Part 4

Roxanne sat at the table, leafing through a science book and stirring a bowl of oatmeal absently. She was the only one home that night, the only one in the dining room, but the quiet of the two-story house was routine. She was so used to it by now that it just fit into her daily schedule. Her parents both worked, and sometimes didn’t make it home until eight or nine at night. Her mom was a lawyer at a firm in the city, and he dad was the head of a car dealership. Both were incredible work-aholics, and usually left their daughter to fend for herself at night. It was a habit now for the girl to make herself something quick and settle down to eat it alone. To the outside, it might have made a forlorn picture, a solitary figure at a huge table, but to Roxanne, it was life. She excepted it and even liked the quiet she had for a few hours. It was only sometimes that she got lonely for someone to talk to.

Like tonight.

Tonight the usual quiet seemed empty, hollow. The scraping of her spoon on the ceramic bowl was harsh, and the turning of pages was somehow too loud. Roxanne blinked her eyes for a minute and then returned her gaze to the same sentence she had started ten minutes before. Her eyes traveled over the words, seeing them, but grasping nothing. Her mind was on other things.

Like Nicholas.

Like the car ride home, the one that had gone by way too quickly. The feel of the wind as it had slid through the sunroof, his exotic choice of music blasting through the windows, guitar rich jazz swirling around her head. His laugh…and those words that still made her heart gallop when she remembered; “see you tomorrow”

See you tomorrow. And every day after that, Nicholas! Two days ago she had to force herself to get out of bed, to go into that boring school, week after week, month after horrendous month. But now, since she had met Him, it was excitement every morning. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before…it was like…it was like…

The phone screamed at her from the other room. At first she wanted to ignore it, to continue her daydreaming as long as possible, but its persistent cries forced her to move. Pushing her chair out, Roxanne walked into the kitchen. She grabbed the portable from off the wall and nestled it between her neck and shoulder, still traveling. There had to be *something* else in this house to eat besides oatmeal.

“Hello?” She stuck her head inside the pantry and started to rummage around the boxes and cans.

“Hello, is this Mrs. Clark?”

The voice on the other end was deep. A man’s voice. At first she couldn’t place it, but slowly, listening to him pronounce her last name, something started to click inside her head. “I’m just going to assist Ms. Clark in finding the right page…”

Oh God, no!

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

What could she do? Hang up? The box of crackers in her hand dropped to the floor, hitting the tile and opening, spilling pieces everywhere. Why was Mr. Williams calling her? How did he get her number? She had to say something; she couldn’t let him think he was scaring her. He would like that too much. Quick…say *something*!

“She’s not here, can I take a message?” That’s it…keep your tone natural.

“Is this Roxanne?”

Shit.

“Y…Yes. But I’m kind of busy at the minute, so maybe –“

“Is that blond boy over there?”

*What*? Where did that come from? On the other end, her teacher’s voice sounded short. She could just see his eyes slant forward, his hand grip the phone harder. He had no right to ask that. Mr. Williams was her Goddamn English teacher, not her chaperone! His hold on her ended as soon as his class did.

“Listen, I’ll tell my mom you called –“

“I don’t want you involved with him, Roxy. I saw what he’s like today, and I don’t appreciate his tone one bit.”

Was that a hint of anger on the other side of the receiver?

“I really should be getting back to my science –“

“You’re a special girl, Roxy. I don’t want to loose you to –“

His voice disappeared as her finger clicked the talk button on the phone. Slamming it down on the counter, the girl ran her shaking fingers through her hair. He didn’t want to *loose* her? When had he ever *had* her? Walking back into the lonely dining room, Roxanne lowered herself into a seat. It was so disgusting, the way he was talking. And to have the nerve to call her, to pretend like he owned her…Why couldn’t she just press the talk button on him all the time? Why couldn’t she just shut his voice off with a click of a button as soon as he started to talk like that?

Lowering her head into her hands, the girl let the tears finally come. They were tears of frustration, tears of exhaustion, and tears of frightened girl. She couldn’t take this much longer. Keeping it all inside, pretending like everything was normal when it was so horrible. Very soon, she knew, something was going to snap. Just break inside her. It would all come to a boiling point and overflow, spilling everywhere. And there would be nothing in her power to stop it.

Inside his room, Nicholas was sliding back and forth on a rolling chair, pencil behind his ear, eyes forgetting about the homework that lay on his desk. His gaze traveled outside the window, through the glass and towards the stars. His mind was working, and the serious expression displayed how hard.

In all his thinking, he had come to two conclusions: A, he hated Mr. Williams with a passion, and B, he had no real idea why. Sure, the guy had blown up earlier that afternoon at him, but teachers did that a lot, and usually it wouldn’t have fazed him at all. It was something more then that.

It was Roxanne.

His suspicions the first day of class had been right. She had been sneaking into the classroom. Not because she was late, or skipping, or even afraid of getting caught. The way she had kept her eyes on the floor, counted each step…it had been real fear. She was afraid of Mr. Williams. Today had proved his theory even more, the way she shrank away from him when he asked her a question, the way her eyes became huge.

