Part 7

“David? How you doing, kid?”

Nicholas rested his arms on the hospital bed’s metal rim and smiled down at the sleepy eyed boy. Roxanne was beside him, cupping David’s right hand in hers and trying not to focus on the ugly bruise above the patient’s temples.

“Hey…California…what’s up?”

The voice was dry, a little weak, but unmistakably David’s. The characteristic gleam in his brown eyes was the only thing that seemed to still be in healthy, working order.

“Nothing much, how about you? They treating you good in here?”

David laughed a little, then grimaced at the pain. Obviously, laughing wasn’t much fun for him. He tried to smile; however his chapped lips allowed only a small grin to appear for a moment. The dark-haired boy’s face was clean, but tiny, jagged cuts zigzagged across his cheeks and forehead. His left cheek had an unsightly purple blotch soaked through it and one eye didn’t open completely. His usually shiny hair was matted down to his face, ugly with trademark hospital greasiness. A light green hospital sheet covered the rest of his body, so if there was any more hurt under it, his two friends couldn’t see.

“The food sucks but you know,” he slowly moved a hand up to his mouth, like he was whispering a secret, “some of the nurses here are pretty hot.”

Roxanne chuckled. Even in this depressing state, David was able to make her laugh. Which was why she couldn’t bring herself to think about his beaters, or the man most probably responsible for it. Gazing down at the worn boy surrounded by beeping hospital machines, Roxanne wondered if it was possible for her to hate someone more then she hated Mr. Williams. Her anger towards the man felt larger then her very body, pulsing through her veins faster then her blood.

If she weren’t so deathly afraid of the man, Roxanne would definitely have done something by now.

“They won’t let us stay here long, we just wanted to say hi. If there’s anything we can do though, just ask.” She rubbed her fingers over David’s limp hand, willing some of her energy to infuse his skin.

“With him,” David pointed to Nicholas; “I can’t do much for the offer. But with you…” His words trailed off as he tried to smile again, “There are definite possibilities.”

“I’ll take a rain check on that one.” She squeezed his hand once before sliding her fingers from his.

“Moving in on the girls even while you’re hooked up to an IV, very smooth, my brother.” Nicholas gave David one of his trademark winks and patted his hand. He didn’t even know the kid that well, but he could already tell they would get along just fine. He liked the way David smiled, even when his smile was laced with pain.

Roxanne and Nicholas backed away a little, stepping around an incoming nurse. The woman was wheeling in a tray, set up nice with some unidentifiable courses of food.

“One thing I’m gonna miss when I leave this place,” David called to his friends, “are the excellent nine course meals.”

“Bye, David. We’ll see you soon. Promise.”

Roxanne smiled and waved, leaning against Nicholas. She needed his extra support; she could already feel her limbs growing weak with sadness.

“See ya, Roxy.”

They stepped outside the quiet room, but both caught the boy’s last salutation before the white door slid shut.

“Bye, Nicholas.”

Not dude, not buddy, not even California. Just plain Nicholas.

For some strange reason, that caused Roxanne’s impending sadness valve to burst. She almost collapsed on a bench outside the room, holding her face and letting the wetness travel down her cheeks. It was all she could do to remind herself to breathe between the sobs.

“Roxy…” Nicholas sat down next to the sobbing girl. For a moment he didn’t know what to do and was paralyzed with the awkwardness of the situation. But instinct took over before his brain did, and the boy quickly wrapped his arms around her. He sat there and held her tight, face buried in her brown hair, eyes shut with emotion. Nicholas could feel Roxanne’s body shake under him, and he responded by holding tighter.

“Shhhh…Roxanne…it’s okay. I’m here.”

“I…I *hate* him!”

Her voice was muffed, and tiny, but the venom was there. She was talking about Mr. Williams. It wasn’t David at all who was making her cry like this, it was that man. If you could even call him that.

*Damn you*, Nicholas thought, *can’t you just let her go? She’s done nothing to you, but you’re tearing her apart!*

“We’re going to get him, we’re going to beat him.” He kissed the top of her head and continued to hold her, talking into her silky brown hair.

“How?”

Lifting her head up, Roxanne searched Nicholas’s eyes, her face wet and her sweet mouth quivering. “How are we going to be beat him? He’s so Goddamn slick, he gets away with *everything*!”

“He *used* to get away. Things are going to be different now. I’m here, okay?” Rubbing her cheeks with his thumbs, Nicholas made sure Roxanne knew that he meant it.

“I’m so scared. I don’t want him to hurt me like…I don’t…”

The girl broke down again and fell against Nicholas’s chest. She grabbed his shirt and held it, almost as though she was afraid of drowning in her own tears. The way her body moved he was sure she was trying to hold the weeping in as much as she could.

