Likewise also the good works of some are manifest beforehand; and they that are otherwise cannot be hid.
--1 Timothy 5:25 (KJV)
She learned a lot about Sarai over the next couple of days— get this, she was only half-Nigerian—which finally the hazel eyes and curly black hair she couldn't seem to get into a ponytail. Mrs. Alero was always reminding her but really, she didn't mean anything bad by keeping it down—she honestly just felt comfortable enough with it that she forgot. And she didn't seem like the troublemaker most of the students made her out to be… well, mostly…and like Riley said, most of the teachers just ignored her. A few did seem glad to see her in class though—
It was a given, Sarai was star pupil material—the kind that made teaching a joy— first off, she was smart—and Jordan meant smart. She grasped concepts easily and could apply them, and asked questions where she didn't understand, then she didn't talk needlessly while things were being explained.
But fall into that trap and she could be a world class pain too, depending on which mood she was in— she could put her head on the desk and close her eyes or cover her face with a book, and for the life of her wouldn't rouse for anything, not even when she was called to answer a question. Or she would put in all her effort, but in something of the wrong direction—this she showed just a few hours into it, when she'd painstakingly leafed through a French dictionary for the entire forty minutes of the class just to piece together how to ask the teacher if he was wearing a wig. The entire class fell into pin drop silence, but no one else understood enough French to know why. She almost laughed her head off alone during the second break afterwards.
And that was just the first day— she'd been in class for three of them straight.
Now Jordan didn't know exactly if she did it for her… but it was a little nice to consider. If it was—well, no one had ever done something like that for her.
She felt a little bad for the teachers though.
The only class it seemed she didn't act up in was Mrs. Alero's English Composition. They had her every day and even before this little change, Sarai had been in all her classes—mainly because the woman would personally find and bring, or more like drag, her to it beforehand.
Honestly, it was a little tough for everyone— Jordan had heard that in the first class of the school year, she had said only one thing at the beginning— "I will teach you the power of your words." – and the entire class knew they were in for it.
The words certainly packed a punch—she had them turning in an assignment every day—but while she could be a mean old slavedriver, heck if the woman couldn't teach.
More than just being able to write, she invited them to think, and then the challenge for them all was to put those thoughts down in coherent sentences.
She would trace difficult words down to their roots, describe the languages they came from, tell of the people that would have once used them and let them figure out how to use them now.
She could discuss anything from Shakespeare to Mozart to Modern Science. Then with Sarai, Mrs. Alero actively called her into the class. You should've have seen them get going—they could have discussions that the rest of the class could barely follow before Mrs. Alero explained everything in a way that tied everything she'd been teaching together.
Best of all, she could spin stories out of anything, even thin air. When she was in a good mood, maybe they'd finished five minutes early, or had done better on an assignment than she expected, she'd tell them one, and if they somehow put her in a bad one, she'd either not, or leave it off without the ending until they managed to smooth things over.
It was amazing.
After one such class, Riley came over to Jordan again, "I've given up guessing— how did you do it?"
Jordan wanted to pretend she didn't know what he was talking about—she hadn't really done anything.
She told him that.
"Still, its impressive," he said, fiddling with the cuff of his blazer, "I don't think we've ever her in class this long other than her first few weeks here." She forgot—even Riley was an old timer.
"She must have been a bit milder then. Right now—it must be rough for both you and teachers—she's got a lot of red marks coming in."
Riley laughed, "Yeah, I think I'm on her nineteenth one," he said offhandedly.
Jordan did a double take-- this was just Wednesday! Most students passed the entire term without working up to three.
"Is she going to be in a lot of trouble?"
He waved off her worries, "Nah, even if she gets a couple more, she should be able to work them off easily—little things like cleaning the whiteboard and arranging chairs in the auditorium—most of the teachers are just annoyed, none really have it out for her. As long as nothing major happens, it should be fine."
Jordan relaxed at that.
"But I should emphasize," he warned as he left—the next teacher had just walked into class, "No major incidents. It wouldn't look good for her then."
Yeah… he just had to jinx it.
They had another session of French that left Jordan's ears tingling with sentence translations and verb conjugations, and after, headed to the cafeteria in a bit of a hurry. The teacher had eaten into their lunch a little.
They walked into a hallway leading away from the classrooms and found a crowd of students had gathered around there.
There was no alternative way, so they had no choice but to go forward and see if they could slip by.
Getting closer, they could finally see what was going on—a boy about their age had his grip around the collar of a younger looking kid. Jordan recognised both of them—the little kid was the errand boy she'd seen fliting around those students in the hallway back then, and the other was one of the team, a couple of the other students from then stood around them. Guess there was a fight among the group.
