Arianna's Awakening (Arianna Rose Part 1 & The Awakening Part 2) (3 page)

Chapter 3

The alarm clock radio beeped incessantly until Arianna reached a hand out and silenced it with a smack.  She stayed in bed for several seconds and allowed her eyes to scan her room.  Morning sunlight did little to brighten it by any definition of the word.  The effect was quite the opposite, in fact.  Water stains on the ceiling were more visible, along with the overall yellowness of the walls.  But the condition of her room was the least of her concerns.  She needed to get up and start a new school.  And she needed to slip into the bathroom without encountering her mother’s overnight guest.  She doubted either of them would be awake.  They had stayed up until the early morning hours and, judging from the noise level of their partying, had imbibed plenty of liquor.  To be safe, she hurried and picked an outfit from her dresser: a white tank top with a cropped black T-shirt that hung off her shoulder to layer atop the tank top and a pair of black, stretch skinny jeans.  She accessorized with several hoop earrings that went up her earlobe, a thick-banded wristwatch and her favorite black motorcycle boots.  Her boots were the most expensive article of clothing she owned.  They were genuine leather, steel toed, and her proudest purchase, second only to her motorcycle that waited on the trailer’s porch. 

Her motorcycle, a used 2009 Kawasaki KLR 650, had been purchased seven months earlier with money she’d saved working after school and summer jobs.  The three-year-old bike was the closest she’d ever come to owning a new one.  She loved to ride, had caught the fever for it when she was twelve
.  A boyfriend of hers had a dirt bike, a KX 80, and had taught her to ride.  As soon as she had become comfortable with the mechanics of operating it, she had fallen in love.  Everything about riding had enticed her, the feeling of freedom, of speeding on two wheels with nothing between her and the world around her, going where cars couldn’t go.  Her relationship with her motorcycle-riding twelve-year-old boyfriend had ended after a short time, but her love affair with riding had just begun.  When she had turned sixteen and had gotten her driver’s license two years earlier, she had bought her first bike, a used CR 250.  Not surprisingly, her mother had not protested her purchase, as any decent parent would have.  To the contrary, she had celebrated alongside Arianna when she’d finally saved enough money to buy it. 

Arianna shook her head remembering her mother’s unorthodox reaction to her choice of transportation and took a final glance in the mirror.  She supposed most girls in her position would have started a new school with a new outfit, but new clothes were a luxury she simply could not afford.  The clothes she wore were neither new nor expensive.  But they were clean and she had paid for them herself.  Such details may have been lost on another, but were held as small victories in her mind.  They gave her a degree of confidence and pride she would not have had otherwise. 

Dressed and armed with her smidgen of self-confidence, she stole out of her room and crept to the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair.  Once she’d finished in the bathroom, she peeked out beyond the door into the living-room area and saw a man sprawled out on the couch.  She shook her head and was about to slip down the hallway and out of the house when she heard a voice whispering in her ear. 

“Funny, I didn’t remember him havin’ boobs last night,” her mother whispered and Arianna jumped.

“Shit mom!  Are you trying to kill me?  You’re like a ninja or something sneaking up like that.  Shit!” Arianna’s heart pounded.  She’d assumed her mother would be in the living room or her bedroom, not right beside her.  It took a moment to compose herself before she laughed at her mother’s comment.

“So, he didn’t have boobs
last night, huh?  Looks like he’s got a pretty generous set now,” she said and giggled.

“I know.  His are bigger than mine,” her mother said and cupped her own breasts.

“Mine too.  How much did you drink last night?”

“Enough to free willy in there,” her mother said and laughed.  “The guy’s a whale, get it?”

“Yeah Mom, I get it,” Arianna said and took a few steps closer to get a better look.  The man slept in a white undershirt with matching yellow crescents under each armpit.  His belly was large and round and he did have what appeared to be breasts.  The few hairs he’d had been combed and stretched across his scalp in a feeble attempt at concealing his bald head.