“Roxy…listen to me, I won’t let him hurt you.”

This time, it was Nicholas who lifted Roxanne’s head. He held his hand gently under her chin and pushed some hair from her eyes. His ocean gaze was soft and hard at the same time, like velvety snow that’s been frozen over with ice. “I swear, I won’t let him touch you. I’ll kill him before I let him near you again.”

And she believed him. Nicholas, who hated fighting, who always tried to talk his way out of a bad situation, would unquestionably kill the man if he had to. It was in his eyes.

*He’d kill for you, Roxanne.*

She gulped down the rest of her sobs and tried to ease her breathing back into familiar territory. His touch gave her strength, and his flawless expression gave her the power to stop the soreness in her throat.

“I promise.”

He looked less like a boy and more like a hero every time he spoke. Like a fairy tale champion, blond hair casting a shadow over his forehead, strong arms holding her, eyes wide and open.

*He’d kill for you…*

She wanted to tell him then and there what her heart was shouting. Didn’t every fairy tale state that if the White Knight was ready for kill for you, he was worthy of your love?

Love.

Her mind hadn’t stumbled over the word with the usual childlike naiveté of before. No laughter followed, no embarrassed flush to the face, it had been effortless. She had coasted over it with ease, letting it fall from her head to her heart without any snags along the way. Pure and unconditional.

Love.

“Can you stand up?”

He held her arms as she pushed herself up from the bench. Wrapping his long arms around her shoulders, the boy helped Roxanne walk down the bustling hall. Every so often he would look at her and smile a little, informing her that his word was as true as his beauty. He would keep her safe.

**** “Bernhide Police department, how may I direct your call?”

The woman’s voice was nice, motherly. Nicholas, who’s own mother was barley ever home, immediately felt a kinship to it. He never had heart to heart chats with his mom anymore, how could he if she –

“Hello?”

“Hello, I’m still here, sorry.” He was sitting in his rolling chair again, swinging his ankles ever so slightly, moving just a little. Outside his open window an evening breeze tickled the spring branches of a huge oak. It was warmer that night, inching towards summer like a snail, but still, getting there.

“How may I direct your call?”

“Actually, I just need someone to…help me with a question.”

There was a pause at the other end. It seemed as though the operator had been trained for every imaginable situation except: the simple question.

“What…what kind of question? Something concerning your health?” She sounded hopeful. Emergencies she could deal with, random questions were harder.

“It’s about…a situation. Maybe this isn’t the best place to call…”

“*Oh*!” The woman could almost be heard sighing with relief. “I think I know who you want to talk to. We have a woman here, a Miss Shirley Danvers, she’s our resident social worker. She deals with those kinds of… circumstances. I’ll transfer you.”

“That won’t be necess –“

The phone clicked before he could finish his sentence. Nicholas hadn’t meant for this to be a huge deal, he just wanted to ask a question. He didn’t need a social worker. He wasn’t about to commit suicide, although that’s probably what the operator on the other end thought. The way she had said *circumstances*…either that or that he had gotten some girl pregnant. They always expected the worst. Probably came with the territory, though, working in a police station.

“Hello?”

This voice was a little younger, and not as friendly. In the background, he could hear some papers being shuffled. She better not be taking *notes*.

“Hi, I um…had a question about a certain situation.”

“Could I have your name please?”

He hadn’t counted on that. Giving his name was not a good idea, considering what he was about to ask. Giving any personal information was probably a big no-no here. He’d have to bluff his way through it.

Nicholas swung around to his desk and sifted through the homework papers, magazines, and CD covers that littered the wooden table. *Quick…find something!*

“Hello? Sir, may I have your name please?”

“It’s…um…” Nicholas covered his eyes and blindly picked a CD cover. “Chet Baker; the Italian Sessions” shouted up at him in black writing. Under the plastic cover, his favorite jazz musician’s picture was captured, blowing into his trademark trumpet. “It’s Chet.”

“Chet?”

“Uh…yeah.” He hoped that sounded believable. If she asked for his last name, he was screwed.

“Okay, Chet, why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

“It’s sort of a hard situation. I wanted to know…about my rights. Say I have this teacher,” *who shouldn’t be teaching at all*… “Who was really bothering a friend of mine,” *making her life hell…* “But I really didn’t have any proof of his actions except my own word.” *And an innocent kid in the hospital…* “Could I bring this to the…authorities?” *Get the guy kicked out so he’ll never do this again…*

“Hang on there, Chet. Are you telling me you have a teacher who’s crossing the line?” Her voice took a very concerned tone and he could hear that rustle of paper again. What was she *doing*?

“Well, yeah, sorta. But not with me, with a friend of mine.”

