Chapter 7

I manage to enter the classroom where I hope to take Law just as the bell rings, and the teacher, a stern-looking woman in a dreary cherry-colored dress with lips the same shade, is standing at the board to greet the students.

Her reproachful look makes me stop and apologize. Pilar is already sitting at a desk by the window, wide-eyed and hunched down into her shoulders, and she signals to me (dragging her thumb across her throat) that I am in trouble.

- Hello, Miss Edwards! Sorry I am late. May I sit down?

I hope my friend was right and I am pronouncing the name correctly; otherwise awkwardness and unnecessary problems will be impossible to avoid. Usually, new teachers are introduced to students by the principal himself, but judging by the way the woman looks so keenly and carries herself so calmly, she does not need that at all.

- What is your name? - she asks, and I answer:

- Lena Holt.

She checks my words against the entry in the gradebook and says:

- Take your seat, Miss Holt, but understand this: you have received your first warning. A second tardy will end in demerit points and extra assignments. And that applies to everyone! - she raises her voice, looking around the room. Reaching out, she points me to the only free desk in the far row by the wall:

- Take your place, please! From now on, for the entire course, it is yours!

I nod, grab my backpack, and hurry to sit down, but suddenly stumble when I notice, at the last desk, directly behind mine, Carter Wright.

He looks just as stunned; for him this is definitely not a pleasant surprise, and my legs barely obey me as I sink into the chair in front of him.

Hell! Not this! He could not have chosen the same subject as me!

There are only sixteen people in the class, and the school has a large selection of electives for anyone who wants to graduate with high marks: macroeconomics, photography, Eastern cultures and psychology, foreign languages. Our town has one of the best universities in the state, so no one wants to miss their chance.

So why Law, of all things?!

School had always come easily to Alex; he planned to study journalism, and he would probably have graduated with honors. When Gregory Butler once joked that nature had fairly divided the roles between the twins--giving one brains and the other fists--Carter took offense and said his brother was much smarter than everyone thought and would definitely prove it.

But I always thought the older brother was counting on an athletic scholarship, like Nicholas. The guys on the lacrosse team were losing their minds over last year's success in the town championship, and I heard Wright had been chosen captain... And suddenly, the basics of law.

The icy stare on my back makes my shoulder blades seize so tightly that I cannot move. When I try to dig a notebook and pen out of the depths of my backpack, both fall to the floor, and I freeze in indecision, realizing I am incapable of picking them up.

- Move her somewhere else!

Miss Edwards is just finishing learning the students' names when she is forced to break off and adjusts the glasses on her nose, reacting to the demand that has just been voiced.

- Did you say something, Mr.... uh, Wright? - she asks again, as if she did not hear.

- Yes, - comes the dull, hard voice behind me. - I said move Holt somewhere else.

God, my heart leaps and hammers like a frightened doe. The students in the class turn their heads toward us, and I am already getting ready to jump up... when the woman gestures for me to stay where I am.

- State the reason, Wright. Why should I do that?

Carter is not embarrassed. Judging by his cold tone, it is unlikely anything or anyone could embarrass him.

- I do not like seeing Holt in front of me, that's all.

He is telling the truth. I know he hates me; I just cannot understand why. But right now I do not need an answer. I want to get as far from him as possible myself.

- I am not asking what you like, - Miss Edwards remarks to her student just as coldly. - I asked you to state a reason.

- I cannot see well because of her.

- Is that so? - the surprise on the teacher's face turns to skepticism. - State your height, Mr. Wright.

Judging by the pause, Carter does not like the question, but he answers anyway.

- Six feet, ma'am.

- And may I know your height, Miss Holt?

I say it quietly, but they hear me:

- Five foot four, ma'am.

- Good, - the teacher nods. - That is what I thought. Did you choose that desk yourself, Mr. Wright? - she clarifies with him. - Without my involvement?

- Yes, ma'am.

- Do you remember the central premise of the Declaration of Independence?

From her important expression, it is easy to guess she is almost certain he will say yes, and Wright does not disappoint her.

- I remember it perfectly.

- Then be so kind as to remind us of it, please. Otherwise I may begin to doubt whether you have come through the wrong classroom door.

Everyone in the class holds their breath, and so do I. No one wants a scandal involving the principal. I would gladly move just to stop this conversation: Pilar was not wrong, Miss Edwards turned out to be a tough nut. Another teacher would have called administration long ago.

- "All men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights..." - Wright recites. - That is what the original text says. Personally, I have serious doubts about it, but I assume that is the part of the Declaration you meant, ma'am?

- Exactly, thank you.

- Should I recite the Bill of Rights from memory too? - mockery is audible in Carter's dry tone. - Or should we move straight to the amendments to the Constitution and the basics of individual legal status? All because of Holt?

I cannot take it anymore and straighten in my chair, ready to spring out of it at any moment.

- We certainly will, all in good time. But for now, young man, I still have not heard the reason for your demand, - Edwards reminds him.

The guy behind my back exhales reluctantly and loudly.

- Fine, it is personal! Is that clear enough?

- Not at all. I recommend leaving all personal reasons outside the doors of the educational institution. Otherwise our school risks turning into what the White House very nearly became during the Monicagate scandal, and I would prefer to avoid that.

The teacher shifts her gaze to me.

- Miss Holt, do you have any objections? Please bear in mind that you were the one who was late and came to class last. So there was not much choice.

The question comes unexpectedly, and my chin jerks.

- No!

- Good. Then you have the legal right to occupy your seat. As for you, Mr. Wright, - she turns to Carter, - you have three options to choose from. And all of them, please note, are strictly within the law!

- I am listening, Miss Edwards.

The woman nods, folding her hands over the folder in front of her.