Next to him, the phone rang. He eyed it, wondering who could be calling. He had only been in town for a week and in school for two days. He wasn’t antisocial, but he hadn’t made any real connections yet, except for Roxanne, and she didn’t have his number. Maybe it was for his mother? It was a little late…but it could be the neighbors…

“Hello?”

“Is this Nicholas?”

“That it is, who’s this?” Nicholas took the pencil from behind his ear and twirled it in his fingers, still sliding in his char. The voice on the other end sounded deep, a male. Maybe it was a sales call? God, only one week and they already had his number –

“Nicholas, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to transfer out of my class.”

*What*? The boy stopped sliding in his chair and held his pencil still, leaning a little further over his desk. Who the hell…?

“Excuse me? Who is this?”

“I need you to get out of my English class.”

He should have known. So now the guy was threatening him? Nicholas stood up and started to walk around his room, touching everything and trying to keep his voice calm. Clearing his throat, the boy tired to keep his tone light.

“Mr. Williams, hey, listen, I’m sorry about our little…confrontation today. You know, I read Macbeth such a long time ago, I bet I’ve forgotten so much that it doesn’t even matter!”

“I don’t care about the damn book. Read it a hundred times if you want. Your attitude is what I can’t stand.”

The voice on the other end was getting thinner and thinner, angrier as the seconds wore on. Nicholas stopped moving altogether and just stood in the middle of room, one hand holding the phone and one hand midway through his hair. Running his tongue over his teeth, the boy tried one more time to keep it from getting ugly.

“Listen, you’re right, it was a bad start. How ‘bout I say I’m sorry, and we call it even, huh?”

“I want you out. Tomorrow.”

The receiver slammed down so hard on the other end Nicholas’s ears rung. Slowly taking the phone from his head, the boy inhaled. Dropping onto his bed, Nicholas let the phone fall. Massaging his face with his hands, he tried to keep his breathing steady.

Mr. Williams wanted a fight, that much was painfully clear. For some reason the guy hated Nicholas as much as Nicholas hated him. Subconsciously they both must have noticed something about the other. Something that they hated the minute they sensed it. They were both fighting, that was obvious, but why?

Nicholas wasn’t sure yet, but he knew it was something important.

And he knew it was worth fighting for. Roxanne slid into her seat, almost hiding behind her binder. That morning she had contemplated faking sick. She had almost gone through with it too, but then decided against it. She couldn’t hide from him, no matter how scared she was. That would be like surrendering. Surrendering and letting him do with her whatever he pleased, for as long as he liked.

And that option was *out*.

The desk creaked behind her, and Roxanne turned. Nicholas was settling into his own seat, and gave her a small smile as he stretched out his long legs. Something about his strained expression sent a twang down to her heart. It looked as though he hadn’t gotten much sleep, and was trying to keep it light for her sake.

“Hey, you okay?”

“I’ve been better…” Stifling a yawn, Nicholas reached into his bag and tossed Macbeth onto his desk. He looked down at the book, and for a second his usually animated features became stiff. Snapping his gum, the boy tapped his desk quickly and lifted his eyes.

But Roxanne had seen. She had seen the way his eyes had clouded up, the characteristic way his teeth had ground together. She had seen it all and knew it had something to do with the way he looked.

“Hey, looks like Mr. W isn’t here today! No teacher, *dude*! Someone get that TV workin’!”

David Levitt threw his bag on his desk and walked over to the TV parked in the corner of the room. A group of guys followed, each pushing the other away and trying to fiddle with the dials to get the screen working.

Indeed, it looked as though the room was teacher-less. The bell had already rung, and still, neither teacher nor sub had walked through the door. Some kids took the liberty of shutting it, so that they couldn’t be seen from the outside. No one really wanted to learn 8th period anyway.

Nicholas got up from his seat and walked around to face Roxanne. Taking the empty desk in front of her, he sat backwards in the chair, back facing the table and legs towards hers. Tapping the chair, he nodded his head toward David.

“Do they know that there’s no cable hook up?”

“Nope.”

Roxanne smiled a little, and saw the corners of Nicholas’s mouth turn up, just enough for his left dimple to show. He twisted his neck and watched the group of guys tinker with the rolling television, pushing buttons and smacking the back of it. Some were getting a little agitated and started to nudge the buttons harder then necessary, yelling at the screen and at each other.

“Hey, guys…it’s not gonna work without the cable box…”

Four heads turned towards Nicholas.

“It’s over in the corner, by the cabinets…the cable box…the thing you need?”

The heads looked at each other for a minute, looked back at Nicholas, who nodded, and then looked back at each other. Suddenly they all took off together towards the end of the room, jumping over desks and racing for the cable.

“Hey, thanks, California!” Running past Roxanne and Nicholas, David waved. He put his hands on top of a desk and hoisted himself over it, landing quickly and scrambling to be the first to pick up the little black box. The three other guys were coming on strong, and it looked as though they would all reach the box at the same time. To solve the situation, David decided to dive for it. Throwing himself on the ground, the black haired boy slid across the floor and grabbed the box just in time for three other football playing jocks to land right on top of him.

Nicholas cringed and turned to Roxanne, laughing. The laugh shortly turned into a yawn though, and he couldn’t stop it. Rubbing the side of his head, Nicholas tried to steer clear of his sleepy standpoint.