“What is he doing to this…*friend*?”

Damn, now she thought he was talking about himself. Why did they always assume you were talking about yourself? Couldn’t someone, somewhere in the world, actually have a friend to help out? Or did they all suppose every human who called was a hermit?

Nicholas sighed. He wasn’t about to correct her, but the next few sentences were going to sound very odd if she thought he was talking about himself.

“My friend is very uncomfortable because the guy is…making comments, and scaring her, threatening, hurting her friends. He treats her like he owns her, and I think it’s getting worse.”

“The teacher is a male? And your friend…she’s a girl?”

*No, he always referred to himself in the third person, and as a girl.* Nicholas raised his eyes to the ceiling and started to drum his fingers on the desk, getting just a little annoyed with the woman and her inane questions.

“Yes.”

“Well, if he really is crossing the line, you should definitely tell her to bring it to the principal’s attention before it gets any worse.”

“But then she’s going to have to put her word against his, isn’t she? Since there’s no proof.”

“I’m afraid that’s what it’ll have to come to if this gets serious. It would be better if you could attain some witnesses, though.”

*What if all the witnesses are getting knocked off?* Nicholas saw how this situation was going to turn out. If anything, it was going to be him and Roxanne against one of the most favored teachers in high school. “What if I wanted to bring it to someone’s attention now, before things get out of hand? Is it alright that I don’t have any one to back me up?”

“Of course. I do urge you to get some patrons, but safety is always the main issue here. Tell someone before it’s too late, before your friend, gets hurt.”

If she said *friend* with that little dip in her voice one more time, he was going to slam down the phone.

“And please, don’t hesitate to call me if this situation becomes larger. And don’t hesitate to tell other people.”

“I won’t –“

“Would you like my extension number? I’ll just give it to you so you can call me-“

But Nicholas had already hung up. Her assuming voice had pushed the wrong buttons, and he had to open and close his fists to keep the mounting anger at bay. It must have been the tone of voice she was using, he usually didn’t get so upset over something so small, but his temper desired her extension number about as much as he desired a migraine.

He didn’t need a resident social worker to tell him that he was fighting an uphill battle. He didn’t need someone to state there was a chance no one would believe them and label them liars. *He knew all of that*.

He had called to get some comfort, Godammit! To have someone assure him that everything was going to work out in his favor! Why couldn’t she just tell him what he wanted to hear?

*Because that was the comfortable way.*

Pushing himself up and running his hands through his hair, Nicholas understood why she had gotten him so agitated. Not because she had used that condescending tone with him, but because she hadn’t given him the answer he so desperately needed. The nice answer, the easy one.

*‘Don’t worry, what ever happens, they’ll believe you. You’re going to win, the good guys always do.’*

The answer, that deep down inside, he knew could never be.

Tomorrow, he would go with Roxanne. He would help her, hold her hand, and keep her brave. Whatever happened, if people trusted them or not, they would fight together. He had been silent for too long, she had ignored it too much. There was no easy answer, but he would strive with all his being to make sure his brown-eyed girl was safe, finally, once and for all. Of course he would, he had promised.

How hard it would be to keep that promise, Nicholas was about to find out.

“Today? I…isn’t that jumping the gun a little?”

She held her English binder against her chest tightly, biting her lip and leaning against her locker. The hallway was teeming with kids going from seventh period to eighth, and Nicholas had to lean over her, steadying himself with an outstretched hand on the wall above the blue lockers, to avoid behind hit by a body or bag.

“Roxy, we’ve got to do this. Now, *today*. We’ve got to confront him, both of us, in broad daylight.”

His blue eyes sparkled with determination, and his lips played halfway between a grin and an urgent line. Standing under him like that, looking square into his face and in full contact with that fresh cologne he seemed to live in, Roxanne could almost forget there was any problem at all.

“In front of everyone? Nicholas, I don’t think that’s a good idea…I…really don’t.”

“So we’ll do it after class. She said it would better if we could get some witnesses but –“

“Who said?” The girl could feel her stomach grab a rope and get set to start Double Dutch. She did not want to do this; she did *not* want to *do* this.

“Some lady I called.” He saw her eyes go large and he quickly added, “Anonymously. Just to ask her a few questions.”

“So…what? After class we go up to him and tell him we’re on to his little game? I think he already knows that, and it doesn’t bother him much.”

“No, we tell him-“ Nicholas was struck in the side with a bag and almost toppled over. He caught his footing, but only after smacking into a jetting corner of the wall. Rubbing his shoulder, the blond boy looked out into the hall, trying to spot the culprit.

“Hey, sorry. Didn’t see you there, *Nicholas*.”