One girl stood close by, telling him to let go of the boy.
Sarai tugged on Jordan's hand, looking uninterested, "Come on, its none of our business, let's go."
"Shouldn't we get someone?" Jordan asked. She took a look back—though the boy was smaller, he was staring the older kid down something fierce. She recognised defiance in his face, though he was probably weaker. It reminded her of herself, all those times she stared back the same way too. Her hand clenched into a fist.
Sarai looked down at it and stopped. She smiled, "Guess I found my chance to make it up to you."
Jordan's eyebrows creased—what was she talking about?
Before she could say anything to her, Sarai sauntered over, "Hey, Fola," she called to the older boy, "What's going on—field isn't open today? Must be hard for you, since you're always willing to embarrass yourself at handball."
A few of the younger students laughed. Jordan hadn't expected she knew him, seemed Mayhaven was a small school.
The boy glanced at her and gritted his teeth, a flash of annoyance crossing his face, "Nobody called you into this, Greene. Get out of here."
Sarai raised her shoulders, "Now, now, be calm. I didn't come over here to fight. It's just that—" she pointed with her chin to his hand on the boy's collar and spoke lowly, "—You wouldn't like it if someone pulled on your neck like that."
The girl that had been talking to him went over to her. "And if anything," Sarai added smugly, "why don't you take the kid on equal ground, then we'll see if you're so tough." The boy looked around, and not seeing any more back up for him other than a couple of his friends, finally released the boy's collar. But not without saying something tough like, "Let this be the last time you get water for everyone else except me, you get that?"
Sarai turned away from him and asked, "Hey kid, why wouldn't you get water for him?"
You'd expect the kid to be tongue tied in front of a senior, but props to him for keeping it together, "The first time was a mistake, honestly, but if he talks about Fred like that again, I'll spit in the water before I give it to him."
The uniformed boy she'd seen back then perked his head up—he'd lost the sour look but still seemed a little gloomy.
"Is that so?" Sarai continued, "Why don't you tell everyone: exactly what did he say about Fred?" Jordan caught a glimpse of her eyes and could have shuddered.
Fola bristled, "Nothing that wasn't the truth."
"Really?" Sarai bounced on her heels, "Then would you care repeating it—we'd love to hear it."
He quietened a little at that and seemed to be choosing his words carefully, "I don't have to answer anything," he first quietly growled, "But fine—I was just saying that even though he doesn't play anymore, he hasn't stopped following the team everywhere—I mean, isn't it time he found something else to spend his time on?"
"You said he's only still allowed to go around with the team because his mother paying off the coach!" the kid yelled, "You wouldn't know what it's like to love something very much, be really good at it, and not be able to do it."
"What's wrong with calling out special treatment when I see it. Coach didn't allow me one step near the team when I was kept on probation. Why is it always different for him?"
Sarai's hands never left her blazers pockets, "Your way of thinking's so archaic, you know. I get it's not easy being a century old but, try keeping up with the times."
"As for being different," bless the girl, she stuck out her face exaggeratedly and then turned her ear to him, "Did-Did you want to say something to me?"
He couldn't find a comeback to that. Sarai just grinned at him.
Then he turned to the side. "Half-caste," he muttered out of the blue, like an off-handed statement. Jordan didn't know if he'd meant it to be a whisper, but everyone could hear it. Sarai recoiled slightly.
Okay, let's just say—rude. If someone said something like that to her, she'd be mildly annoyed, and a little confused—who still used insults like that? It was pathetic, if anything—
What was he expecting—multiple dramatic gasps, a you dare, a challenge to a duel or something?
What he really had coming was a splash of water in the hallway.
Then she looked at Sarai and she almost gave a dramatic gasp. Irritation, shock— yes, shock—and… bitterness flashed through her face, and then it hardened into a mask of stone. A second later, it was gone, like nothing had changed in at all.
But Jordan had seen it.
Sarai scoffed, "You really are ancient. What are we in—the 1900s? Grow up," she told the boy but she wouldn't meet his, or anyone's eyes for a second. Then she walked up to him and tilted her head, "You know I'm basically a magnet for Mrs. Alero, right? I could just do nothing and stand here, and she'll be here in—" she reckoned for a second, "—three minutes tops." She gave another smile, "I'd suggest you leave the boy alone."
Jordan wasn't sure if it was just an effect of what she said, but it felt like she could hear the tap of the woman's pointy heels down the hall right that second.
The boy looked alarmed, then bit his lip, and tried to look angry instead, "Whatever," he said and flapped his arm, and he and his friends walked off.
