Chapter 9 - Caden Oliver

For the first time in a long time, I could actually say that I was looking forward to the start of school. It would give me something to take my mind off of what had easily been one of the worst summers of my life. I mean, I wasn't looking forward to having first period Geometry with Mr. Howard the Hammer (Yes, that's what we've nicknamed him—he crushes the spirits of students hoping for an A in his class), but I would definitely have more time to hang out with Iggy now (and hopefully not in detentions).

And for the record, I still don't think that the first day of school is a big deal. I haven't changed that much in the span of a year.

On the bus, Fang and I reviewed our schedules one last time. I stared at mine with disgust: Geometry with Howard, Phys Ed with Roland, American History with Harvey, English with Snow, Lunch, Chemistry with Holden, Study Hall with MacDonald, French II with Ritter, and Digital Photography with Miller. This year was going to be brutal...even if I don't have crazy scientists or Erasers bothering me.

I looked at Fang hopefully. "You can't change into any of my classes?" I would feel better if we could combine our knowledge (*cough* he could help me *cough*). We didn't have any classes together last year (except for the same gym period, but that didn't really count), but I was still trying to convince him to switch even though we'd known our schedules for several weeks.

He shook his head. "Can't. I took Geometry last year."

"Yeah, and you had Yocum," I noted miserably.

He shrugged.

"What if you took Photography?"

"No, I have Chem that period. And if I took Photography, I would be taken out of Drawing II."

Curse him and his art ability (I mean, have you seen the kid draw before?).

"What about History...?" I began.

"I can't change my schedule," he said, sighing. "Besides, I have Harvey second period. Our homework should be exactly the same."

I wanted to groan. At least there was always hope with Iggy.

A mess of blond curls popped up from the seat in front of us. Wide, clear blue eyes observed us.

I smiled. "Hey, Angel," I said, glad for the sudden distraction.

She grinned back sweetly. "Hi, Max. There's someone I want you to meet." She reached down and suddenly a cute teddy bear was facing me and Fang, with a halo on its head and angel wings sticking out of its back. "This is Celeste."

I grinned at the bear and grabbed its paw, shaking it lightly. "Nice to meet you, Celeste."

Angel beamed at me.

The first stop was Eisenhower Elementary, where Angel and her older brother, Gabe, went to school. We lurched to a sudden stop, making everyone on the bus clutch their seats to keep them from flying into the aisles. When the elementary students were heading toward the front of the bus, Angel loped out into the walkway gracefully and, before heading to the door, took two steps back toward where I sat with Fang. She curled two fingers forward, beckoning me to bend closer.

"Watch out for him," she whispered in my ear. I wondered who she was talking about, but I saw her eyes were directly on Fang.

My face turned bright pink in humiliation. Why did everyone assume that we were together? Even the seven-year-old was suspicious of us!

She winked with a huge grin and waltzed toward the door with perfect grace.

Oh, my God. This was freshman year all over again.

Chester Nimitz High School had been bittersweet to me over the last year. I mean, sure, its walls were covered in mold and they hadn't repainted the place in over 20 years, but it was where I met Fang and Iggy. And I didn't wind up in detention as much as I had in Middle School. But then again, I suppose I had an extra year to make up for it.

I was extremely grateful that the only thing we did in Geometry today was introduce ourselves to Mr. Howard and he handed out a lovely little syllabus (that was 20 pages long) that outlined every week's lesson plan in case we were not at class for whatever reason, because he expected us to keep up with the work no matter what our excuse was. Iggy was right—this guy was going to eat students. If only I had a way to switch into Yocum's class...

I would have to visit my guidance counselor later.

I went to phys ed, hoping that Mrs. Roland would run us crazy so that we could take our minds off the rest of the day. I was the only girl who didn't care about playing sports in gym; who cared if you got sweaty and your hair got messed up? It was a great outlet.

After changing into my uniform and coming out to the soccer field, I was surprised to see that today's class met at the infamous bleachers by the soccer field (refer to book 1 chapter 5 to see what I'm talking about). Mrs. Roland, with her short pixie cut ruffed up by the visor she was wearing, looked at the group of girls who had bothered to show up for gym with a tired expression.

"For once, I'm giving everyone a day off," she announced first, causing an excited chatter to roll through the crowd. I stared at her in disbelief. "You ladies can head back to the locker room if you want. Anyone who wants to stay can join the guy's gym class and I'll give them extra credit."

I looked out at the boys class, who was gathered under the shade of a tree. I couldn't tell what they were going to do today, but I hoped it was something that involved physical contact.

Most of the girls didn't bother to listen to the rest of her speech. They packed up their purses and headed back inside the building to get changed, grateful that they didn't have to smell bad. I waited for the crowd to disperse before I walked up to Mrs. Roland.

