I was the first one out of the class since my desk was right next to the door. Once in the hallway, I quickly slid to the side, out of everyone's way. Eric Johnson and Lisa Meyers shot me an evil glare as they led the charge out of the room. At this end of the hall, there weren't many students; but toward the center of the school, the hallway was crowded. I glanced down at the map Mrs. Hall had detailed and was relieved to see Latin was just a few doors up. I hadn't seen Cathy, but assumed I missed her in the mass exodus. I pushed off the wall and followed the tail end of the crowd until I was standing in front of my next class. A pale, sandy-haired girl slipped past me without looking up and went into the room. I followed.
It was a typical classroom, no different than the last, but there were very few students—eight to be exact. The pale girl I'd followed sat down next to two other girls in the front, closest to the teacher's desk. I decided to stay with my original plan and retreated to a seat in the back. Three windows along the left side of the room, blinds partially closed, provided the only illumination to the dingy room. A few more students slipped quietly into class, also sitting near the front, and then the lights suddenly flicked on.
"Good morning class," an animated voice proclaimed.
"Good morning Miss Berkshire," the class replied in unison.
Miss Berkshire looked to be in her mid-to-late fifties, nondescript graying hair pulled back in a loose bun and, most noticeably, vibrant red lipstick. She crossed the front of the room and went directly to the teacher's desk to set her things down. From behind a worn, leather portfolio with a single piece of paper protruding from the top, she scanned the room. Her sparkling blue eyes finally came to rest on me.
"You must be Izzy Faulkner," she said, cocking her head to the side. "Why don't you come join us?"
"I'd like to be in the back of the class if that's alright."
Miss Berkshire set her portfolio down and stepped out from behind the desk. "I'm afraid it's just a small class. Please." She patted the back of a chair in the second row. "Technically this is the back of the class."
I grabbed my stuff and walked slowly up the row toward the chair where she stood. She backed away as I approached, seeming to detect my apprehension. What surprised me the most was the lack of interest from the rest of the class. A couple of the girls glanced over their shoulders, but their expressions held only mild curiosity. As I sat down, the girl at the desk in front of me—the girl I'd followed into class—turned.
"I'm Mary."
"Izzy." I whispered.
"Cool." Mary turned back toward the front of the class.
"Well class," Miss Berkshire started, "I'm sure I speak for the entire class when I say we're so glad to have you join us, Izzy. I'm afraid over the years things have gotten a bit routine, perhaps some new blood will spice things up a bit this year."
If she only knew how blood would spice things up.
"Would you like to tell us a little about yourself?"
I squirmed in my seat.
"Well, I suppose I dropped that on you rather unexpectedly, perhaps later."
The rest of the class was, well routine. Miss Berkshire handed out books and a syllabus that included everything; homework, projects, even quiz and test dates. As class continued, I relaxed and started to think about the real reason I was here. But try as I might, I couldn't find anything that seemed even remotely familiar. I was getting frustrated when I recognized my name.
"Izzy, would you like to share a little about yourself before class ends?"
"Well, I'm afraid there isn't much to tell."
Mary turned to face me. "You're not from around here. There has to be something." Said in a different tone, her words could have sounded adversarial, but her voice held no malice, only curiosity.
"To tell you the truth, I have no memory beyond five years ago." That got everyone's attention, not exactly what I'd intended. They all turned to look at me.
"How interesting," Miss Berkshire noted.
"I remember school—well the things I learned, but really not much more than that. I have no idea where I lived before Boonsboro." There was an uncomfortable silence as no one—including me—knew what to say after I dropped that little gem. The bell saved the day.
"Remember to go over Chapter One for tomorrow." Miss Berkshire's cheery voice was a perfect way to end class. I was going to like Latin.