Phew. Sarai let out a breath and smirked, giving Jordan a mock salute, "I wondered what it would take to get them to leave."
The scrawny kid she'd helped came forward, "Thank you," he said, "And sorry."
She waved it off, "Don't sweat it. Just don't go getting in the face of anymore older kids—you're an easy enough target already." Then she sent him on his way.
Jordan moved closer, "Are you okay?" she whispered.
"I'm not a fan of the name, but it's not the first time I've heard it." Her eyes took on a spaced-out look, "Many, many times," she muttered, her face almost as serious as Mrs. Adegoke's when she'd said the same thing at their meeting, but there seemed to be something else to Sarai's.
Then she smirked and pulled Jordan towards the serving counter, "Come on, let's go. We're already late—all the good stuff will be gone if we wait any longer."
And afterwards till the end of the day she remained just as she was. Jordan wondered if she'd just imagined the look on her face back then. By the time they were leaving for the day, she was almost convinced she did.
The next day was relatively easy—there were no more hallway altercations and Jordan was getting back into the habit of a normal school day.
In the evening, the final three periods of the day were combined into a Physical and Health Education practical—Jordan's first of it—which meant changing into their sports uniforms and filing to the field. The coach had them run laps around it for the first couple of minutes before leading them into the gym. He let them choose anything they wanted to play as long as they had the equipment for it. Before long, mock games of everything from volleyball to basketball and even chess were going on throughout the place.
Sarai wasn't with her—they'd separated during the break—Sarai had wanted to get to the cafeteria while Jordan wasn't really interested, besides she wanted to work on another drawing. She couldn't find her drawing note in the mess in her desk, so she'd torn a new sheet from one of the school ones—she probably wouldn't end up needing it. Hopefully.
They were still frustrating to make, but she was making progress, and she didn't recoil too much when the images came to her head anymore.
Looking around, she didn't see her. Seemed she'd fallen off the bandwagon for this one. Strange—who knew the rock climber would run from P.E?
She'd likely be sitting on Big Boy. Jordan resolved to go there when class was over.
An hour and a half later, they were back at the field, and she'd joined more than half of her class to sprawl out panting on the grass or the bleachers. To close them out, the coach had decided to test their collective running speeds with a little game of tag and divided them into two teams. Only, in this case, the winners got the others' water privileges for the first ten minutes after the game.
Which meant about twenty thirteen-or-so year olds running like hell after each other for over thirty minutes.
She regretted not taking her things with her while coming here when she saw some of the others just pick up their bags from the locker rooms and leave from there. Meanwhile, she had to go all the way back to the classroom. By the time she'd hauled herself there, it was already nearing five thirty. Thank goodness her mom would be late today.
She found Sarai sitting at her desk, legs propped up, also in full sportswear. She paused at the door for a second before fatigue overcame her surprise and she flopped into her own chair beside her—Sarai had managed to switch with the person who'd been there originally.
Sarai didn't see anything strange in it, "Sobowale got you guys pretty good, huh?"
She nodded. There wasn't much energy for talking yet.
A few minutes later, she finally recovered enough to sit up. "So, what were you up to?"
Sarai had been folding a paper plane, "Nowhere, actually," she said as she started on the wings. Jordan wasn't going to let her off with that—she kept staring at her. Finally, Sarai missed a fold. She sighed, "Okay, okay. Since P.H.E's basically a class to make us get active, I talked to Mrs. Adegoke to see if I could use the time to clear off some of those red notices. She said yes and that's what I've been working on."
That hadn't been the answer Jordan was expecting, "I'd always gotten the feeling—"
"—That what—I didn't care, right?" Sarai interrupted. Jordan's silence spoke for itself. "Good," she said, "I'd like to keep it that way."
Jordan smiled. Alright—she wouldn't go blabbing.
Sarai looked a little alarmed, "I see that look—don't go pegging me as soft now. I just don't want Mrs. Alero breathing down my neck by the end of the term." She calmed down, "Anyway, I should be done by tomorrow."
Now Jordan was a little alarmed. Clearing one red notice required completing five designated community service tasks. To finish at least nine in two days…
"Overachiever, much?" she said, partly as a joke, partly out of alarm. Thankfully, Sarai had the decency to laugh.
She looked at the clock on the wall. Shoot, five-forty. When had it gotten that late? She unzipped her bag and started packing up her things.
When she was almost done, she accidentally reached out too far and tipped the bag over—yeah, she could be real smooth like that sometimes. A couple of pens and pencils and a book dropped between them. She scrambled for the stationery; Sarai helped her with the note.
