Skies Do Fall

The rest of the day passed generally slowly. I had no real friends to pass the time by in any of my morning classes, so I was forced to actually pay attention to the dull lecture each teacher droned on about. I could tell I was going to hate almost all of my teachers already, and even if I couldn’t decipher on one yet, I knew it was only a matter of time.

Lunch was a bit…different.

Freshman and Sophomores had lunch together, so that left Juniors and Seniors together for lunch period. Only Seniors were allowed to leave campus during lunch, so there was really no other option but to eat at the school cafeteria for me.

Being that as it may, of course Brendon didn’t leave for lunch. He had a brown paper sack with him as he sat down at his usual lunch spot with the skater gang, among them my brother, Tristan.

In my mind, I had planned to sit by my brother since I was ten times closer to him than any of those other girls that were only my rare companions, but I didn’t want to sit next to Brendon.

I had been late walking into the cafeteria, so I had to wait in line for the shitty cafeteria food for a solid ten minutes. By that time, there had been only one seat left at my brother’s table…right next to Brendon.

So I had been unwillingly seated next to Brendon the entire time, Tristan casting me warning glances every now and then as if I were going to bite the poor man if he said a word to me. Honestly, I had a really nice time sitting next to Brendon. I must have laughed more than I had in the past two weeks put together.

But there was something I noticed during my giggle session…and that was Ram.

She was sitting with some other punk-emo kids, but looked totally out of the loop. She was seated at the far end of the table, staring down and picking at her food. While the others laughed, she merely sat alone. Completely and utterly alone.

The last three periods of the day passed fairly quickly for three reasons:
A) Brendon
B) Ram
C) Mr. Sanchez

Brendon happened to have one class with me and that was Speech. We got to pick our seats so of course Brendon sat next to me. We passed notes, giggled, and talked the whole time so it went by in an instant.

My next class was Pre-AP English 3, and within this class was Ram. Instead of listening to Miss I-Hate-My-Job’s speech that was mostly just well-thought-out complaints, I watched Ram. She sat in the far back of the class, scribbling madly on a piece of paper with her dirty blonde bangs shielding her face. I felt like a stalker, but I had taken an interest in Ram. She just seemed so…different.

The last class of the day was Spanish. Mr. Sanchez had been so instilling and animated that I couldn’t tear my eyes or ears off of him. He was a natural comedian and seemed, by far, the coolest teacher I’ve ever had. He even cussed once or twice, dropping the f-bomb once when he accidentally stubbed his toe.

After that, I decided I’d get a ride home from Tristan. Brendon rode home with us too.

The rest of the week passed by in the same fashion, minus the droning speeches and plus more schoolwork.

It was Friday that was different.

The day started out normal: me getting up against my will, going to the bus stop, talking to Brendon until class started, laughing like mad at lunch and Speech, and then came English.

The bell rang for the conclusion of class and I eagerly gathered my belongings to zip out like everyone else.

“…and don’t forget that we have a prepositions quiz on Monday! Oh, Robin! May I have a word, Robin!?” Mrs. Kenning called just before I was through the door.

I considered ignoring her and just going right on my merry way to Spanish, but then I thought about how persistent Mrs. Kenning seemed to be and turned back.

“Yes?” I questioned once I was in front of her desk.

Mrs. Kenning frowned at me, peering up at me through her oval-spectacles. With a disapproving voice, she promptly stated, “I will be frank with you, Robin. I do not think you have what it takes to be in this Pre-AP class.”

Confused, I asked, “But…I thought I was doing good-“

“Well you must have thought wrong,” Mrs. Kenning interrupted me sharply. “You made a 68 on your paper over the prompt: the pros and cons of tone. That was an elementary-level prompt, Robin, and you clearly have no interest in this class. You hardly ever pay attention.”

I frowned. “But I do-“

“Let me finish, please,” Mrs. Kenning sternly snapped. “Now you have a chance to redeem yourself, but I warn you, it will not come easily. You must redo the assignment, make good marks on it, and get at least an A-minus on the six week final. If you fail these requests, then I’m afraid you will be taken out of Pre-AP.”