“Did he just call me *California*?”

“Who, David? Yes. See,” Roxanne leaned on her elbows and touched his hair for a minute, showing the boy his own blond locks, “he thinks you’re from California because you have blond hair. And because you’re so tan.”

“Yeah?”

Looking down and his hands, Nicholas examined them. They were long, but strong at the same time. Graceful, but solid. Kind of like him. He was one of the tallest people Roxanne had ever known, but he wasn’t willowy. His chest and arms looked athletic, and the outlines of his features were obvious. Obvious like his brownish tint, and extreme hair.

“You don’t come from California, do you?” Roxanne tore her eyes away from his fingers and looked at his face, which was cupped in his hands now.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” He smirked. His lips snaked up in a wonderfully executed grin, and his hair fell over his eyes exotically.

Roxanne felt her cheeks threaten to flush. That smirk was something she hadn’t seen before. Something she liked. If it was possible, it made him look better. No…not better…sexier.

“No…I was just…wondering, that’s all. I don’t know much about you, Nicholas. I don’t even think I know your last name. You could be a…a serial killer for all I know.”

“Does that scare you?”

He leaned a little farther in, still smirking, head still resting casually on his hands, hair dipping to one side. Chewing his gun slightly, the boy eased his eyes onto hers.

“Oh, shut up! You’re not a serial killer.”

Hitting his arm, Roxanne leaned back and laughed lightly. She raised her eyes to the sky and looked at him from under her lashes, making a face. She shook her head and stuck her tongue out.

That seemed to engage him farther, his smile got even deeper. He reached around and grabbed his book from behind her, brushing his arm against her shoulder. He raised his eyebrows and snapped the peppermint in his mouth. Giving her a wink, the boy leaned back in his chair.

“Maybe you’ll just have to wait to find out."

“Hey, California, you know how to hook this thing up?”

Limping slightly, David walked over to Roxanne and Nicholas, spoiling the esoteric moment with his loud voice. He held the black cable box in one hand and massaged his ribs with the other. The three guys who had jumped him were also nursing their wounds; rubbing heads and arms as they came up next to him. One of the guys tried to reach for the prize a final time from behind David’s back, but the black haired athlete nailed him in the stomach with a thick elbow.

“I can try.”

Smiling sideways at Roxanne, Nicholas pushed himself up and brought one leg over the seat to meet the other. He stretched for a minute, pulling his long arms over his head and leaning backwards. Then he followed David, walking slowing and easily, towering over the sturdy boy by about three inches.

Roxanne watched as he made his way to the front of the room. Sliding her eyes to her left, the girl noticed she wasn’t the only one. Girls on both sides of the classroom were examining, smiling. They would glance at Nicholas quickly and then to their neighbor, whispering. They watched him get down on his heels next to the TV, balancing on his shoes and turning the cable box in his hands. When he ran his fingers thoughtfully over his hair, the whispers came to a crescendo.

Sometimes eyes would flicker over to Roxanne, and the girl would edge a little farther down into her seat. She didn’t like all the attention, especially when it was slanted. They were making connections between her and the blond boy fixing the TV, and she didn’t like that. She wasn’t afraid of the looks themselves, but of the thoughts churning under them. Roxanne was friendly with many people, and she wasn’t reclusive in the least, but when thoughts turned into tangible words, it usually didn’t matter *what* your position was in high school politics. Rumors spread like the flu, moving from person to person with just a touch. If those girls game to any conclusions, the whole school would be informed in a matter of minutes. Her relationship with Nicholas could be crushed quicker then a mound of sand if he heard something that wasn’t true. *God*, she hoped they would keep their mouths shut!

“Roxy!” A girl on the other side waved to her, smiling. “Come here for a sec.” Her voice was hushed a little, but loud enough to travel across the room. More like a loud whisper.

Why the hell was she whispering? Roxanne wondered, pushing her bag out of the way and starting over. Did she really think no one could hear her? She had only yelled halfway across the classroom…

There were about four other girls sitting in a cluster by the door. She was *not* looking forward to this confrontation, but it would be better to get it out in the open. Better to squish the bug before it took flight.

“Roxy, tell us about that guy!”

Natalie Jacobs, a pretty, fair-haired girl leaned across her desk as Roxanne sat down. She motioned to Nicholas and giggled a little, covering her mouth. “Yeah, how do you know him? What’s he like?”

Tara Callahan, the girl who had beckoned Roxanne over, came over to an empty desk and sat down next to her.

The other girls nodded their heads eagerly. Looking at her friends, Roxanne couldn’t help but feel a little silly, and cramped. She somehow felt she was putting Nicholas on display, talking about him behind his back like this. Besides, she didn’t want to share her wonderful secret. He was hers, if only in her mind. But Nicholas couldn’t stay hidden forever. He was so exotic to this school that soon everyone was going to want to know about him. Unfortunately. “I don’t really know that much…he just drove me home one day when I missed the bus…”

“He drove you home?”

“I heard he has a silver convertible…”

“How old is he?”