A huge senior smirked at the couple as he held out his hand and bent down a little, almost in a simulated bow. “My mistake, I’ll be more careful next time.” Making his suitable scene, the boy continued his saunter down the crowded hallway.

“Who the hell was that?” Nicholas turned towards Roxanne and raised his eyebrows. *More important, how did he know my name?*

“It’s…” At first she had no idea. Bernhide High was not a huge school, but there were enough to kids to get confused. There was no way for Roxanne to know everyone’s face, but the way the kid had almost spat out Nicholas’s name, that smirk…he had to be –

“A friend of Rob McEnzie. Oh *shit*.”

“What? McEnzie, who’s that?”

Her face had suddenly gone chalk white. That could not be a good sign.

“He’s the nutcase who beat up David.” She grabbed Nicholas’s sleeve and started to pull him down the hallway. As they got closer to the English room, her stomach started it’s first round of jump rope, but she ignored it. “He’s Rob McEnzie’s friend. I’ve seen them together. He wasn’t one of the three who got David, but they’re close. They like to hang outside the bathrooms together and duck tape the freshman.”

“What does he want with me?”

“Somehow he must have found out about your connection with David and Mr. Williams. Remember how I said the guy was all buddy-buddy with the seniors? He probably - oh God…” Roxanne’s hand flew up to her mouth as her mind went even farther. “How many people has he told? What if…what if they’re after *you* now?”

“Roxy,” Nicholas took her hand and eased it gently from her face. He held between his own. He was smiling now, not scared in the least. In fact, his grin was almost humorous. “You’re starting to sound like you think the whole school is out to get us.” His dimple became obvious as his grin widened, “I guarantee, we’re not Berhinde’s most wanted.”

“But, what about that kid?” *Didn’t he understand? Why wasn’t he worried?*

“A friend of McEnzie’s, like you said. He’s just probably angry his buddy isn’t coming to school for a while. Probably blames me for something, although I wasn’t the one who told the idiot to beat up David.” He scratched his head and rested his tongue on the side of his smiling mouth, showing just how little he cared about the little encounter. “Mr. Williams is a bastard, but he’s not a Mafia leader. He doesn’t have the whole school waiting behind corners and taping our conversations. He hasn’t bet money on our heads…" He saw Roxanne smile at that, and kept going. “And I’m damn sure we’re not blacklisted. Don’t worry, kid. The only person we need to worry about is –“

Mr. Williams chose that moment to walk past the two into his classroom. Nicholas stopped talking immediately and put his hand up to his mouth, holding in a chuckle and looking up through his bangs. The teacher gave each a quick look, a look that was impossible to interpret, and then pushed past them through the wooden door.

“Speaking of the devil…” Nicholas let his chuckle out at the same time as his words. Roxanne smiled, but that was all she could muster. How Nicholas could be so calm before the big masquerade was a mystery to her. He opened the door with a strong, steady hand, and she walked in. At least one of them was calm.

Sitting behind Roxanne, stretching his long legs in front of him and leafing through the pages of King Arthur’s journey, Nicholas felt strangely calm, even with only fifteen minutes left in the period. In fact, for the first time in a while, he was actually enjoying the lesson – provided he disregarded the teacher teaching it.

“So it seems like White wasn’t much of a lady fan, doesn’t it? It seems that every female in this novel aided in the downfall of some man.”

Mr. Williams was walking easily around the classroom in his characteristic amble, periodically leaning against the wall or stopping to swipe a piece of hair from his forehead. The Once and Future King was lying on his desk, unopened. The mood in the room was more discussion then actual preaching.

“Especially Gwenavier. She ruined Arthur and Lancelot’s life.” A girl in the front of the class raised her hand and gazed at Mr. Williams with batting eyelashes. It was Natalie Jacobs, the same girl who had given Roxanne the Spanish inquisition about Nicholas. It seemed as though she had moved on to bigger and better things. Older things.

“That’s an interesting opinion, Natalie.”

The teacher looked at her from across the room, opening his palm in front of him, giving her the floor. He knew she wanted him to walk closer, but he had no desire to get tangled in that girl’s web. Natalie Jacobs was pretty, never without some article of tight clothing, but she wasn’t good for much besides a quick look. The deepest thing about the girl was her makeup. Plus, she followed him. Compulsively. She never left him alone, tagging along after class, asking pointless questions about the day’s assignments, laughing at anything he said – even if it was barley in the ballpark of funny. A bubble head to say the least.

And anyhow, his concentration was lax. At least on the subject of dealing with idiotic girls who never took the hint regardless of what he tried. There was something much more important on the agenda…he just had to figure out how to get it to work.