Hiding my fury, I asked, “And how do I-“

“In order to achieve this,” she interrupted once again, eyeing me angrily. “I suggest you find someone who can help you with your writing. I highly recommend Ms. Young.”

“Who is-“

“Ramona Young,” Mrs. Kenning sighed. She turned to erase the board. “Now if I were you, I’d get to class before you’re late.”

Sighing in frustration and anger, I stomped out of the classroom and went to Spanish, knowing the late bell was going to ring any second.

X…….X

“I’ll meet you guys at home later tonight, okay Tris?” I grumbled into the payphone.

School had just been dismissed and yet here I was, at a payphone outside, talking to Tristan to tell him why I was not going to ride home with him and Brendon.

Tristan sighed from the other line. “Okay, Robs. I’ll tell them to not wait up for you at dinner.”

I thanked him and hung up. We were supposed to have Brendon and his grandma over today for dinner, but I guess that wasn’t in the cards for me anymore. I had to find Ram and get to work if I didn’t want to drop out of the class my mother had begged for me to stay in.

Thankfully, I knew exactly how Ram got her rides home due to my constant (stalker) watching of her. With this helpful piece of knowledge, I knew exactly where to go next.

Our highschool was fairly small compared to the size and life of the actual city of Vegas, and had a tiny little alley where the dumpsters were located. I had noted that Ram always went back here and met up with a couple of her punk-emo friends. They talked and smoked for a little bit before they all piled into one car and drove off towards home, I was guessing.

So once I had finally made it into the smelly alleyway, the group was all gathered in their usual thick cloud of smoke while Ram sat alone, scribbling on some notebook as per usual.

I straightened my posture and held my dignity before I marched over to Ram. Fortunately, her friends were too high to notice or care of my presence and continued to laugh at random things instead of yelling at me for joining their “group therapy”. Ram, however, did notice.

She first peered up at me from behind her dark bangs, but once she saw exactly who I was, she quickly pushed the hair behind her ears and shut her notebook with more force than necessary. Her pale face contorted with a barking scowl, making sure to show just how much I was not wanted here.

“What do you want?” Ram hissed bluntly once I was in hearing range.

“Well hello to you too,” I replied dryly. This was not going to be easy.

Instead of waiting for her reply, I sat down across from her on the curb of the sidewalk. I lazily kicked out my legs and folded my arms over my chest before setting my eyes back on her hunched-over frame.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?” Ram snapped.

“Sit so tense like that. I mean, if you keep that up, you might as well consider yourself hunchback by the time you’re twenty.” I shrugged casually while she obediently straightened her spine.

“So is this what you came here to do? Give me helpful tips on how to maintain my body?” Ram questioned, curiosity hidden under the blunt rudeness.

I sighed, knowing I had to get to my point if I wanted to make it home in time for dinner. With this bearing in my mind, I explained to Ram my whole situation with my English class and what I needed from her.

“…and it would be so grand if you could help me out.” I finished my explanation and sighed heavily, examining her face for a foreshadow of reaction.

She looked thoughtful at first, unsure next, desperate, and then final determined. It was a whirlpool of emotions and there was no possible way I could figure out what her answer would be. So I waited patiently until she spoke again.

With a composed expression, she stated, “I’ll help you,” my heart chortled with joy, and then she continued. “…if you help me in return.”

My face went blank at that. What could I possibly have to offer that would provide help for her? Would she want some kind of fee? Maybe she needed help in another school subject that I was doing decent in?

All of these unanswered questions filled up the space in my head until they haunted my expression. Finally, I asked, “What do you want from me?”

Ram’s skin went eerily paler than before, almost looking transparent. Her full lips lost it’s neutral pink color and went almost as pale as the rest of her skin, maybe a shade or so darker. Then, she swallowed, closed her eyes, before opening them back up to stare at me with those bright green orbs.

Then she said it…

“I want Brendon Urie.”