The questions flew at her so fast Roxanne almost ducked. She hated this. Lifting her eyes quickly, she saw that Nicholas was still busy with the cable. He was standing again; leaning against the TV and listening to David shout the directions from behind the screen.

“He’s eighteen, I think. A senior. So I guess he’s as old as you guys.” She shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable in this uncomfortable situation.

“How come he hangs around you so much?”

Tara cocked her head slightly and smiled at Roxanne. It wasn’t exactly a friendly smile. More like a, why-is-he-hanging-around-you-and-not-me kind of purse of the lips.

“Uh…he’s…my neighbor. I have to show him around…the school asked me to.” That was a lie. She knew it, Nicholas knew it, but as far as anyone else was concerned, it was the truth. So she stuck with it. It seemed to satisfy the girls, and they looked at each other, nodding.

“*Shit*, we got it!”

David jumped into the air as the screen finally zapped on. The three guys cheered as the picture came into focus, and immediately turned the station to the sports channel, much to the girl’s chagrin.

“Hey, Roxanne, we got the TV working…”

Nicholas looked around the classroom and spotted her. He walked over to the group of girls and tossed his hair from his eyes, smiling wide. He didn’t seem to notice the eight pairs of eyes glued to his face. “Oh, I almost forgot, I wanted to ask you someth…” his voice trailed off as he finally noticed the attention was on him.

Roxanne decided to save the poor boy. He was shifting his gaze from one girl to the next, trying to figure out what the party was. He looked just a little confused.

“Yeah, I remember…you said something about your…your mom.” The girl got up quickly and locked eyes with Nicholas. Lie number two. She just hoped Nicholas caught onto this one before the girls did.

For a second he looked totally lost, but then something seemed to click inside his head. “That’s right. It’s um…kind of private…you know how my mom gets…” He backed away slightly and watched as Roxanne did the same. Looking toward his fan club, the boy gave them all a friendly grin and nod of the head.

“Ladies.”

As the two friends turned back to their side of the room, the tinkling of laughter could be heard from the corner by the door. A chorus of ‘goodbye!’ echoed throughout the room. Roxanne saw Nicholas chuckle a little.

He walked over to the window and leaned against it, turning to Roxanne. “What was that about?”

“They wanted to know all about you. You’re a celebrity here, Nick.”

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows a little, and looked back at the group of girls. They laughed again.

Personally, it made Roxanne sick. But that was just her opinion.

“They keep looking over here, Nicholas.”

“So? Let them look. I’m talking to you, not them.” Giving the girls a wave, the boy turned back to Roxanne. He raised his eyes to sky as the laughter got a little louder. “They laugh at anything I do.”

“Nicholas…I um…have a question.” Roxanne heaved herself onto the sill of the window and sat on the little indent of concrete, holding her knees to her chest and hiding her eyes.

“Sure…hit me.”

“Why…um…” This was going to be hard to get out, but she needed to ask it. It had been on her mind ever since he offered to drive her home the second time, and had intensified after the girls had quizzed her. “Why…are you spending so much time with me? I mean…you’re so…” She kept her face down and waved her hands a little, “so…perfect, I guess…and I’m so…normal. I mean, wouldn’t you rather hang out with some girl who’s more…who’s…I don’t know…” she sighed and decided to spit it out. “Prettier?”

The boy seemed taken back for a minute. There was a pause on his end, and Roxanne lifted her eyes for the first time since her little speech. She tugged at her auburn hair and bit her lip, trying to smile. She kept her legs to her chest, hugging them tightly, for protection.

Nicholas looked at her, head turned sideways a little, chewing his gum quietly. His ocean deep eyes followed her softly, and his mouth grinned gently. For a minute he shut his eyes and brought his fingers to his lips, shaking his head a bit. Then he pushed himself from the wall and came around in front of the sitting girl. Getting down on his heels, he made it so his face was level with hers.

“Roxy, listen –“

“No, wait, there’s more. I feel so stupid saying this but…*God*, Nicholas, I’m a sophomore – a boring one at that. You’re a senior, you’ve got girls hanging off you! I’ve got…” Roxanne looked around and grabbed a dictionary off a desk, “this. Books, English, an advanced vocabulary. Wow, I’m so interesting I make myself sick.”

The boy smiled. Taking the dictionary from her hand, he set it down on the floor. Then he stood. In one quick motion he was off the floor and beside her, sitting on the concrete. His long body barley fit on the small ledge, and Roxanne moved over a little so he could swing his legs around. With his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him, knees raised, he pointed to the window. Tapping the glass, he motioned for her to follow.

“Look at your reflection. I want you to –“

She tried to protest, but he put his palm up, silencing the words.

“Look.”

So she did. The sky was cloudy that day, and her silhouette was easily seen in the glass.

A silhouette of a young woman, pretty mouth half propped up in a smile, brown eyes blinking rapidly from mild embarrassment. Quickly she brushed a strand of soft hair from her face. It was nice hair, smooth, cascading almost to her shoulders. Her complexion was delicate, face just edging away from that of a little girl, but still harboring a little bit of that babyish bulge around the cheekbones. People would tell her for the rest of her life that she reminded them of that woman in Casablanca, the one with ‘the beautiful face’. Indeed, she did have a face that promised to blossom with beauty very soon. Even now, she carried a certain amount of attractiveness with her, although most of the time she was blind to it herself.

