The Correlation Between Salvation and Love

Sian had never been more nervous for something than she was for the first day of public school she was going to experience. She looked herself over in her full length mirror once more, taking in her outfit carefully. The top was a tan, soft, and silky chiffon blouse that she carefully tucked into her navy blue pleated blue skirt that was just a half an inch shy of being knee-length. She had knee high black socks on with her black healed oxfords. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a tight and proper bun with no hair sticking up at all and a few soft curls framing her face. She fiddled with her pearl and diamond earrings, staring at herself and sighing once more.

She knew she was not going to fit in again. Sian was extremely awkward, only really talking when she had to and usually in an extremely soft and hard to hear voice. She didn’t try to be that way it was just all she knew. She wanted to scream words out from the rooftops sometimes, but she could never bring herself to. She was not only the awkwardly quiet girl but she had no social skills either. She could fake politeness and interact with adults with ease, as well as debutantes, but she did not know how she would handle these public school teenagers with their own sense of style and attitudes.

To be frank, Sian was scared out of her mind and could not wait for it all to be over. She knew though in America she would have had two more years, in England she was going on sixteen and preparing to move on to her lower and upper sixth, going into Cambridge at her parent’s wishes so she could study to become a doctor for them. She wanted to major in History but she didn’t have a choice and she was used to that.

Taking one last look at her reflection, Sian nodded before quietly leaving her room and making her way down to where her driver Liam was waiting. Liam was the only light in Sian’s very dim life. She adored him more than her own father. Liam was tall, towering over her at 6’5, and has hair that was greying in areas. He was broad shouldered and looked well into his fifties, but was still welcoming in his appearance. He was the same age as her father, but Liam was much more warm and friendly with her. He showed her more care and concern than her own father did. She greeted him with a soft and polite smile, to which he bowed gracefully to tease her before opening the car door for Sian. Sian slid in with a small laugh, sitting there and pulling out her novel of the week to read. Liam glanced back at her in the rear view mirror as he climbed into the driver’s seat, smiling at her as he did. He spoke quietly, his thick Irish accent coming through as he did, “Madame I do believe your mother would kill you if she saw what I was allowin’.”

“Which is why, dearest Liam, she will never know.”

“Which novel this week?”

“To Kill A Mockingbird.”

“Classic.”

“Indeed!” They had the same conversation every morning on the drive, something Sian did not mind at all. It was nice to be asked and actually allowed to answer questions about what she was doing with herself. The drive took them twenty minutes, which Sian used entirely by reading. When they finally pulled up, she closed the book disappointedly and stared at the school building in horror. Liam watched her in the rear view, laughing at her as she glanced to him for reassurance, “We all did it love, trust me it is not as bad as you’re makin’ it seem. Just keep ya head up high and ya eyes on the goal of finishin’, yeah?”

“Thanks Liam.”

“Anytime doll. Now, get outta my car so I can go and flirt my way into a lovely little pastry from the baker down the way.”

“Good luck!” Sian slid out of the backseat, waving before she slammed the door shut. Adjusting her black knapsack styled backpack up, she began to walk into the school with a timid glance around. People double took at her as she passed, to which she assumed was disgust, and she kept her head down as she did with her stray curls falling softly across her sharp cheekbones. She made her way into the halls, looking around nervously for any sign of an administration office to go to and get a schedule. She noticed she looked overdressed compared to most other girls, who tended to have just shorts and a shirt or sweats and a tanktop on. She glanced down at her outfit again, clutching her book tighter to her in order to ground herself and avoid critiquing her clothing.

She looked up once more from her place she stopped at by a set of lockers, trying in vein to find a sign to lead her. At the clearing of a throat from behind her, she jumped out of the way, staring at the small boy behind her in fear. The boy laughed a bit at her, nodding once, “Sorry, just blockin’ my locker and if Rogers catches me late again I’ll have no bollocks by the end of this term.”

“It’s quite alright, I’m terribly sorry I was in your way…”

“Little proper now lass, don’t worry ‘bout it. You aren’t from here are ya?”

“No mister…”

“Not mister, just Max if you can,” Max laughed at her, making her blush again as she looked down at her shoes. Max shook his head at her as she did, clearing his throat to get her to look up, “If ya tell me your name and where you came from, I can show ya to the offices? Get you sorted and all.”

“Oh that would be lovely! Thank you!” Her voice was so genuinely thankful that Max had to nod slowly in response as she continued, a bit confused by how polite she was, “It’s Sian Arroyo and I’m from Chicago in America.”

“Oi, your folks named you a blokes name?”

“A…what? No, it’s a welsh version of Siobhan…”

“Sure,” Max laughed, motioning for her to follow him, “Now let me show ya the offices real fast. Might get me on the good side of the fine birds that run the attendance desk.”

“Oh…thank you?”

Max just shook his head and led her away.



“Bonjour classe!” She heard the teacher before she entered her first class of the day, after having trouble finding it even with the map she was given. She opened the door as gently as possible, watching as all forty pairs of eyes belonging to the students in her French class turned to look at her, including the teachers. The older woman looked her up and down, smiling politely, “Bonjour madame. Tu est retard!”

“Mes condolences Mademoiselle. Je suis une nouvelle étudiante. Votre nom sont Mademoiselle Richard, oui?”

“Oui! Oui! Classe! Madame…”

“Arroyo…”

“Madame Arroyo is a student you all should take notes from! Her français est très bien!”

Sian blushed, taking a seat in the only available seat near the back of the classroom. Her teacher began their introduction to the class and she ignored it, knowing full well that she could pass her French class without even paying attention the entire year thanks to her teachings of it for the past ten years. She felt a soft tap on her shoulder from behind her and quickly glanced back, only to be greeted by the face of a smiling boy. She smiled back politely, blushing as she turned to face the front of class again. Her teacher began calling out roll, calling a few names before she got to Sian’s name, “Is it prounced…Cyan? Like the color?”

“Non madame. It’s pronounced Sian, like the boy’s name…”

“I’ll make a note! Mr. Jacob Burns?”

Sian hoped that the rest of her classes weren’t as mundane as the French class she was in.



After the bell rang for the end of French she had a study hall period. Knowing she would rather explore to find her classes and get a feel for the school, Sian stood the gather her things and do just that. She heard the rest of her classmates behind her and ignored it, walking out of the class and into the halls without a second glance. She moved about looking for her next class, reading each sign carefully. She heard her name called once though and froze, turning around to see the source. The boy from her class before came jogging over, stopping next to her with a smile that made her stomach churn uneasily.

“Uh…uhm…Can I help you sir?”

“You’re the American bird that just got here right? People been talkin’ about you all day…”

“I…bird?”

“Means girl. Like bloke means gent,” The boy laughed at her, though she didn’t like the condescending tone to it that reminded her of her parents. She shrunk into herself, already feeling too vulnerable as the boy stared her down with an almost hungry look, “Quite an attractive little bird, aren’t you? Should let me show you the ropes here…”

His hand went up to her arm and she desperately glanced around, noticing the hallways were completely empty by then. Looking back to the boy she smiled nervously, looking down at her shoes, “I should be fine, thank you.”

“Wasn’t a question love…”

“Please let me go,” Her voice was shrinking back to the tone she used with her parents, making the boy laugh at her and attempt to push her more. Sian knew public school was a bad idea.