‹ Prequel: Tornado
Flood
Spencer
I whistled as I cleaned up the last of the tables and carted the plates to the kitchen. My mom was waiting for me, an eyebrow raised. She held her phone up.
“You broke into my phone and stole her number?” I gave her my most winning smile. She shook her head. “She called asking how you managed to bribe me.”
“What’d you say?” I asked, putting the dishes in the sink and running the water.
“That you’d promise to start using tissues,” she said conversationally and I slipped on the floor.
“Mom!” I yelled in horror.
She was laughing. “Relax. I didn’t really say that.” She tossed a towel at me to wipe up the counter and she got one for herself. “I just told her you’d work some extra days.”
“Oh.”
We wiped down the counters. That was something I also admired about my mother: she always cleaned unless she absolutely couldn’t. Suddenly, she sighed and looked at me with eyes full of concern.
“You’re not rebounding, are you?” she asked me abruptly. “Because she’s a really nice girl and I don’t want you hurting her.”
I frowned. “No. I’m not rebounding.”
“It’s only been a week,” she reminded me.
I shrugged. “It’s not like Patty and I were in a really serious relationship.”
My mother sighed. “Just be careful, okay?”
I saluted her. “Yes, Captain Vance.”
She laughed.
-
When Monday morning came around, I was so preoccupied I almost left the house without my keys. I was in my car and wondered why it wasn’t starting.
“Relax, Spencer,” I said. “It’s a class. You went on a date already.”
I sighed and walked into the classroom. I saw her sitting, bent over her notebook. I gulped, trying to decide if I should sit beside her or sit in my normal seat. Even though I played it off at lunch, I was probably more nervous than she was.
I was about to take my normal seat when someone grabbed my shoulder and steered me to the chair next to her. They pushed me down and Professor Ferrell grinned at me.
I glared and then turned to Charlie. She was sketching something and I wondered if she even realized I was sitting beside her. After a few minutes of silence and me trying desperately to see what she was drawing, I cleared my throat.
She yelped, jumped, and turned bright red. She shoved the sketch into her bag and cleared her throat.
“How-” Her voice was high pitched and she cleared her throat again. “How long have you been sitting here?”
“Forever,” I said seriously. “Our roles have been reversed, Charlotte. I have become the stalker and you the sexy stranger.” She rolled her eyes and punched my shoulder. “Ow! Hey!”
She snorted. “Keep that mouth under control, then.”
“Rude.”
Professor cleared his throat and the ten of us looked up at him. Charlie sat up straight and I smiled. It was refreshing to see a college student who took it seriously.
“Well, I’m glad you guys have picked your partners. I’m really excited about this year’s project. It’s rather large which is why I’m giving you two months.” He frowned at his computer for a second and I got ready to do it for him. He gave a laugh of triumph as a PowerPoint presentation came up on the screen. “He can be taught!” We laughed. “Now, last year’s project I did for my sophomore class was self-portraits. This year, though, I wanted to mix it up.”
He clicked the mouse and I felt like the breath had been punched out of me.
“We’ll be doing a series of natural disasters,” he explained, not seeing my pale face. “I’ll assign one to each of you. This may seem simple, but you’ll be sketching and painting a total of five paintings each. Now, here are the criteria.”
It sounded like he was speaking from the other end of a tunnel. I stared at the pictures that flashed across the screen. Tornadoes… earthquakes… floods… drought… hurricanes….
I couldn’t take it and ran out, tripping over my bag.
-
I came out of the bathroom, wiping my brow. Professor Ferrell and Charlie were waiting, both looking anxious. I sighed and avoided their eyes.
“Are you okay?” Professor Ferrell asked, handing me my book bag.
I nodded. “Yeah. I just…. I must have eaten something bad at the restaurant.” The bell rang. “Gotta get to class,” I said and ran off before they could stop me.
When I got to my history class, I sat in the very back, prompting stares. Usually I sat in the center with my friends Norman and Chris. They kept glancing back at me but I just shook my head finally and they got the hint. I took notes from the screen without really thinking about what I was doing.
After class, Norman and Chris caught up with me.
“Dude, what’s your deal?” Norman asked.
“Just not feeling well,” I said shortly.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Chris pressed.
“I said I’m not feeling well.”
Norman stepped in front of me, glaring. “We’ve been friends since senior year of high school. What’s wrong?”
I sighed. “Just a project I have to do for art,” I mumbled.
Like I expected, they started laughing.
“Dude, that’s such a girly class to take,” Norman said and I clenched my fist.
“Shut up,” I snapped.
“I’m serious,” Norman said. “What about you Chris?”
“Yeah, it’s kind of a weird subject for you to take, Spence,” he said.
“People will think you’re a pussy, man.”
“Shut up.”
Norman laughed again. “Come on. What’s the ‘BFD’?”
I shook my head and tried to step around him. “No one says that anymore, Norman.”
He stepped in front of me. I was seriously getting annoyed when he said, “You’ve changed since you started taking that chick class. Are you turning into a fruity poet? Or maybe your Aunt Amy.”
“Norman!” Chris yelled.
I dropped my bag, reached back, and punched Norman as hard as I could. He grunted and fell back, tripping over a sign in the hallway. People scattered as Norman got back to his feet and charged at me. I stepped to the side at the right time and he ran into a poor freshman girl trying to get to her class. I wasn’t as lucky the second time, though, and he hit me across the chin, his class ring taking skin with it. I hissed in pain and leaped for him.