“Do you know what I see?” Nicholas asked.

“A window that really needs to be washed?” She joked. Roxanne didn’t feel all too comfortable with this situation. It made her nervous to know he was watching her. So she joked to keep herself from getting too sensitive.

“I see a girl who takes her humbleness for granted.”

“*What*?”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Roxy. You’re so many things, but you don’t take any time to realize it.”

“Realize what?”

“At the risk of sounding like a Kodak add,” Nicholas continued, “you’re going to be the kind of girl guys write songs about. And the sweet thing is, you have no idea.”

“Nicholas, what are you talking about? You sound like a fortune cookie.”

She shook her head and muddied her vision of the reflection. What was he trying to tell her? She didn’t see anything spectacular in that window.

*A girl that guys would write songs about…*

What did he mean by that? All she had seen was a girl who looked too young and who was too short, and who needed a haircut. Of course she had no idea. There was nothing to have an idea *about*.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

His hands were resting in back of his head, and his eyes had a twinkle to them. He shook his head slightly and studied her. Not an invading study, more like an open door. He seemed to be looking for something inside her, but at the same time, giving her something to understand as well.

But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Damnit, shut it off, shut it *off*! Mr. W is coming!”

The classroom erupted into a melee of voices and action as David shouted from his perch by the door. Kids ran from all directions, pushing chairs and jumping over desks to get to their assigned places. They shoved hands into bags and yanked English binders and books as fast as they were able. Three guys were immediately over by the TV, throwing cables and wires everywhere. Peering out the door and waving his arms like a drunk crossing guard, David remained at the head of the room.

“Go, *go*! Get that cable out of here!”

“Where do I put it?” A huge boy clad solely in Nike wear looked stricken as he grasped the black box. “I forget where it goes!”

“Then just…throw it!”

“*Throw* it?”

“Yes!”

“Um, how ‘bout we don’t, okay?” Nicholas grabbed the Nike Add’s arm just seconds before he let the cable go. Taking it carefully from his hands, Nicholas backed away. Then he dipped under the desk and set the box down. “There, see? Now he thinks *he* put it there.”

“Hey, thanks, dude!” The big guy gave Nicholas a friendly swat on the arm as they both took off towards their own desks.

By the time the door handle started to turn, everyone was back where they were supposed to be. Some even went as far as to pretend that they were reading Macbeth on their own. David was one of those, practically crossing his eyes he was concentrating so hard. The room was empty of noise for the moment, all of the students holding their breath as the wooden door swung slowly.

Roxanne was trying to keep her heart from giving her away, trying to breathe as shallowly as possible to slow her heart. She felt tension behind her. Nicholas seemed to be stiffening as well. Maybe he was undergoing the horribly familiar tightening of the muscles Roxanne endured every time Mr. Williams entered a room.

If so, the girl felt very sorry for him.

“Sorry class, I apologize for coming late, but I was working out some kinks in my student ratio.”

Nicholas opened his book and slammed the cardboard cover on his desk.

“Everything looks surprisingly good in here, considering.”

Mr. Williams set his briefcase down on his desk. He moved over to grab a pencil, but tripped before his hand reached it. Looking down, he saw the object that had caused the upset. He bent and picked up the black cable box, eyeing it. Turning it over in his hands, the man wondered out loud.

“Now, why would I put that thing here…?”

The class tried to hold their tongues, but it was no use. Tiny bits of laughter leaked from the sides of the aisles and down the middle. Nicholas joined them, chuckling in his animated way, holding his face with a hand.

Mr. Williams looked up, and for some abstract reason, homed right in on Nicholas.

“Something funny, Nicholas?”

Clearing his throat, the boy prepared his answer carefully. “No…nothing at all.

“It’s…nothing.”

“You know, as I recall,” the teacher set the box down and started over to the end group of desks, “you were scheduled to leave this class.”

Roxanne sucked in her breath and risked a look at Nicholas. She twisted her neck and looked at him, asking him silently about the situation. The only answer she got back was a quick finger to his lips. He seemed to be telling her not to worry. He would take care of it.

A shadow made her turn around, and the girl came face to waist with Mr. Williams. For once he wasn’t looking at her, but the way his eyes narrowed at Nicholas, she almost wished he were. She didn’t want Nicholas to be put through this again. She hated to see him harassed in this way. She hated to see *anyone* tortured like this.

“I was? That’s news to me.”

The boy gave nothing anyway. His tone was completely even, his movements clean and without tension. He was matching wits with Mr. Williams, staring into the mouth of the lion without flinching. And he was doing it gracefully, just the way a hero is supposed to.

“*Really*…Interesting. Nicholas, why don’t you join me outside?”

“Are you sure you want to waste any more –“

“I insist.”

“Well then, after you.” Nicholas waved his hand causally, letting Mr. Williams walk in front of him. Then pushing himself up, the boy followed. He caught Roxanne’s eye before he left their side of the room, and winked.

As heads turned and watched, the two men made their way towards the door. Many of the guys, especially David and Nike Boy, gave thumbs up to Nicholas as he passed them.