"I want to stay," I said.

She eyed me speculatively before deciding that I was the type who seemed to like physical activity. "Weren't you the one who was hit in the head with a soccer ball the first day last year?"

I winced, but decided that it was better that she remembered me. "Yeah, that's me. Max Ride."

"Um-hmm," she mused, writing something down on the class roster. "Very well, I'll talk to Mr. Harris and he'll decide what to do with you."

Once he was done talking to the boys, Mrs. Roland approached Mr. Harris and and discussed what to do with me away from his class. I was feeling a little fidgety, wanting to run into someone or tackle them. After a minute, Mrs. Roland waved me over and I approached the imposing duo.

"Max," Mr. Harris said testily, eyeing me in a similar fashion as Mrs. Roland had done. "We're just playing soccer today, so I think the guys won't rough you up too badly."

I rolled my eyes. "I can handle myself," I said confidently, flashy them a grin.

He shot me a look that said, "it's your death wish," but he didn't argue any further.

I was placed on the team that was wearing navy, up against the yellow-shirts (those were our school colors, considering we were the Admirals). I approached my team, who sized me up with whistles of excitement.

"Look at her!" one jock said.

"Maybe we should make this a shirts-and-skins game," another guy joined in, "and we'll be the skins!"

The group snickered, and I glared at them. I pretended not to notice as I walked by, but as I passed the two offenders, I jabbed them in the stomach. Both boys clutched at their midsections helplessly.

They made me a forward because they figured that guys would be afraid to hit a girl, so I could maneuver through the defense easily. I liked to play the position in gym because it involved a lot of running. And scoring goals wasn't a bad part of it, either.

We started playing, and after a while of back and forth goals (with me never touching the ball because my teammates never passed it to me despite their logic), I finally got my opportunity. The ball was in our defensive end, and one guy kicked the ball over a mass of heads. I was wandering around midfield, waiting for us to retain possession, and as soon as the ball was cracked, I began running. From all the years on the farm chasing down horses and sheep and various other animals, I had a lot of endurance (although genetically altered genes didn't hurt) and my small frame made me quick. I had a clear path to the ball.

As I felt my legs carry me at lightning speed, I heard someone approach me from behind. I couldn't afford to look, but I couldn't imagine someone as fast as me. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a pretty competitive kid, and losing to a guy did not sit well with me. I gritted my teeth and pushed myself.

I had a clear shot at the goal once I caught up to the ball. All I had to do was poke it past the goalie...

Right when I was about to strike, I got hip checked off the ball and went flying to the grass. The wind was knocked out of me, and I could see a scratch on my forearm from where it hit the ground. Not gonna lie, it burned like hell, but I wasn't going to tip off the guys that I was in discomfort.

The whistle blew and Mr. Harris came running on the field toward me. Before he could help me up, a hand shot out from my left side, and I looked up at a face I didn't recognize.

"Need a hand?" he asked.

At first I didn't want to accept his help, but then I figured he owed me for taking me out from behind. It had to have been him. He had a stalky build, and, although his cheeks were flushed, he didn't seem to be breathing hard at all.

I took it reluctantly.

Mr. Harris escorted me to the sidelines and dressed the burn on my arm, which had started to bleed. As he wiped it with antiseptic, he let out a low whistle.

"That running back there you displayed was impressive," he said, seeming surprised to be admitting it. "Have you ever thought of joining the track team?"

I was caught off guard by his question.

"Umm," I stammered, not really sure if he was offering me to join the squad or not. "I never could play sports after school because I live on a farm and have to help out."

"That's too bad," he said, actually sounding sympathetic. "You had great speed, and we could use a sprinter. I mean, you almost beat Caden, and he transferred here from Grant High so he could be on our team."

I stared at the boy as they were playing. Caden, huh? Well, I'm sure he was an uber jerk just because he was a hot-shot track star.

"Yeah," I said dumbly as he wound a bandage around my arm.

"Well, if you want to think about it at all, the season doesn't start until the spring. And preseason begins in November. It gives you a couple months to decide."

Track, huh? Talk about the ultimate distraction. Playing a sport would really keep my mind off Erasers, although it would also keeps me in shape in case we were attacked again. It seemed like a win-win to me.

"I'll talk to my mom about it," I told Mr. Harris, "but no promises."

He smiled. "We'd love to have you, so try to butter up your mother."

After lunch, I had my first class of chemistry. I was sitting at a lab table, waiting for the teacher to come in, when Iggy suddenly burst through the door with a goofy grin on his face.

My day perked up. "Hey, I thought we didn't have any classes together," I said as he took a seat next to me.

