The Bookkeepers: Tales of Agras

It was on Tuesday that Isaac awoke to the sound of his alarm, raising his hand from the cocoon of his bed to his phone, ceasing the blearing sound. He pondered for a moment whether Uncle Connor would mind if he skipped or not before peeling the sheets away from his body, rubbing his face harshly with the heels of his hands. It was his first day as a freshmen, and yet he did not want to face whatever was in store for him in St. Theodore’s High School. He’d had enough of the experience in Brooklyn, even if Middle School had been easy as all hell.

Isaac did his morning routine in a sort of trance, knowing that the moment he woke up the panic would settle in. Everyone supposedly knew everyone in this town, which made him a prime target of attention. How many people were in High School? By the size of the library, he guessed there had to be quite a few, right?

As soon as he was showered, dressed and prepared, he took his backpack and lowered the stairs, eager for breakfast. Uncle Connor was cooking pancakes, apparently, and seemed surprised to see Isaac entering the kitchen with a good morning on his lips.

“You’re pretty early,” he commented.

“First day,” he said, as if that explained everything.

Whether it did or not, Uncle Connor took it as an acceptable answer and flipped another pancake. Isaac took the time to pour his orange juice, drinking it slowly until his uncle was done cooking. Today he still wore a sweater, only this time it was a pale blue, and Isaac found it amusing enough to let the side of his mouth curl upwards.

“I’ll be driving you today,” Uncle Connor spoke. “You’re already registered and everything is taken care of, but since you’ve only gone once with me to town, it’s better if I give you a ride, just in case.”

“I’ve got my bike,” Isaac spoke between bites. “You only have to drive me today.”

“Okay,” Uncle Connor laughed as he watched him. “Good, are they?”

“They’re great,” he nodded.

“Have you taken any books for today?” his uncle lifted an eyebrow, seemingly eager to know the answer.

“Yeah,” Isaac went to his backpack and retrieved the Hobbit, which was so worn the cover was barely holding.

“It’s one of my favorites,” the brunet grinned widely.

“Really?” Isaac leaned towards him. “I love it so much, I don’t know how many times I’ve read it.”

“I’ve got lots of fantasy books on the second floor,” he cut into his pancakes with ease, breaking eye contact with his nephew. “My one true love, though, comes from the Folklore section.”

“Folklore?” Isaac frowned. “Maine doesn’t seem that interesting.”

“You’d be surprised,” Uncle Connor told him but before Isaac could question him any further, he’d stood up from his seat, pushing his plate into the dishwasher. “Come. Let me give you a new book to read.”

That was how Isaac found himself reading Man of His Word by Dave Duncan as the car stopped in front of his St. Theodore’s High School. The pit at the bottom of his stomach hadn’t decreased in size, and when he looked at the teenagers gathering towards the doors he realized that no, nope.

He was not prepared for High School.

“Thanks for the ride,” he told his uncle weakly, opening the door with a clumsy hand.

“You’re welcome, Isaac,” Uncle Connor waved at him. “See you later. Try to make some friends!”

Friends? Isaac didn’t make those.

He could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he trudged to the building, whispers echoing. There weren’t many people, not like back in Brooklyn, but it still made him feel incredibly small. Were they talking badly about him? He’d tried to brush his hair, he really had. His tone of hair was too pale, wasn’t it? It was just like his mother’s, but with his father’s wilderness. He pulled on one of his locks anxiously, trying to tame it.

He had a map, and he also had his schedule, so with luck he found World History as easily as he could, about ten minutes before the bell rang. He’d o to his locker when there weren’t too many people around and he couldn’t be caught trying to open it unsuccessfully or something. Parting the pages of his book, he began to read, slowly relaxing on his seat. Reading always did that to him—gave him a blanket to lie on and a home to shelter him from the real wo—

“Hey! Are you the new guy?”

Isaac almost jumped out of his skin, bouncing on his seat and looking at his right only to see an African American girl with a fluff of hair around her head. She was grinning, backpack on top of the desk next to his, dressed in colourful clothing and with an earphone still on one of her ears.

“Uh,” was Isaac’s eloquent retort.

“I’m Lorraine Davis,” she introduced, offering her hand. “You?”

Isaac looked at her hand, swallowing before taking it slowly. As she shook it vigorously, he responded softly. “Isaac Summers.”

“Isaac! Well, it’s nice to meet you!” she chirped. Lorraine was a chubby, pretty and bubbly girl, it seemed. Isaac was mildly scared that she considered him a friend already. “We don’t really get new people in St. Theodore’s, so you’ve been the talk of town for a while.”

“I have?” Oh, God, no, please, let this be a nightmare.

“Yeah,” she unplugged her earphones from her phone and recklessly knotted them into a ball, shoving it inside her pocket. Isaac was horrified. “Your uncle’s Connor Summers, right?”

“Yes,” it was too late to go back to his book now. He was forced to be friendly and sociable until she got bored.

Breathe, Isaac, just breathe. She’s probably like a squirrel or a puppy, she’ll get bored of you soon enough when she realizes you’re nothing especial.