“Get the Jackass, California.” David whispered. He picked Macbeth up and punched it, showing Nicholas just what he meant.

The only thing that sojourned Roxanne’s heart from completely dropping to her feet was the fact of height on Nicholas’s part. He was a good two inches taller then Mr. Williams, and though on the outside looked a little leaner, was probably stronger in the long run. Those two factors were the only two saving graces in this situation. Other then that, Roxanne could so no good coming out of this. She felt sick, literally. Her stomach was kneading itself into a ball; cramping up and sending shots of pain to her sides. Her head was swimming in a deep sea of thoughts and fears, without a lifesaver in sight.

*Please God*, she prayed, *let him beat this*.

Let Nicholas beat him.

Let her White Knight come out victorious.

“So, are they like, gonna fight?” A kid from the back of the room piped up after the door clicked shut behind the two men, cutting the class off from the action.

“No, retard, Mr. W is probably just going to give him hell for talking back.” One of the David Levitt trio turned around and faced the questioning student.

“I wish they would. Old California could kick the shit out of him, I bet.”

David jumped up onto his desk and sat facing the door, trying to look through the fogged over glass window. He cocked his head to one side and peered as far as his neck would let him. “*God* I hate that guy. I hope they do fight.”

Outside, Mr. Williams was mad enough to do just as David wished, and if he had initiated a move; Nicholas probably wouldn’t have stopped him. They both stood, casually as their anger would let them, waiting for the other to speak.

“Listen, Nicholas,” the normally unfazed teacher was growing very anxious with this hotshot, but was holding off as long as possible for reputation’s sake. “Why can’t you be a sport and just do what I tell you, huh?”

“With all do respect, Mr. Williams –“

“Call me Jake. All my other friends do.”

“With all do respect, *Jake*,” Nicholas scratched the back of his head, hoping his tone didn’t give his distaste away, “what you’re asking me to do is totally out of the question.”

“I think it would be better for everyone if you left us.”

“But this is the highest English class there is, I need it to graduate.”

“I’m sure there’s a way to side step that little obstacle –“

“*Little*? I’d say me either going to collage or working in a gas station all my life wouldn’t exactly be classified as *little*.”

Jake William’s fuse was burning fast, faster each time the kid raised his smart-ass eyebrows or smiled in that aggravating way. He had tried to be civilized, tried to talk man to man. He had given all the hints possible, but that blond idiot either ignored them or brushed them away. He was getting tired now. Tired of spelling every damn thing out. Tired of fighting over something, *someone*, who belonged to him in the first place. Before Nicholas had sauntered into the picture, Roxanne had been shy, easy to manipulate - more fun. But now…now she was starting to look at him differently, act more in control. And that was not what he wanted. Not from her.

“Okay, let’s try it this way. I don’t like you and I don’t want you in my class.”

“You’ll be happy to know the feeling’s mutual.” Nicholas hadn’t meant for it to come out as smoothly as it did. He hadn’t meant to indicate anything. Fighting wasn’t really his forte, and you’d never find he egging anyone else on. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, he just didn’t…like it.

But Mr. Williams didn’t know that. He didn’t know the twang in Nicholas’s tone was accidental, nor did he know the smile was just pure nerves.

“Alright, Ace, come on. Let’s go.” The teacher angrily thumbed down the hallway.

“Where are we going?”

“The office.”

“*What*?” Nicholas instinctively backed away a little, touching the wall with his fingertips. The office? Now what had he done? Probably looked at him funny, or breathed the wrong way. He wouldn’t go. He wasn’t going to the office for raising the wrong eyebrow.

“Come on.” Jake took hold of Nicholas’s arm and started to pull him down the corridor.

“No.”

He shook free. He wasn’t going. Not for this – not because a teacher didn’t *like* him. Not because he was –

Jealous.

That was *it*. Nicholas opened his eyes wider and locked onto his teacher’s face. Why the hell hadn’t he figured it out before? Why else do you hate someone for no reason? Why else do you embarrass them, harass them, and do everything in your power to make them miserable? Nicholas had felt envy before, he knew. You could see it in a person’s eyes if you understood what you were looking for. And now that he did, things fit into place so nicely. Mr. William’s squinted features weren’t angry, they were jealous.

And the thing they had been fighting for - Nicholas realized it now.

Roxanne.

The teacher recoiled a little as Nicholas’s introspection slapped him in the face. Comprehension can be found in the eyes just as easily as jealousy can. The way the boy straightened up a little, the way his mouth opened slightly. He knew. Jesus *Christ*. He knew.

“Stay away from her.”

“Let’s go, Ace, down to –“

“Stay away from her.” Nicholas pushed Mr. Williams away from him. His voice became soft, his jaw worked back and forth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Brush it off. Try to ignore it. Jake lightened his tone in an attempt to sidestep the conversation.

“No wonder she’s so afraid of you.”

“Listen kid,” Mr. Williams grabbed Nicholas’s arm for the second time, harder now. Things were going from annoying to serious. All bets were off. He was a man, damn it, and he would not be told what to do by an eighteen-year-old moron. “Shut the hell up.”