“I just think that…um…” Natalie flipped her hair, trying to get her brain to cooperate with her mouth, “You know, she was married to Arthur, but had that affair with Lancelot. And she wouldn’t give either up. Since they both loved her, she made them, really, like…depressed.”

Something jangled inside Jake William’s head. That brainless Natalie had just stumbled on a way to get his plan running. Looking over at Nicholas, Jake Williams squinted his eyes slightly. The kid was leaning against his chair, yawning and stretching in his annoyingly careless way. You bored, Nicholas? Well, that’s good. Because I’ve got a little something guaranteed to spice up this party.

Ever since Nicholas had stepped onto his patch of land Mr. Williams had been trying to find a way to kick him out. Last night, he had found a way.

*You call a few numbers…read a little literature…do a bit of detective work…not real hard*. Particularly for a man with so much hate in his heart.

Roxanne wasn’t even the main focus anymore, even though she was still in his picture. Once Nicholas was sufficiently humiliated, the girl would be easier to handle and things would go back to normal. But all he wanted to do now was ruin Nicholas, ruin him so he never came back.

And *oh boy*, had he found a way to do it.

“I see where you’re going with this, Natalie.” Mr. Williams walked to center of the room, a private smile playing on his lips. “Gwenavier really seemed to be the main problem in this story, didn’t she?”

He caught eyes with Roxanne. The girl looked at him questioningly, but quickly lowered her gaze when he raised his eyebrows. *The main problem*. She understood. Good.

“Why couldn’t Gwen be satisfied with Arthur? He was king, wasn’t he? She had everything…he could give her anything she ever wished for.”

Roxanne slid lower in her seat, and Nicholas immediately picked up on the signal. Leaning in and letting his book slide from his fingers, the boy felt his moderate manner start to lose ground. The only time Roxanne possessed body language like that was when she was frightened.

Mr. Williams watched as Nicholas lifted his head. He caught eyes with him as well. “But instead of living a comfortable life with Arthur, she went behind his back with a man she barley knew. Why?” *Come on Nicholas, take the bait…*

He did.

“Sometimes love works in strange ways. People can’t always help their emotions. You can’t blame Gwenavier for the end of Camelot.” Nicholas looked into his teacher’s eyes fiercely. He knew where this conversation was heading.

“Are you saying Lancelot was the cause of it, then?” Mr. Williams hopped onto the wooden top of his desk and brought one knee up so he could lean an arm on it. The other leg swung almost teasingly. The smirk on his face didn’t diminish.

“No. I don’t think Lancelot *or* Gwenavier caused the destruction of Camelot. No one person can ruin an entire nation.” His words came out a little harsher then he had meant them to, and Nicholas took a breath. He wasn’t going to let this guy under skin. He wouldn’t play his little game, not when the teacher was making the rules up as he went.

“Surely Lancelot had *some* responsibility. After all, he stole Arthur’s wife.”

Mr. Williams’s expression was so smug it made Roxanne want to gag. She tried to keep her focus on his face like Nicholas did, but every time she met his gaze, she had to let hers drop. His eyes were so sharp they threatened to scratch her with a piercing hazel intensity. They were fierce enough to cut through steel, and they were trying to slash Nicholas’s resistance.

“Lancelot worked it out the best way he could. He suppressed his love because he knew it hurt Arthur. He was a friend”

“He was a *coward*.”

The leg stopped swinging. Mr. Williams’s polished shoes hit the ground with a metallic *clink* as he pushed himself off the desk. His just-caught-the-mouse expression slipped away as quickly as it had come. The only things left on his face were two piercing pupils and a thin line where his mouth should have been. “He went behind Arthur’s back. He stole Gwenavier, but was too much of a coward to admit it even to himself.”

It was quiet enough to hear the rustle of cloth and tinkle of necklaces as heads turned from Nicholas to Mr. Williams. The class didn’t know what to do, what to say, where to look. They were frozen in apprehensive confusion, knowing something was going on, but not exactly sure what that something was. The subject was definitely electric, and no one felt like stepping in and getting shocked. So twenty-five kids sat silently, watching two men in an intense book debate that wasn’t really about a book at all.

“A *coward*?”

Nicholas chuckled a little, giving Mr. Williams his best disbelieving smile. He shook his head slightly and snapped his gum. “Forgive me if this comes off a little strong, Mr. W, but Lancelot was hardly a coward.”

The smart laughter struck a hard cord on the violin of Jake Williams’s temper. *The kid is laughing at me…* He could feel his stomach harden, his joints stiffen, his lips squeeze together tighter. Blood was pounding inside his brain and the words ‘punch him!’ flashed like Vegas lights behind his eyelids.

“He was a coward, a sneak and liar. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want that guy anywhere *near* me.”