“You’ll see me around, then,” she grinned. “I go very often to the library.”

“You do?” he frowned. He couldn’t figure out why a bubbly and social girl would want to spend her hours with books instead of… well, a party or something people his age did. Right? People in Brooklyn weren’t interested in libraries.

Before she could keep talking, a bunch of people began to fill the classroom, and Isaac felt that pit once again inside him, growing exponentially as the stares increased. He tried to hide in the words of Dave Duncan, but it was impossible. He tried to convince himself that not everyone was criticising him. Probably. Maybe. Who was he even kidding?

“Hey!”

Isaac once again tore his eyes away from his most trusted shield only to be met with a bunch of guys smirking and snickering at him.

“You’re Summers' nephew, right?” the one who spoke had stylish hair, and he wore clothes that spoke about the sum of his family’s money. Isaac already didn’t like him, especially when he noticed Lorraine scoffing at the boy.

“Yeah,” he frowned.

“You a bookworm, too?” he threw, as if that were an insult. “We thought you’d be a cool new guy. Turns out you’re just going to be a dweeb, uh?”

Isaac refused to say anything—mainly because this seemed like a guy who was popular and strong, both traits which he did not possess, and he didn’t fancy being tossed around by a bunch of jerks on his very first day of school. So much for the quiet morning he’d hoped.

“Hey, dweeb!” the guy called out as he refused to answer, growing steadily more nervous as Stylish and Expensive began to approach him. “I’m talking to you!”

“Leave him alone, Price!” Lorraine glared at him harshly, and Isaac found himself thinking that he was lucky not to be at the other end of that look. To Price it seemed something worth of laughter, though, because he didn’t take her warning seriously. “He’s done nothing wrong! Why don’t you try to do this town a favour and jump off a bridge, would you?”

“Whatever you say, fat-ass,” he threw back.

Isaac’s fingers crisped on the cover of his book, feeling anger swell inside him at the insult he’d thrown at Lorraine. It was uncalled for, cruel and unnecessary and Lorraine wasn’t even fat. Lorraine was nice and spoke to him like a friend and not like a loser for reading. Isaac was suddenly glad that she’d decided to speak to him first.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as Price left them alone to sit on the other side of the class, surrounded by a few classmates that threw Isaac curious glances.

“That’s funny,” she rolled her eyes and settled back against her seat. “You shouldn’t be, Isaac. That was Shawn Price and he’s a jerk, as you can probably tell. He thinks just ‘cause his family owns over half the town he’s got everyone wrapped around his finger.”

“Not you?” the words were out before he could stop them, but thankfully Lorraine let out the biggest grin he’d ever seen a girl wear and gave him a thumb up.

“Not me!” she laughed.

Isaac did like Lorraine.

St. Theodore’s High School turned out to be just like his old school back in Brooklyn. The teachers were mostly unmotivated already—with the exception of Ms. Woodwork, the young and lively woman who taught English 1 and whom everyone seemed to like. Lorraine had followed him through the day, since they apparently had the same classes save for Algebra, where he took Algebra 2 and she took Algebra 1.

He’d planned on reading at lunch and try to avoid anything that might put him on the spot, such as going to the cafeteria with Lorraine and being ogled at by a bunch of people—of course, that was what ended up happening.

“Relax,” the bubbly girl spoke as they waited in line and he tried to hide by facing the lunch lady. She wasn’t that bad to stare at, if he ignored her teeth, really. “They’ll get over you in a week or two. People in this town will find better things to gossip about as soon as there’s a party around.”

“I thought people in small towns were supposed to be friendly,” he whispered (and to himself) but his new friend seemed to hear it and she let out a rather loud snort that made the girl in front of them wrinkle her nose at her.

“St. Theodore’s is not just a small town,” her spirit seemed to diminish there, dulling as a serious expression took over her features. She lifted a hand and ran it right below her ear, where Isaac noticed a slightly puckered little scar that was almost unnoticeable. “Wish it was, sometimes, though.”

Isaac didn’t ask about it for various reasons. One of them being the far-away look Lorraine had, as if it was something she had thought about more often than not. Another reason was to hold his tongue, knowing that he may not like the answer or want the answer anyway. The final one was because he didn’t know if he was supposed to ask—was it polite? Was it rude? Did it mean he was prying? What if she got offended and didn’t speak to him anymore and Shawn Price took the chance to finish what he started on World History?

Friendship was hard, damn it.

They got their lunch, Isaac feeling grateful that the lunch lady didn’t expect him to talk at all, and he followed Lorraine into one of the dull, brown tables the building offered, where someone was already sitting—reading, to Isaac’s surprise and shy delight. He couldn’t read the title, but the boy seemed immersed in the story, brow furrowed as he distractedly ate lunch.

Lorraine made aid and threw her tray to the table, startling the teenager to the point of making him jump (just like she had done with Isaac as they met) and she laughed loudly, dropping next to him. Isaac debated for a few awkward seconds where to properly sit before he flopped down in front of Lorraine, who sat next to her friend.