“If you touch her, I swear…” His voice trailed off as Nicholas searched for the right words. He didn’t even bother to move. His eyes just searched his teacher’s, running over and over his taunt face. The guy was sick. Who knew how long he had been torturing Roxanne? Who knew if Roxanne was the only one? He shouldn’t be allowed to live in this society, let alone *teach*. The boy felt his fingers climb up his palms, slowly building into fists. Something was going to happen. It had to.

“Hey, Mr. W, you done yet? We’re all just sitting in there and…”

David stuck his head through the wooden door and immediately wished he hadn’t. He had just wandered into a very dangerous situation, that much was painfully clear. Nicholas and Mr. Williams stood facing each other, looking as though they fancied to have the other tied behind a car and dragged down the Interstate. David Levitt didn’t know much about English, but he did know about people. And the two men in front of him didn’t look like they were discussing a simple seating problem.

“You know what David, why don’t you give us more second, okay?”

It wasn’t a question, and Mr. Williams didn’t even raise his eyes to look at the second student. David held fast onto the door, frozen in the butter-thick tension. His mind told him to get the hell out of there, but his gut told him to stay.

“David, it’s okay, man. I’ve got this.”

Nicholas did raise his eyes. He looked at David and calmly nodded a little. His usual smile was wiped clean from his face, but he didn’t look frightened. He looked in control.

Maybe that was why David let his hand drop from the mahogany. He stepped back a little and returned the small nod. As the door slowly in front of him, the black haired boy exhaled a very stale breath. *Shit*…what the fuck was going on?

“So? Dude, what are they doing out there? It’s freakin’ two o’clock! School’s almost over and…and we haven’t even opened our books!” A boy in the back of the classroom stood up and shouted towards David. He spoke with a nervous stutter that the whole class was feeling. Realizing that he did indeed sound unstrung, the kid tried to half-heartily make up for it. “Not…not that I care, or anything.”

“David?” Roxanne came up behind her friend and grabbed his shoulder. Her fingers were tight and cold enough to soak through his cotton shirt.

“Roxy…I don’t know what’s going on. But I think…” David turned around and faced her, doing everything he could to keep his voice from creaking, “I think…he’s got it under control.”

“You can’t prove a thing – even if there was something to prove.” Mr. Williams slid over to the door and held the knob, stopping any more unexpected visits.

“I bet Roxanne can.”

“It’ll be what she says against what I say.” The teacher’s eyes started to cloud up as he prepared to defend himself, but something stopped them from going completely dark. His mouth suddenly twitched as the gears inside his head clanked into overtime. A different approach. Catch the kid off guard…

Shaking his gel-ridden head, Mr. Williams tipped his eyes to the sky and chuckled. He let go of the door and crossed his arms over his chest, gazing at Nicholas with a newly amused demeanor “Okay, you know what? This is ridiculous. I’m passing judgements on you and your doing the same to me, and both have no merit what-so-ever!” Throwing his hands up, the man grinned. “So here’s the deal, I let you stay in my class, and you just forget this whole conversation.”

Nicholas tucked a piece of his blond hair behind an ear and eyed his teacher. What was this guy doing? His attitude change was so abrupt that the boy couldn’t follow. Of course he wanted to continue this argument, not for anger’s sake, but for Roxanne’s sake, but one thing that Mr. Williams had said was true: he had no proof. Even if Roxanne went to the principal, probably nothing would come out of it but getting on Mr. William’s bad side. And he wouldn’t put her through that. He hated even putting her through *this*, this knowledge that she was in the middle of argument.

So maybe he should just agree with Jake this time. Swallow his pride and shake the outstretched hand that was pointed towards him. Not because he wanted to, but because he needed to. He would do it for Roxanne.

Nicholas hadn’t meant to step right into trouble the minute he came to this place, but now that it had happened, he excepted it. Besides, if he hadn’t stumbled across this cheap imitation of a man, he would never have met Roxanne. And her brown eyes more then made up for his sly green ones.

“Deal?”

“Deal.”

The two shook hands, holding on just a little longer then needed, squeezing just a little more then was acceptable. And watching the other for any sign of trickery.

The classroom immediately hushed as the door swung open. Mr. Williams walked straight toward his desk and Nicholas followed, hands sliding through his hair. As student passed teacher, Mr. Williams patted him on the back, friendly like.

Only Roxanne saw Nicholas flinch, ever so slightly, as the man touched him.

“I apologize again, class. Nicholas and I were just trying to figure out his schedule.”

David interrupted, quietly, from the back of the classroom. He kept his face down, but he was just loud enough for everyone to hear. “It sure didn’t look like that…”

“But everything’s straightened out now. He’ll be staying with us.”

Mr. Williams walked down the aisle and stopped next to David, who slid even further into his seat. The man looked down and smiled at the boy, patting him on the shoulder. He acted as though he had heard nothing.

“I’m sure you were all reading, David especially. That is, if you can remember how to open a book, Mr. Levitt.”

The class shifted uncomfortably. They didn’t know whether to laugh or stay silent. Usually it would have been taken as a good-natured jeer, but something about the rigid way the teacher was standing stopped their laughter in their throats.