When she'd gotten everything, she handed it to her. As she did, she must have held it a little loosely—a sheet of paper came free and gracefully tumbled to the ground, all the way at the other side of Sarai's seat.
The girl swivelled in her chair to pick it up, and then she froze.
Uh-oh was the first thing on Jordan's mind.
She looked down at the note in her hands—yep... it was her drawing one. Oops.
And the sheet that fell out was likely the one she'd started in the afternoon. She hadn't exactly finished it, but she'd already done the basic outline, the fuzzy face and legs, and some serious shading—it was a sad excuse for pencilwork, but also almost a complete picture.
Go ahead—you could shake your head, laugh at her, or say I told you so now. But preferably in a way that didn't make her seem crazy, she needed to explain this.
Or did she?
But before she could explore the deep philosophies contained in that argument, Sarai turned around, still staring at the paper in her hand.
Jordan laughed nervously and rubbed her neck, "That's— well, I… had a dream... Or a nightmare. I think I kinda just imagined it and I guess I tried getting it down— and it just. It's not really a big deal—" She hoped that made sense. Was she making sense?
She expected, no, hoped for her to just laugh it off as Oh, that's crazy, but it didn't seem Sarai was listening to her rambling. She kept looking from her to the paper and back. Finally, she said in a low, breathless voice, with a look more intense than Jordan had ever on her before, "You saw one too."
Jordan went slack-jawed.
Hold on just a minute—what? And what did she mean by 'too'? She immediately looked at her warily.
Sarai leaned over and pressed the sheet on her desk, almost crouching in her seat and asked hurriedly, "Where? Was it here—in town?"
Jordan couldn't believe what she was hearing. She looked down at the drawing and shook her head, "N-no, I told you, I just imagined it—I saw it in my dreams and then I tried drawing it. It's not like its real."
Sarai wasn't having it, "Don't tell me that. Does this look like something you'd just imagine out of nowhere?" She picked up the paper and regarded it again, turning it over, "It could use some work, but to get it down this much—you probably got a good look at it."
There was the word again—"look". It grated against her mind, made it sound like she'd actually seen it. A certain stubbornness swelled in Jordan's chest—she hadn't seen anything. She was going to make that clear.
"Sarai—"
But the girl was already onto something else, "Come on," she groaned, "Haven't you ever considered it, even as a kid—the Supernatural?" She raised her eyes to the ceiling, "You've heard the stories—goblins, monsters, urban legends, even demons— the fact that we might not be alone in this world?"
"Yes, figments of people's imaginations," Jordan said to her. She didn't like the sound of anything she was saying. Sure, it was fun to think about sometimes, but not in an empty classroom at six p.m when Heaven knows what was listening to them.
Wait, listening to them? What—where did that come from? She was becoming paranoid, she needed… she needed to clear her thoughts.
Sarai didn't give her a chance, "Look at this," she pointed at the drawing, "You did it yourself, and I'm sure there are more in that book you're holding to so tightly too." Jordan had no idea when she'd hugged it close. "Ask yourself," Sarai continued, "Did you imagine the dark of its eyes as well, the snap of its fangs and the sound its feet made on the ground while it was bearing down upon you? Do you remember that?"
"Stop it, that's enough, Sarai." Jordan finally snapped, overwhelmed, "I don't want to talk about it." She rested back in her chair and closed her eyes—especially not when as she talked, she found the fuzzy image in her brain getting clearer and clearer, the sounds coming back along with it. Deep down, she knew it wasn't something she wanted to remember.
Sarai could see she really meant it, "I'm sorry," she said, "I shouldn't have made you uncomfortable. I won't talk about it anymore."
Jordan forced a smile. Honestly, she felt bad about reacting so much. It was interesting to think about, but things like this she'd rather be eased into—not just forced into believing in them straight up.
"Let me just think about it a little more," she said quietly.
Seems Sarai's excitement couldn't really be contained, she stood and grabbed a pencil, "Alright, that's fine but I want—" she started scribbling at the back of the drawing, "Tomorrow—oh, shoot, I have that clearance—Saturday, do you think you'd want to come meet me somewhere, Saturday?"
If she told her mom, she'd probably have no problem getting her there but… Jordan wasn't so sure. She didn't have much time to consider then—a teacher stuck their head in—Jordan's mom was here.
Sarai was practically bouncing— she handed the drawing back to Jordan as she stood and grabbed the rest of her things, "If you decide to." And she dipped out of the classroom.