The words were bullets, each syllable crashed after the next, incredibly loud in the silent classroom. They were too fast and came out with much too much force, but Jake Williams couldn’t stop them. His trigger had been pulled and was stuck in place. “And you know what happened to Lancelot at the end, don’t you?”

Nicholas said nothing, his amusement long gone. His jaw worked back and forth and his gaze followed his teacher’s, but he didn’t say a word.

The two men were frozen for a moment, eyeing each other with all the intensity of a regular Spaghetti Western. Then, completely without warning, Mr. Williams swooped down and banged his open palms on Nicholas’s desk.

Roxanne jumped with the rest of the class. She bit her lip so hard the skin tore and blood trickled onto her taste buds. From behind her the noise had been so loud. So ugly and loud.

Nicholas didn’t move. He shut his eyes quickly and grasped the desk with strong hands, but he didn’t flinch. The force of the tall teacher’s body had shaken some of his hair into his eyes, but Nicholas made no motion to wipe it away. He let it fall into his face, throwing a shadow over the left side of his features.

“Arthur and him, they had a little war, didn’t they?”

His breath smelled of cigarettes masked with cough drops. It was warm on the boy’s face and Nicholas had to clench his teeth to keep from grimacing.

“Or did you not get that far, *California*?”

The nickname sounded dank and sour coming from Mr. William’s lips. Roxanne felt sick at the sound of it.

“I read it.”

Nicholas leveled his tone. His ocean eyes fixed up through the jungle of blond, a familiar hardness settling inside. If Roxanne had seen them at that moment, she would have recognized their passion. Recognized them from the night at the lake.

“I read it all, cover to cover.” Nicholas picked up The Once and Future King without even looking. “It’s all in there. Every, single, word.” The book hit the desk with the hollow sound of plastic against wood.

Shrieking, the bell careened through the silent room, causing kids to jump for a second time. It was only after the ear-piercing wail ended that the class dared look at each other, but no one seemed too keen on what to do. Confused shrugs and mouthed words were all people risked.

*What the hell do we do now?*

*Beats me.*

*Do we just sit here for like, ever?*

Finally, a few brave souls gathered up their things and scooted out the door, making as little noise as possible.

After the first couple, it was easier. One by one they filed out, trying hard not to look back. The class was becoming real experts on sneaking, thanks to Nicholas’s arrival. A few more tries and they’d have a whole fancy numbered system, complete with directions on how to walk without making a sound.

After the last sneaker shuffled out, three people were left, frozen in emotion. It should have only been two, but Roxanne was so terrified she didn’t her trust her legs to carry her anywhere.

For a few seconds, the silence in the room was loud enough to shatter glass.

“Hey Roxy, do you have the science homework? I put it in my jeans and it went through the wash and – oh. Um…whoa.”

Amy Palmer, the blond girl who had been the first to find David and one of Roxy’s good friends, let her voice die away. Observing the scene in English 204, it occurred to her that maybe a missing science assinment wasn’t that essential.

“Roxanne was just leaving.”

That was news to her.

“I can just come back-“

“She’s *leaving*. Right now.”

If words were daggers, Mr. Williams would have just unsheathed the sharpest of them all.

Roxanne slowly picked up her things, sliding her tongue over the torn skin inside her mouth. She felt so weak with fear that it was a wonder she could even follow directions. Her fingers were shaking, and the auburn hair on top her head was sticking to her neck in the beginning of a cold sweat.

Before her forced departure started, she turned to Nicholas, who was still sitting tensely. His eyes appeared focused on the teacher, but a quick movement under his bangs signaled that he knew she was watching him.

“Roxy, I’ve got this.”

“Nicholas, please don’t make me leave-“

“I won’t.”

“*I* will.” Mr. Williams straightened up and took a strong step towards Roxanne.

“Don’t *touch* me.” Her voice had a kick behind it even she had never heard before. “He’s my ride. I can’t go without him.”

From the shadow of his bangs, a small smile spread across Nicholas’s mouth. *Be brave, Roxy.*

“Then…wait outside.” Jake Williams couldn’t help but lower his voice a little. He had never seen her talk like that, and it frightened him. She was getting stronger, thanks to that blond Casanova. He had to cut Nicholas down quickly or he’d lose the stronghold on Roxanne forever.

“I’ll be right there, Roxy. Promise.” Nicholas watched her walk gradually to the door and smiled when she turned back. *Be brave*.

Even when they were tarnished with apprehension, she could read those eyes.

Smiling back briefly, Roxanne sent a message of her own. *I will. I will because you will*.

The door clicked shut behind her. Amy shifted nervously from one foot to the other, eyeing her quiet friend. “What the hell was going on inside there?”

