Chapter 3

Alex awoke, the last fragments of his dream clinging momentarily to his mind, a confused image of golden light shining off the bronzed flesh of a dancer, flashes of gold at her wrists and ankles, of endless tracts of burning sand where a legion of lithe, scaled bodies slide sinuously in search of prey, of a great throne at the centre of a temple of gold and bronze. By the time he had sat up, even those images were sketchy and fragile in his mind, shadows of a dream.

As quickly as the remnants of his dream were faded, he was awake and full of energy. When he got out of bed, again things felt strange — different than before in some unplaceable way. Telling himself he just wasn't used to being wide awake when he got out of bed, he walked over to the curtains and pulled them open. Just like yesterday, the sun was just pushing its way up over the horizon, spilling red across the sky and gold across the ground. Another early day.

He made his way downstairs and made himself breakfast. Rising this early was totally out of character for him, and he had no idea what to tell his parents if they asked, so he decided to avoid the issue for now and leave for school early today.

The walk was pleasant, and seemed to go by faster than usual, though he didn't think he walked any more quickly. The same strange sense of everything being a little bit different was still there, but he found it was much easier just not to worry about it. He felt great, the sun was shining, and life was good.

When he arrived at school, he decided to hang around outside and enjoy the day. Not that every day wasn't like this, but there was something extra nice about the early morning, he decided. The ground hadn't soaked up enough heat to start baking your feet as you walked, and the air still had a crispness to it that would be gone in an hour or so, killed by the heat of the sun.

He stopped in at the library, and then settled down on the grass to read. Several people had told him to check out The Name of the Rose. He was just starting chapter three when he was disturbed by a shadow falling across him. He looked up as Matt sat down opposite him.

"Hey, Chris tells me you're going to be spending two evenings a week with one of the hottest girls in town."

"Eh?" Alex was always a bit fuzzy when he had to switch from reading to interacting with human beings on short notice. "Uhm... Oh, yeah. Wait, I don't know. I'm supposed to tutor Sabrina Whitmore. I've only seen her in the paper. She looked pretty cute."

"Pretty cute. Yeah, and Bill Gates is fairly well off. Damn. My brother is on her brother's lacrosse team, so I've seen her a few times at games. If she doesn't make it as a swimmer, she always has being a supermodel to fall back on."

"So she's hot?"

"Man, you are going to have the world's worst case of blueballs, working with her."

"What, no! I'll..."

"You'll drool helplessly and gape like a moron. Man, she's hot. Saving it for marriage, too, though I've heard she does go down occasionally."

"Fuck man, how would you know that?"

"Well, like I said, my brother plays with her brother, and she's dated a couple of the guys on the team. Guys talk, ya know."

"And you listen to every word they say. Dude, guys will say any shit. Remember when Chris got laid on that vacation to Brazil. I bet you believe that, too."

"I don't know about that. I sure as hell believe you're not getting any from her, though. Man, you're going to be sitting there staring at her for two evenings a week. Forget blue, your balls are going to turn black, and swell up like cantaloupes. We may have to amputate."

"Oh, fuck off. Can't you see I'm trying to read here."

"Yeah, I can. But unless you start moving, you're going to be late for English."

"Shit. This is a pretty good book. Why can't we read stuff like this in English, instead of fucking Shakespeare."

"Because you might enjoy it, I guess. I don't get it. You like history. Shakespeare's part of history. What's your problem?"

"Fucking toast is part of history too, but no one expects me to spend seven hours a week staring at it. It's boring. I wouldn't mind reading it, but who cares if it's in iambic pentameter, or whether Macbeth is a villain or a tragic hero."

"Not me. Luckily, I don't have to worry about it till next semester. Gotta head to physics. Later, dude."

Alex shook his head and headed to class. Matt could be infuriating sometimes, but there wasn't much to be done about it. He was a good friend when you needed one, even if he pissed you off the rest of the time.

English class was about as usual, though they did get to enjoy a short anecdote about Mr. Roberts' street fighting days back in Scotland. Apart from that, it was pretty much the usual dull grind, and he breathed a sigh of relief when it was over. History class was much better- they were discussing Anglo-French relations prior to the American revolution. It was weird how the situation had switched around — back then the British were hated enemies, and the French Americas closest allies. He wondered whether the British having chips instead of French fries was a historical equivalent of the freedom fries of today. After the class, he waited behind to thank Mr. Blaine for the recommendation.

"A pleasure. It's always good to see someone share your interest in a subject, particularly when they also excel in it. Just do a good job and don't let me down."

"Of course, sir. Mr. Whitmore said you'd let me know what she needed to cover."

"Oh yes. I have it here." He handed Alex a short stack of papers. "This has a listing of the material she's supposed to learn by the end of the semester. Some of it she's already covered in class, but it'll be on the final and she didn't learn it. I'd recommend starting with upcoming material though. That'll do more for her grade."

"Thanks. I'll do that."

"I know. Just relax. You'll do fine. Now, it's lunch time, and I'm hungry. If there's nothing else..."

"Just thanks again. See you tomorrow." He turned and headed to lunch.

When he arrived at the lunch room, his friends were already eating. As he approached the table, Andrea looked up at him and smiled, then silently pulled out the seat next to her for him. Not sure what else to do, he smiled back and took the seat. Her cheeks reddened slightly and she returned her eyes to her food.

Matt and Chris were deep in rapt discussion about a video game they were both addicted to, Katamari Damacy. Alex wasn't really a fan, and Andrea wasn't much for conversation, so he decided to read a bit.