David raised his eyes and just looked at Mr. Williams, saying nothing and moving nothing. There were so many comebacks he could think of, so many things to shoot out, but the boy decided to keep his mouth closed. This was an argument he didn’t want to get in the middle of. It already looked bigger then he could handle.

“Hey, Roxy…”

Sliding into his seat on the other side of the room, Nicholas whispered to the small girl in front of him, just to make sure she knew everything was okay.

She didn’t turn around.

So he tried again.

“Hey, you’re riding home with me today, right? Maybe I’ll even let you sit in the driver’s seat for once…huh?” He smiled and playfully tugged a strand of her hair. “Just don’t go crashing into any –“

“Nicholas.”

Her voice was caught and softer then normal. It had a strange waver to it that he didn’t understand - until she turned around. She swung around quickly and grabbed his hand, holding like it was the only thing that kept her afloat. Her eyes, that captivated the boy every time he looked into them, were glassy. A small tear was running down one cheek, following the trial of an earlier one. Her chin was quivering and she was swallowing hard to keep the emotion to a minimal.

It killed him inside to see her so frightened. The tear sent a stabbing pain into his chest and all at once he wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly. He wanted to hold her until she smiled again.

But he couldn’t do that, not with ten minutes left in the day and the rest of the class reading Shakespeare out loud. All the boy could do was take his free hand and wipe the tear from her cheek with a thumb. All he could do was look into her eyes and smile gently. All he could do was say, softly…

“It’s alright. I promise you, everything’s alright.”

And she had to believe that. It was all he could say without creating any more distraction. He wanted to tell her so much more, but it wasn’t possible. At least not until they got out of that retched class.

As the girl smiled a little and turned back around, he could see her wipe the rest of water from her face. She straightened up a little and picked up her book, turning to the right page.

He just hoped she believed him. Even if he didn’t believe himself. They had been driving in a kind of cramped silence. Nicholas holding the wheel with one hand and resting the other outside the window, and Roxanne sitting with her legs pulled to her chest. Both hadn’t said much the entire ride. To tell the truth, they hadn’t said much after the bell rang either, or walking to his car.

Roxanne had been too shaken up to risk much of anything, and Nicholas was just plain confused.

If Mr. Williams’s plan was to mystify the boy with his switch of attitude, he had done a swell job executing it. For the rest of the class, and all during the fifteen-minute ride, Nicholas had been trying to figure out what the game was. He had been thinking so hard, in fact, that he hadn’t noticed Roxanne’s occasional hand swipe to her face. He hadn’t noticed the quiet tears.

Pulling up towards her driveway, Nicholas easily guided his car around her mailbox and up the small hill. He grabbed the emergency brake and yanked it up, causing the car to grind to halt. For a second boy and girl sat there, looking out the windshield, deciding what to do.

Finally concluding he should say something, Nicholas pushed his shades up and turned towards Roxanne.

That’s when he noticed her.

*Really* noticed her. Her shaky expression, her wet cheeks, her blinking brown eyes, everything. He saw this and was instantly bombarded with the need to hold her again. He felt selfish for ignoring her all this time and wanted to prove to her he hadn’t done it on purpose. She just looked so small and scared, huddled like that. Like a deer after being chased by a hunter, her breath was quick and fast, and she didn’t seem to know where to focus her gaze.

“Roxy, God…I…”

He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she winced and he let his hand drop. He wasn’t sure what fell faster, his fingers, or his heart.

“No, I’m…I’m okay. Don’t worry.”

She brushed her hair away from her face and held her legs tighter. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to leave, to get away. But it wasn’t Nicholas she was running from.

She was running from herself. From those feelings that were being thrown around inside her like a clothes dryer. She just didn’t know how to tell him that. She knew it was hurting him, the way his features had crumbled when she had flinched from his touch…

*Nicholas, it’s not you!*

“Roxanne, could you just…look at me?”

Her head felt too heavy for her neck, but she twisted it anyway. She looked at him, the boy who had fought for her twice. The boy she had thrown into this battle the minute he had smiled at her. The boy she was making miserable. His blue eyes were wide and worried, and his mouth kept opening and closing, trying to figure out what to say.

Well, she’d save him from that. *You don’t have to say anything, Nicholas. You’ve already said enough.*

“Nicholas, it’s not you. I don’t…I don’t know what’s going on exactly, but you’re not on the opposing team. I would never…I don’t…mean to hurt you like this. I just can’t…”

Her tightening throat choked off her voice. If she said anymore, she would most assuredly burst into tears.

“Roxanne, can you come with me?”

“What?” She swallowed.

“Can you come with me somewhere? Are your parents going to miss you?”

“They don’t get home until eight…why?”

“I want to show you something.”

His voice was soft, but his actions were determined as he pulled the emergency break and backed down her driveway. Once they were safely on the road again, he looked over at her and smiled for the first time since 8th period.

“You’ll like this. I promise you.”

His tone was almost childlike, as if he were a toddler showing his mother a flower he had picked just for her. He was half asking, half telling.

He would make her feel better. It hurt like ice in his stomach to watch her wither like that. He would bring her back into bloom. He knew just the place.

Part 5