“Oh Mom, I think this one’s a keeper,” she said sarcastically.  “You should marry him.  I see my future father in there.”

“Oh shut up, you little wiseass.  This is not my proudest moment.”

“No, no it’s not.”

“What should I do?  He can’t stay here.”

“For starters, take a shower.  Don’t forget to bring your cell phone in, and lock the bathroom door.  And when he wakes up, tell him you have an early appointment and you’ll call him later.”

Her mom paused and seemed to mull over the advice she’d given her.  The time she’d spent coaching her mother had cost her time she would have spent eating breakfast.  Her stomach rumbled and reminded her she had skipped dinner the night before.  If she hurried, she would have time to stop at a gas station and grab a roll.

“That could work, baby!  What would I do without you?” her mother asked and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.  “Where are you off to so early?”

Her mother had clearly forgotten it was her first day at a new school.  A night of heavy drinking often caused her memory to lapse.  That and what little common sense and good judgment she had generally expired.

“School, Mom, I start school today,” she replied.  “And I’m going to be late if I don’t leave now.”

“Oh, good luck, baby!  I’m sorry I forgot.  This has all been so hard on me.  I can’t seem to keep a thought straight in my head.”

“It’s okay.  I’ll see you later,” she said.

She turned and walked down the hallway, past the sleeping man.  She grabbed her backpack that rested against the inside wall by the front door and headed out.  Her motorcycle leaned against the trailer with her helmet affixed to the back.  She slipped her arms into the straps of the backpack and put her helmet on.  Then she straddled the bike and started it.  The Kawasaki engine purred and she felt her pulse rate quicken.  She enjoyed few things in life, and riding was one of them.  She revved the engine twice, released the clutched and shifted into first gear with her foot.  With a slight twist of her wrist, she felt wind in her face.  She rode, enjoying the openness of the county roads, for more than ten minutes before she reached the gas station that skirted the campus of her new school.  She ran in and grabbed a roll and paid.  She ate most of her breakfast quickly then continued to school.

She supposed she should have felt butterflies in her stomach, or nerves of some sort.  But she didn’t.  New schools were old news.  She
did
feel like having a cigarette.  Twelve hours had passed since her last one and her body was craving nicotine.  Most schools were smoke-free campuses, but as she rode down the driveway, she did not see any signs indicating her new school was as well.  She parked her motorcycle in a side lot and noticed that there were many ordinary cars.  Interspersed among the ordinary cars, though, were many luxury ones as well.  Mercedes, BMWs, Land Rovers and Porsches, all shiny and new looking, popped up frequently and made the normal cars look like jalopies by comparison.  Arianna hadn’t seen a nice neighborhood when she and her mother had entered town.  Hers certainly wasn’t. 

She wondered where the fancy mansions that belonged with the equally fancy cars might be as she lit her cigarette.  Just as she filled her lungs with smoke, the first bell rang.  She was the only person in the lot and leaned against her bike, but she noticed that groups had gathered near the main entrance and slowly started to disband.  She figured she ought to start walking and make her way inside.  Surely, a meeting with a guidance counselor would be on her agenda, as well as a tour, compliments of a student council delegate. 

With thoughts of guidance counselors and tours filling her thoughts, she began climbing the wide concrete steps.  As she did so, she noticed a group of boys watching her.  Dressed in collared shirts and chinos, they looked preppy, and rich.  She stared back with her cigarette dangling from her lips.  All of them looked away, except one.  With exceedingly bronze skin, light-brown hair and bright blue eyes, he looked like a designer clothing catalogue model or a playboy who would be more comfortable helming his yacht than attending high school.  He stared at her in a way that irked her so completely, she contemplated walking up to him and punching him right in his smug face.  But she did not want to get kicked out of school on her first day.  Not again.  So she decided to let it go, to ignore his scrutiny.  She took a final drag of her cigarette and heard a voice.

“Man, I’d like to go slumming and tap that ass someday,”
preppy yacht boy said as she was about to pass him.