“Nothing really. Nothing he can’t handle.”

Roxanne was speaking more to herself then to Amy.

“Are you coming then?” The tall girl motioned to the hallway, still not fully convinced the scene in the English room was totally in control.

“No. I’m waiting here.”

“Okay, suit yourself. I’ll be at track if…you need me, or something.” Amy started down the hall, hitching her bag farther up her shoulder. *That Nicholas kid better not wind up unconscious and bloody on the floor*, she thought. *If he does, and I find him, I’m moving away. This school is too damn full of half-dead kids, and lucky me, I get to find them all.*

“Nicholas, why don’t you stand up? Let’s talk Mano y Mano.”

The boy watched his teacher from under his hair. The man backed off a little, holding his hands palm up. A gesture that could be interpreted as a peace offering, or an invitation for a fight.

Easing his back off the metal chair, Nicholas stood. Finally able to move his stiff joints, he brushed his blond locks from his eyes and leaned back a little, stretching. It was not by accident Nicholas noticed he was a good inch taller then Mr. Williams.

“Now that all distractions are gone,” Jake slid his eyes quickly toward the classroom door, “let’s drop this medifore, okay?”

“Medifore?” Nicholas raised his eyebrows. “Is *that* what we were talking about?” He slapped his forehead sarcastically. “And here I was thinking we were actually doing *work* for once.”

Mr. Williams blinked back the desire to punch his student in the face. “Fair enough.” He mumbled, “I admit, I’ve been a bit distracted these past couple of days.”

“A *bit*?” Nicholas shook his head in disbelief. He turned his back to the teacher and ran his fingers over his face and hair, breathing as evenly as the mounting anger would let him. “What is your problem with me anyway? What did I do to you?”

The boy twisted back to look at Mr. Williams, an almost hurt expression settling into his eyes and mouth. Because, off the record, he had thought Mr. Williams a good guy the first day. Off the record, it stung to see the hateful gaze every 8th period. Nicholas had done his best to shake it off, but hell, he wasn’t made of stone. Not even close, and deep down inside, he *felt* it.

“How do I explain this…?” Jake Williams chose to ignore the pained expression. The kid was getting no sympathy from him. “You came in here with a bad attitude, and it hasn’t gotten much better over time.”

“But I didn’t! I didn’t come in looking for a fight. Mr. Williams –“ the boy took a step closer in an attempt to get his point across, “all I did was get to know Roxanne, and she told me…I stumbled across something that didn’t feel right.”

“Who are you to judge what feels right after only a week in this town?”

The resentment in his voice was obvious. Nicholas heard the iron tint to his syllables and hardness in his vowels. He could see hands jammed deep into starched pockets and the telltale jaw lock. Choosing his next set of words was going to be difficult.

“Maybe…maybe I came on a little strong-“

“No shit, Shirlock.”

The icy curse caught Nicholas off guard, but he swallowed it down and kept going. “It’s just…the things I saw, the way you scared Roxanne…I wouldn’t let *anyone* do that. I’m not out to get *you*, it’s just the way you come across-“

“So, what are you saying, Mother Teresa?” Mr. Williams let his teacher edict slip and made no move to pick it back up. “That I’m harassing her, that I’m giving her nightmares? That I’m planning to *rape* her?”

Nicholas didn’t say anything, just ran his tongue over his lips and pressed them together.

“You think that? You actually have the nerve?”

Jake Williams put one hand on his desk, as if to steady himself. His eyes were tiny slits of green now and Nicholas was close enough to get a whiff of Vicks cherry cough drops, stale in the teacher’s angry mouth.

“You were making her uncomfortable, and you knew it. She was so scared of you; she came to me crying. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

“That it was none of your Goddamn business.”

“It *is* my business! The minute I became friends with her it was my business, and until you stop, it’ll keep on *being* my business!”

“Friends?” The man let out a short laugh. “*Friends*? Is that what you really wanted, Nicholas? Is that any guy really wants?”

The room became suddenly very airless. Mr. Williams was so near that the boy could see a spot his razor had missed and the nauseating cologne was strong enough that Nicholas had to breathe from his mouth.

Friends?

Roxanne peered through the crack in the door, griping its handle tightly. She could see everything, including the sparks in the electrified air. She watched as Nicholas opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again. She watched as he rubbed his eyes and turned away from Mr. Williams, walking towards the window. She watched him lean against it and heard him continue to say a whole lot of nothing.

*Nicholas, say something. Say something before I break down. Say it before I do…*

It was only after Roxanne felt her own jaw move that she realized she was about to talk. To actually speak her thoughts.