He was a few pages in when he felt something. He looked up just in time to see Andrea turning quickly back to her food. She was probably looking to see what he was reading, he figured. Did she read much, he wondered. He really didn't know much about her, for all that she ate lunch with the three of them virtually every day.

"Do you like to read?" he asked her.

She looked up, her expression opaque beyond showing agitation. "Yes." Her voice was nervous, her manner terse, but there was something in her eyes that made him think she wanted to talk more.

"What kind of things?"

"Lots of stuff." She certainly wasn't giving him any help keeping the conversation going, and every time he made eye contact with her, she broke it to stare at her food or the ground.

"What's the last book you read?"

She silently reached into her bag and handed him a book, titled 'Der Wille zur Macht: Versuch Einer Umwertung aller Werte.'

"Ah, I didn't think of that. What language is that?"

"German."

"Hey, Alex. Is it true that you have to stay late for tutoring with Mrs. Pierson?" Chris broke into their halting attempt at conversation, and Andrea seemed somewhere between disappointed and deeply relieved as she turned back to her food.

"Yeah. I keep getting distracted, and it's hurting my grades."

"Yeah, but I don't see being alone with her being a good way to make you less distracted."

"Yeah, what's with you lately anyways? It sounds like you're going to be spending every evening hanging out with beautiful women." Matt decided to add his two cents worth.

"What's your secret, man?" Chris again.

"Well, apparently doing well in history and badly in math."

"Well anyway, I thought you might need this." Chris held out a small bottle in his hand. Alex took it. It was hand cream.

"What would I need that for?"

"To keep your cock from chaffing!" Matt broke in immediately.

The two of them broke down in laughter at their punch line, and even Alex couldn't suppress a smile, despite his desire not to encourage them. "God, how much do you guys have to practice to be this retarded?"

"Seriously dude, you said you're working at that store on the weekends, too. Doesn't give you much free time." That was Chris again.

"Ah, the store thing may not last. And same for the tutoring job. Besides, staying late at school is only an hour or two."

"Yeah, but still. Sounds like too much work for me."

"Well, I'm not some slacker like you guys."

"Well, this slacker has to go hit the computer lab. I got stuff to do." Matt broke in again, "I'll see you at class." He said to Alex, before leaving.

"Yeah, see you."

Chris stood up as well. "I should head too. I need to hit the library before I head back to class. Later."

Alex said goodbye to his friend before turning to finish his food. Andrea seemed to be done hers, but made no move to leave the table. He tried to think of something to say to her... "Do you read stuff that's in English?"

She smiled and made a sound that he decided must be a giggle, though he hadn't actually heard anyone make it before, before her eyes dropped to her now non-existent lunch. "Sometimes. I don't like reading translations."

"I've heard people say things lose something in translation. I think everyone's heard Mr. Roberts Afrikaans joke."

She giggled again. "Yes."

"I didn't have you pegged for a Nietzsche fan though."

"I'm reading existentialists."

"Oh." Alex was feeling somewhat stunned. He'd been vaguely aware that she was smart, but the knowledge had been somewhat abstract. Before, he had just thought of her as the girl who was good at languages. It hadn't occurred to him that she might have other interests. She never talked about anything, and it never occurred to him that there was a question going unasked. "Are you interested in the philosophy, or just the literature?"

"Both."

He tried to think of something to say, another question, but it took too long. The silence stretched to the breaking point, and Andrea started to stand up, eyes still fixed firmly to the table top. "I have to go." She started to turn and then stopped. "I'll see you tomorrow." And then she was gone.

Alex turned his full attention to his nearly finished lunch, and had time to fill out his History homework before heading to computer science. He dropped it off at the office on the way, and still arrived with minutes to spare. He made his way to his normal place and found Matt missing. He figured he was in the washroom, but roll call came and went and the minutes continued to tick by.

Finally, fifteen minutes into the class he walked in with a black eye and a letter from the school nurse. The teacher read it and bid him take his seat. Alex waited the obligatory ten minutes for Matt to catch up on the class and check his email, then flashed a message to his computer via the network.

"Hey, what happened?"

"Fucking Gary Marshal. Wanted me to do some homework for him."

"And you told him no?"

"Yeah, he's an asshole."

"Which should have led you to realise in advance that you'd get punched out for refusing."

"Oh, I knew. It's worth a black eye to see him in summer school."

"I guess that's one way of looking at it."

"It's the only way. I can't beat him in a fight. If I give in and help him, he might pass. Then all the pain he's given me was for nothing. If he goes to summer school, then however many fights I've lost, I win the war."

"Rather a pyrrhic victory if you end up in traction, though."

"Dude, it's all about pride."

"It shouldn't be."

"Why not?"

"Because pride doesn't get you victory. Pride gets you a glorious last stand.'

"So what should it be about?"

"It should b..." Alex stopped typing. What should it be about? Where had that come from? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that his friend's words had reawakened the smouldering embers of the rage from the day before, and words had come to him. Then they'd gone, leaving him with no idea what he'd been saying. He cast about for a distraction.

"Hey, never mind that. Let's talk about something happy. You know anything about the girl at..." He looked over before resuming typing, "workstation 8b?"

Matt looked over his shoulder and then typed back "No, no clue. Why? She talk to you?"

"No, I just wondered. She's hot."

Matt looked again "You think so? I don't know, dude. You can't really see with the way she's dressed."

"I can see. I don't know what it is, but there's something about her."

"You're just getting desperate, dude."

"Maybe. I'm still curious who she is."