Still, she refrained from punching him, but chose instead to casually flick her cigarette at his face as she walked by. 

“Holy shit!” he shrieked and ashes, some lit, cascaded down his expensive-looking shirt.  He frantically tried to brush them off and left charcoal smears in their wake.  “What the fuck?” he whined and sounded like a girl. 

“Dude, you totally sounded like chick just now,” she heard one of his friends say and they all laughed at him.

She tossed her head back, laughed loudly and kept walking. 

Inside, the hallway was lined with students, most bustling at their lockers gathering books, while others lingered and chatted.  A few girls looked in her direction, but looked away quickly.  Arianna was not shy about making direct eye contact with people who eyed her.  She’d been told many times that her stare was lethal.  While she doubted anyone had been killed by it, she felt confident that at least a few had been withered by it. 

Her eyes roamed about from the faces of students to room numbers.  She was looking for the main office when a pert blonde placed her face in Arianna’s.

“Hi there!  Are you Arianna?  You must be because I’ve haven’t seen you around here before, and I know
everyone
,” she said in one breath and eyed Arianna’s clothes disapprovingly.  Arianna caught the not-so-subtle look and bristled immediately.  She also couldn’t help but notice how the girl’s smile curled up at the corners of her mouth, and did not reach her eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m Arianna.”

“I knew it!  I’m Cheryl Charles and I am your official tour guide,” she began and flashed her insincere smile.  Arianna repressed the urge to gag.  “I am the Vice President of the Student Council here at Herald Falls High.”

“What, I’m not important enough to get the President,” Arianna joked and watched the phony smile sag.  Clearly, her joke had been lost on Cheryl.

“Well, I suppose I could speak to Principal Wood and get the President here if I’m not good enough for you,” Cheryl said snippily. 

“It was a joke, Cheryl.  I was just kidding, relax,” she said levelly.

“Oh,” Cheryl said and smoothed her lavender blouse.  “I see, well, ha, ha then.  Very funny,” she added narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips.

“Hey no need to get all worked up.  I was just trying to break the ice.”

“I am most certainly
not
worked up,” Cheryl screeched indignantly. 

“Of course not,” Arianna muttered as a man approached.  He wore a tweed blazer with elbow patches and had gray hair parted neatly and plastered to one side.  

“Good morning Cheryl,” he said in a gravelly voice then turned to Arianna.  “I’ve never seen you before.  Who might you be?”

“Mr. Wood, this is our new student, Arianna Rose,” Cheryl said in a suddenly syrupy voice.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Woods,” Arianna said and offered her hand to him.

“It’s Wood, not Woods dear.  Wood, W-O-O-D, no ‘s’;
Wood
,” he corrected her.  Cheryl smirked triumphantly and Arianna used just her middle finger to scratch an imaginary itch on the bridge of her nose.  Cheryl got the message and gasped.

“Are you okay Cheryl,” Mr. Wood asked.

“Yes sir, I’m fine,” she sang.

“Very well, then.  Miss Rose, I will see you in my office after the tour and introduce you to our counselor Mrs. Gallagher.  She can help you with your course schedule et cetera.  Good day Miss Charles,” Mr. Wood said and turned on his heels to leave.

“Let’s get this over with,” Cheryl said in a tone far different from the saccharine one she’d used with the principal.  “I have more important things to do than be seen with you.”

“Oh and I want to be seen with a preppy little bitch like you?” Arianna said testily.  “Go.  I think I’ll manage without you.”

Exasperated, Cheryl handed her a map and several other sheets of brightly colored paper.  “Here.  Suit yourself.  Good luck.  I’m out of here!”

“Sounds good to me,” she replied and watched as Cheryl started to walk away. 

Cheryl stopped abruptly and turned, wearing a snarky smile on her face, “If you go straight down this hall and take the first left, you’ll see a door.  On the other side of it, you’ll find people who are more
your
kind,” she said and eyed Arianna from head to toe.  “You know, the
trashy
kind that really don’t belong here.”