Shutting the door quickly and quietly, the girl held the knob so it wouldn’t make a sound. She pressed her forehead against the cool wood in attempt to stop her brain from whirling. *Breathe, Roxy…*

A few exhales later, she was able to pick her head up and push the door open again. Once she did, she realized it was too late.

Nicholas had spoken. He had answered Mr. Williams’s question and was facing him again, blue eyes blazing. She knew he had spoken, but what he had actually said was a mystery. The expression on the two men’s faces gave nothing away.

Roxanne had missed the only answer she had ever wanted from Nicholas. Since day one, since the night at the lake, since the beginning.

“Oh really? Forgive me if I have a hard time believing that.”

“You’re forgiven.”

“Alright, Hotshot, you’ve explained yourself – however pitiful that explanation was. Now,” Mr. Williams turned and sifted though some papers on his desk, “let *me* explain.”

Picking up a white sheet, the teacher shoved it into Nicholas’s face.

“See this? This is a test paper. And see this?” He jammed his finger at a circled red letter. “This is an F. I’ve been teaching for two years now, Nicholas, and I’ve been teaching an accelerated English class. These are supposedly smart kids, right?”

It wasn’t really a question, so Nicholas didn’t answer.

“Now, for two years, I’ve been working my ass off to make these kids understand. I’ve taught everything from Shakespeare to Salenger, in every way I know how. Answering countless questions, correcting millions of reports and analyzing stories to the point that I don’t even read for entertainment anymore. So, what do I get for two years of hell?” The man angrily shook the failed test, his hands gripping it like a killer might a neck. “Answers like this!”

His eyes raced over the penciled-in sentences. “Question, ‘who wrote the Odyssey?’ Answer, ‘the dude from The Simpsons.’” Mr. Williams looked up, venomously. “He means Homer. At least this kid was halfway there.”

Quickly, he grabbed another test. “Question, ‘who were the main characters in Romeo and Juliet?’ Answer, ‘Leonardo DiCaprio and that girl from that show.’”

Mr. Williams looked at Nicholas, breathing hard. “Their names were in the damn title! They were mentioned at least seventy times in the text…God…that was the easiest question I’ve ever written, and they couldn’t even do it. Who the hell is Leonardo DiCaprio?”

Before Nicholas could open his mouth, the man took the test and ripped it down the middle.

“Never mind, I don’t give a shit. He’s obviously more important to these kids then education.”

By now Jake Williams was sweating. Tiny droplets of water were forming on his forehead and sliding behind his ears, running down his neck and onto the back of his white starched shirt.

“But Roxanne, she *understood*. I always corrected her tests last and read her reports at night so I could sleep. She was in a class with juniors and seniors and scoring higher then all of them combined. She has a way with language –“

“It’s her writing, isn’t it?”

Nicholas stopped Mr. Williams’s barreling train of a monologue dead. The man snapped his mouth shut and stood blinking.

“You fell for her words, not her.”

The boy was radiant when he whacked through the brambles of realization. His eyes were sparkling with knowledge, his lips itching to speak, his skin glowing with enlightenment.

Roxanne saw it from her cracked door and swam deeper into the pool of Love. Jake Williams saw it from two feet away and felt himself drowning in a puddle of Hate.

“She wrote like an adult. Her words saved you, so you programmed yourself to believe she was an adult. You decided to forget her age.” The boy half smiled, “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Shut up. You don’t know-“

“It makes perfect sense! That’s why you didn’t see anything wrong with treating her the way you did. She was too afraid to correct you, so you kept-“

“*Shut up*!”

Two birds resting on the outside of the windowsill flapped their wings hurriedly. They took off, heading towards someplace quieter.

“How old are you, kid? Seventeen, eighteen? How does one so young become so wise?”

Mr. Williams felt the sweat settle in a pocket just below his shoulders, boiling with his temper. “I’ll tell you how. They *don’t*.”

Man and boy had slowly closed the gap during this deliberate boiling point. Their faces were now near enough to see the pores in the other’s skin, their fists clenched hard enough at their sides to cause marks, and their emotions raw enough to block everything else out.

“I didn’t do anything she didn’t want.”

“That’s a lie.”

“What?”

“I said it’s a *lie*!”

“Nicholas, don’t cross my line…” Jake Williams could hear his heart banging inside his chest and knew, if he listened even harder, he could also hear the boy’s.

“Already done. Like you said, I crossed it the minute I walked in here.”

Roxanne felt suddenly ill. The minute those words crossed Nicholas’s lips, something inside her started to wail. He had made some kind of mistake, had stepped right into some kind of trap. She was sure of it. The way Mr. Williams had taken that slow breath after Nicholas spoke, the way his mouth had twitched, the way his eyes had lit up…

Something was about to go terribly wrong for her White Knight.

Part 8