He shrugged. "I had to switch my schedule a bit. Did you know chemistry is my favorite subject?" The look on his face was wicked and excited. If he started rubbing his hands together and laughing like a maniac, I wouldn't have been surprised.

I could only wonder why he loved chemistry. "As long as you're my lab partner for the year, then we're golden."

He beamed.

Just as Mr. Holden stepped in the classroom, another body shifted in behind him before he could close the door. I immediately recognized the student as Caden, the one who had hit me at gym. He had a clean, strong face with shaggy, light brown hair and hazel eyes. Despite his stalky build, he seemed like he was a couple inches shorter than me. He took a seat in the front row as the teacher began.

Once Mr. Holden was done introducing us to the course, he stood behind the computer on his desk and pulled up some file that we couldn't see.

"Each of you will have a specific lab partner for the year, and you will be required to sit by that person for every class and work with them every lab unless they're absent."

I looked at Iggy excitedly, knowing I would gladly pick him as my partner in crime.

"Before you get too carried away, there is a strong chance that your partner will not be your friend. I already preselected partners, based on random chance. If by the end of the semester everyone is behaving themselves appropriately—" Iggy whistled and looked around innocently, causing me to quietly shake with laughter, "—I may allow you to pick your partners for the second semester.

"Now, for the list," he began, looking at his computer screen. "Caitlyn Jones will be with...Jeremy Washington."

The proposed pair looked a little worried to be with each other. Jeremy stood up and forced Caitlyn's neighbor to move so they could sit together.

"Lacey Williams will be with...Brayden Overman."

Lacey smiled at Brayden coyly as she sauntered over to his lab table.

"Rachel Carpenter will be with...James Griffith."

Shit, I said mentally. I really wanted to be his partner.

Iggy cast me a sympathetic look before moving over to Rachel.

"Amanda Haverly will be with...Cody Fitzpatrick."

I had to sit through a few more listings before he finally got to my name. With sickening awareness, I realized that Caden hadn't been given a partner yet, either.

"Maxine Ride—"

"Max," I corrected him.

He smiled. "Okay then, Max, you're partner will be Caden Oliver."

My heart sank. Really? I had to pass up Iggy for Caden. That would happen to me.

Caden came to my lab table, and I tried to make it clear on my face that I was not happy with the choice. He didn't really seem to notice his dissatisfaction.

"Sorry about gym," he said in a flat voice. He didn't quite sound apologetic, but he didn't sound condescending, either.

"It's fine," I replied. "I'm a tough girl."

I thought I'd get a smile out of him, but his expression was blank. Dang...I thought Fang was a rock. Caden was giving him a run for his money.

"I'm Max," I said.

"Caden."

He hardly seemed to notice me the rest of class, which was fine by me. As long as he wasn't some 100-year-old vampire that was in love with the smell of my blood, I could handle it.

The bell finally rang, and I was anxious to get to study hall so I could relax.

"Before you leave, you should get the contact information of your partner so that you can reach each other in case you ever need to meet," Mr. Holden said.

Caden turned toward me. "I'll need your address, just in case we ever have to finish an assignment outside of class."

I was taken aback. "Can we swap? My place isn't always best for getting work done. A lot of action happens."

"You can't come to my place," he said, not even appearing to think it over.

Well okay then, I thought. Maybe I should say the same thing. "At least give me your phone number."

He did provide me with that piece of information, and I was surprised to see that it was from out of the area. But then it struck me...he transferred here. He probably didn't even live in the area and didn't want to make it an inconvenience for me. That still didn't give him a right to be rude...

This was going to be a long semester.

I need to give cookies to Heart of Diamond for being the most creative. I liked the Pollyjuice idea a lot. Although no one guessed correctly, I kind of wanted it that way, too. But I promise you that it is someone who has been in the books. This chapter came quickly because I was in a writing mood today, so I cranked out this long chapter. :P

Like I mentioned in the last chapter, I had the idea of starting this crazy list called "100 Things That Won't Happen in MR 8". It's very random, supposedly funny, and I need viewer input for future additions to the list (because I really only have so much funny within me). Because of some confusion, I thought I'd post some examples of the complete randomness of it:

~Fang cries...and wears white

~Ella performs a strip tease at a show in Vegas.

~Nudge becomes a national recording artists and produces 500 albums that go gold over the span of three months.

Just so you guys have some idea of what it's like. It's not a story, just a funny list. Like the idea? Love the idea? Tell me in a review or on the poll on my profile!

And (because I am a shameless advertiser), I want to ask anyone who hasn't read "Ghost of Me" to please do. There is only one more chapter left, and it's a fairly short story compared to these stories. Try it if you have the time!

-biteoutoflife-