“Jesus, Lorrie,” he hissed, putting his book down and glaring at her. “You do this every damn first day of school, doesn’t it get boring?”

“Nope,” she took her drink and sloshed it towards Isaac, who looked up sheepishly from his own lunch. “That’s Isaac, the new guy. He’s a reader and I saved him from King Douche Bag.”

“Isaac, uh?” the boy grinned. He was a handsome guy—African American, with plush lips and short hair that contrasted against Lorraine’s bushy one. He realized that they looked alike, so they had to be related. “My name’s Will. I’m Lorraine’s brother, and I’m a Sophomore, so I won’t be seeing you much, I’m afraid. But it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Isaac replied after a lungful of air. He was just about to summon the courage to ask what was the book he was reading when someone pulled the chair beside him and dropped a lunch bag in front of him. Oh God—just when Isaac thought he’d had enough human interactions for the day.

“Would you believe him?!” the boy spoke with an angry frown.

“I know, right?” Will spoke as he lifted his book again to his face, seemingly ignoring the Asian boy.

“That asshole!” he spat, biting into the sandwich he’d produced from the bag. Isaac could smell it and it stank of tuna, so he quickly busied himself with his own lunch. “I was doing absolutely nothing, and it’s the first day!”

“Mr. Lovett is a horrid man, yes,” Will spoke between bites. “And you’ve already gotten detention, right?”

“Yes!” the boy threw up his hands after throwing his tuna sandwich to smash on the table. Lorraine was laughing by now. “Don’t laugh at me, Lo! This means today I’ll have to leave at four!”

“Ah,” she frowned. “That sucks, man.”

“Wait, who are you?” he turned to Isaac, eyebrows rising rapidly to his hairline. “Wait, you’re the new guy, aren’t you? The one everyone’s talking about?”

“I guess?” the blonde placed his hand over his mouth as he spoke, trying to avoid any disgusting remains that might linger on his teeth. “Uh, nice to meet you. I’m Isaac.”

“Zack Rhee,” he grinned wide. “You a Sophomore?”

“Freshmen.”

“Like Lo,” he nodded at the girl, who was talking to her brother much to his annoyance—Will kept elbowing her, telling her to leave him alone. “I’m the oldest, a Junior. Been in this town since forever. Why did you move here?”

Isaac’s mouth felt dry.

Nobody had asked him that question yet, and although he had rehearsed the answer over and over that morning, he still wasn’t quite sure what to answer. He didn’t want to be seen as a pitiful guy, like the plain truth would bring. And what if they felt guilty about the question and everything just went downhill? He could lose the few people he’d met, and he’d truly be alone once again. Isaac did not want to be alone. Strangely, though, he didn’t want the pressure of keeping a friendship, either.

“My, uh,” he poked his lunch with the plastic fork, avoiding the now three pairs of curious eyes that laid on him. “My parents just divorced—my mother’s in Quebec, and her job makes her move around a lot. My dad’s in Australia, and since I didn’t really want to go, they decided it was best for me to stay with my Uncle Connor.”

“Oh, man, I’m sorry,” Zack clicked his tongue. “I know what that’s like, a divorce. Though my step-mom’s pretty cool.”

“Connor?” Will plastered his serious, dark eyes on Isaac and the blonde felt immediately scanned as if the Sophomore had x-ray vision. “Connor Summers? The librarian?”

“Yeah,” Isaac nodded.

The air felt tense as the word slipped from his lips, Lorraine’s eyes glaring at Will and Zack as they both froze up.

“Is… is there something wrong?” Isaac dared to speak.

“No,” Lorraine grinned at him, but Isaac didn’t miss the kick she delivered to both her brother and Zack. “We know him. We do go to the library a lot—already told you I love to read, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” suspicion settled like a rock at the bottom of Isaac’s stomach when Zack and Will stopped looking at him at all, almost ignoring him or avoiding his eyes.

The rest of the day was fairly simple. Lorraine pretended nothing had happened at lunch, talking about Will and Zack and what good friends they had been due to the fact that the three of them were misfits. Lorraine for being a little on the heavy side, Will for defending Lorraine and Zack for being a rebel and wanting to get on everyone’s naughty list—he’d sat next to the Davis siblings and they’d built a good and steady friendship.

Isaac was listening the whole time, afraid that maybe he’d miss something or he’d forget something and he wouldn’t understand any of their conversation. It drained him, and it made him miss the familiar contours of a book between his fingers, the scraping of a turning page and the absolute bliss it brought to him to stay away from things that weren’t already written, already known.

Last period came to an end, and he let out a sigh he hadn’t known he’d been building up since Lorraine sat next to him in World History.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Lorraine looked up at him, a small smile playing on her lips.

She was so short. A small, little, bubble of happiness that Isaac didn’t know how to handle at all. Did he have to do it with care? He did handle most things and people like that. He hadn’t had so much change in such a long time, it was difficult for him to assess everything that was going on. Too much people. Too many new things. New town. New people. New friends.

“Yeah,” he murmured at her. She grinned widely. It was almost infectious. “See you tomorrow, Lorraine.”

“Have a good day, Isaac,” she called back.