunette that had invaded her mind all morning. Seeing him buried in a textbook was far more surprising than the fact that he’d made it to class before her this time. Still it elected a lightning fast grin to spread over her lips. Not wanting to interrupt him she turned to take a quick peek at the seating arrangements. Needless to say that the sudden sharp noise of a classmate’s chair connecting with the floor and a loud choice word from Chuck startled Emma causing her to jump suddenly nearly dropping her textbook.

Adjusting her glasses -trying to hide the embarrassed blush staining her face- Emma claimed the corner seat closest to Mrs. Clemen's desk, greeting the brunette already at sitting at their table in her normal soft tone, "Good Morning"

The tattooed Wilder boy breathed a sigh of relief when the teacher didn't scold him for his unexpected slip of the F bomb. "No," Chuck began, "it won't happen agai-" The words trailed off as he realized Emma was standing up at the front of the classroom decked out in a soft pink shirt with three quarter inch sleeves and a beige pencil skirt that ended just a bit above her knees. Beneath the skirt were her legs were white. Stockings? Tights? He had no idea what the heck they were and didn't care. They looked nice on her. The shoes she wore were called Mary Janes, but he wouldn't have known that either.

The bassist couldn't help the smile that stretched his lips as he watched her move to take her seat. She was such a pretty little thing. Immediately, he wished for class to be over and even contemplated just grabbing Emma and making off with her right then, but he reminded himself that he was a Valevay student now. He'd busted his ass to get into this school and paid for it himself, so abducting her was out of the question. At least until after class. He was so glad to see her, despite his embarrassment that she'd probably heard his foul outburst.

"Boku wa naganen ni watari, sore o mananda. Soshite kyonen soko ni sunde ita. Donna ongaku ga sukidesu ka?" Ah-Gyul first replied politely, and then conversationally. Akane-san seemed more comfortable than before, and yet as he watched, still guarded. That was well enough--it was natural to be that way and reminded him even moreso of his warrior-esque friend back in Tokyo. He chuckled to himself, fond memories of him teasing Kyouko just as Mariko did.
But just because the two appeared exceedingly similar, Ah-Gyul was not senseless enough to believe they were the same. For all he knew, this Japanese girl could react more harshly to teasing, or worse, surprise him by being so sensitive she would start crying or something. Until he knew more about his groupmate, the Korean resolved to be unfailing in his etiquette.

Oh my, how cute is that!

Emma sneaking peeks at the Wilder boy, while he was doing the same? Huh, she must've done her job correctly then, since he wouldn't stop looking at her. Smirking triumphantly, Lorilynn took her seat right across from Emma and next to Becky. She wished Mrs. Clemens a good morning before leaning in closer to Emma. Lorilynn whispered "See? He's totally into you. My work here is done. But I still think you should have let your hair loose." She fake pouted, remembering how Emma refused to let down her hair. She still looked cute, nonetheless. Fixing her posture, she turned to face Becky, giving her a bright smile. "Hello there, Becky. You look... Distraught? For lack of a better word. Is everything alright?"

"G'mornin' Emma," Rebecca replied. Emma was really quiet and paying attention to something else, so conversation hadn't gone anywhere for a moment. When Lorilynn joined their group and took a seat next to the tomboy, she just had to notice the brunette's mood, didn't she? "Yeah, Lynn, it is," she answered her new friend, smiling. She was eager to change the subject. "So how are ya? That was quite a spectacle yesterday, with the Asian. Pretty flipping awesome, 'fya ask me." The memory of a pink mustache on the serious-looking guy, put a grin on her face, one that threatened to turn into a loud guffaw--and so Rebecca fought the epic internal battle, so that only a small "Hee~" escaped her lips.