Jordan had been wondering why Sarai seemed so eager on handing her that address yesterday when they still had today, Friday. She'd just handed it to excitement jitters but after having Mrs. Alero first period, a slender, light-skinned girl with her hair shaved down in a buzzcut came and spoke to Riley before asking for Sarai.
Sarai yawned and got up, "I'll be back soon—" she said to Jordan, "—assuming I survive this."
Turned out, it wasn't just P.H.E, she'd traded in the entirety of her free time on Friday to clearing the notices, which meant the only times Jordan saw her were during classes.
But why was she in such a rush though? Notices didn't become a problem till the end of the school year.
She could finally talk to her when evening classes were over at four thirty—they ended a little earlier on Fridays, but Jordan had made the blunder of telling her mother five—she hadn't really checked the timetable as well as she thought.
"How's it going?" she called as they packed up to leave, "You've really been tearing through it."
"Yeah," Sarai said, "I like to do things and forget about them."
Jordan didn't find that too far-fetched. Sarai waited for her to finish up and walked together to the door—the girl had finally slowed down enough for Jordan to keep pace.
"Guess you're feeling more relaxed now," she said to her. They were headed in the general direction of the school's entrance but had perambulated a little bit.
"Yeah," Sarai said as she descended the steps of the entrance, "Well, I only have one activity left."
Jordan looked up, over the archway of the entrance of the school building, a giant red banner had been spread out. Two people on stepladders were fixing flowers and balloons at the sides. Other such materials—ribbons, petals, baskets, were strewn all over the floor and tarred road. Valentine's day decorations.
The scene didn't seem to match at all with Sarai.
Heels clicked over the side. Yup, only one person could have thought of such a punishment—Mrs. Alero appeared from the side where some students were struggling with large bundles of decorations and cloth.
She quickly gave Sarai instructions, "Go to the ladder on the left—you will help keep it steady and also pass him pins and flowers as need be."
Sarai tightened her lip, "I'd rather not." Jordan looked up and understood why—it was Fola on the ladder, the one who'd called her a half-caste. Guess he'd gotten in trouble for that.
Mrs Alero gave her a look that indicated she had no choice in the matter. She went over.
"Let's see if they can learn teamwork rather than enmity," the old lady muttered.
Then she seemed to just notice Jordan. She regarded her with a cool look and nodded, then went back to her students.
She didn't have anything better to do, and Mrs. Alero had indirectly given permission, so she stayed back to watch them, perching herself on the short wall of the flower bed that made up the roundabout from the gate.
She couldn't hear them, but Sarai stood a short distance to the ladder and held up a basket of pins to him. She'd expected them to bicker throughout a bit, but by the third or fourth pass of words between them, they'd fallen quiet, and even laughed together a bit when a bird had gotten too curious about one side and had found itself wrapped up in a huge cloth ribbon before someone had gone over to free it.
By the time she heard the sound of her mom's car, the two of them could even talk to each other without it looking too much like they were ready for a fight. Maybe Mrs. Alero was right, if even these two could learn to get along.
It was right when she wanted to turn around and leave. If she was a second earlier, she would have just missed it.
A strong wind blew through the driveway- the weather had said rain so no one was really surprised—the worst it did was send a couple of ribbons and flower petals into the air. The other thing it did she noticed by the sound, an unopened can of paint rolled along the tiles.
It got to the first of the steps and dropped down them slowly. Fola was focused on steadying the flowers above. Sarai was watching it, a blank look on her face.
Jordan had no time to call out before it slammed against the back leg of the ladder, making it snap shut and collapse like a pack of cards.
A scream went throughout the entire driveway.
Mrs. Alero appeared in a flash, "What happened?"
Fola grasped his arm, face pale from pain and shock, screaming "Sarai pushed me!"
No, she did not, Jordan could defend, she had seen it clearly. But was what she'd actually done was better or worse—she'd seen it coming, but she'd done nothing. She'd only watched.
Even now, she was completely unmoved.
Mrs. Alero had someone run for the nurse, Sarai walked to her, "I guess we're done here," Jordan glanced at her, her eyes matched her tone—completely cold. Then she smiled, "We're still on for Saturday, right?"
Something in Jordan didn't want to risk giving her an answer. Thankfully her mom was rushing over— Sarai saw her, she waved Jordan bye and walked away.
Even as she watched as the nurse came, told them to call for an ambulance, and as it came and carried the boy off. Even sitting in the principal's office, a little while later that evening to give a statement of the incident, and hearing both Mrs. Adegoke and Mrs. Alero mutter to each other that Sarai might not be the best influence for her— Jordan couldn't help thinking this one thing—
Exactly how safe was she in keeping Sarai Greene as a friend?