“Stop!” a voice yelled.
Charlie was gripping my elbow hard. I tried to throw her off but she just tightened her grip. Chris was pulling Norman back. I was breathing heavily just as the principal arrived. Without a word, he snapped his fingers and we both followed him to his office, leaving Charlie and Chris behind.
-
“What has gotten into you two?” Principal Hardwick demanded.
“Your school is turning him into a wuss,” Norman snapped.
The principal looked to me for my explanation.
“I don’t take well to people mocking deceased relatives,” I said quietly, glaring at the wall behind the principal’s desk.
“Norman, is that true?”
“What does it matter? What are you going to do? Give me detention?”
Principal Hardwick leaned back in his chair, looking between the two of us. He passed me a tissue and I held it to my bleeding chin. I could see Norman’s satisfied smirk out of the corner of my eye.
“I have no intention of giving you detention. You aren’t in high school anymore. You’re adults and should know better. Luckily, that’s why they came up with a lovely thing called community service and the two of you will do 100 hours’ worth.”
“One hundred hours?” I repeated, my jaw dropping. “Principal Hardwick, I work at my mom’s restaurant and I have a lot of work to do!”
“You should have thought about that before you threw the first punch.” I sat in the chair fuming. “However, I think donating time at The Southern Belles is a wonderful way to do your 100 hours. For both of you,” he added, ignoring Norman’s outraged face. “I expect those hours to be turned in by finals week.”
I stood up and left, slamming the door behind me.
“You broke into my phone and stole her number?” I gave her my most winning smile. She shook her head. “She called asking how you managed to bribe me.”
“What’d you say?” I asked, putting the dishes in the sink and running the water.
“That you’d promise to start using tissues,” she said conversationally and I slipped on the floor.
“Mom!” I yelled in horror.
She was laughing. “Relax. I didn’t really say that.” She tossed a towel at me to wipe up the counter and she got one for herself. “I just told her you’d work some extra days.”
“Oh.”
We wiped down the counters. That was something I also admired about my mother: she always cleaned unless she absolutely couldn’t. Suddenly, she sighed and looked at me with eyes full of concern.
“You’re not rebounding, are you?” she asked me abruptly. “Because she’s a really nice girl and I don’t want you hurting her.”
I frowned. “No. I’m not rebounding.”
“It’s only been a week,” she reminded me.
I shrugged. “It’s not like Patty and I were in a really serious relationship.”
My mother sighed. “Just be careful, okay?”
I saluted her. “Yes, Captain Vance.”
She laughed.
-
When Monday morning came around, I was so preoccupied I almost left the house without my keys. I was in my car and wondered why it wasn’t starting.
“Relax, Spencer,” I said. “It’s a class. You went on a date already.”
I sighed and walked into the classroom. I saw her sitting, bent over her notebook. I gulped, trying to decide if I should sit beside her or sit in my normal seat. Even though I played it off at lunch, I was probably more nervous than she was.
I was about to take my normal seat when someone grabbed my shoulder and steered me to the chair next to her. They pushed me down and Professor Ferrell grinned at me.
I glared and then turned to Charlie. She was sketching something and I wondered if she even realized I was sitting beside her. After a few minutes of silence and me trying desperately to see what she was drawing, I cleared my throat.
She yelped, jumped, and turned bright red. She shoved the sketch into her bag and cleared her throat.
“How-” Her voice was high pitched and she cleared her throat again. “How long have you been sitting here?”
“Forever,” I said seriously. “Our roles have been reversed, Charlotte. I have become the stalker and you the sexy stranger.” She rolled her eyes and punched my shoulder. “Ow! Hey!”
She snorted. “Keep that mouth under control, then.”
“Rude.”
Professor cleared his throat and the ten of us looked up at him. Charlie sat up straight and I smiled. It was refreshing to see a college student who took it seriously.
“Well, I’m glad you guys have picked your partners. I’m really excited about this year’s project. It’s rather large which is why I’m giving you two months.” He frowned at his computer for a second and I got ready to do it for him. He gave a laugh of triumph as a PowerPoint presentation came up on the screen. “He can be taught!” We laughed. “Now, last year’s project I did for my sophomore class was self-portraits. This year, though, I wanted to mix it up.”
He clicked the mouse and I felt like the breath had been punched out of me.
“We’ll be doing a series of natural disasters,” he explained, not seeing my pale face. “I’ll assign one to each of you. This may seem simple, but you’ll be sketching and painting a total of five paintings each. Now, here are the criteria.”
It sounded like he was speaking from the other end of a tunnel. I stared at the pictures that flashed across the screen. Tornadoes… earthquakes… floods… drought… hurricanes….
I couldn’t take it and ran out, tripping over my bag.
-
I came out of the bathroom, wiping my brow. Professor Ferrell and Charlie were waiting, both looking anxious. I sighed and avoided their eyes.
“Are you okay?” Professor Ferrell asked, handing me my book bag.
I nodded. “Yeah. I just…. I must have eaten something bad at the restaurant.” The bell rang. “Gotta get to class,” I said and ran off before they could stop me.
When I got to my history class, I sat in the very back, prompting stares. Usually I sat in the center with my friends Norman and Chris. They kept glancing back at me but I just shook my head finally and they got the hint. I took notes from the screen without really thinking about what I was doing.
After class, Norman and Chris caught up with me.
“Dude, what’s your deal?” Norman asked.
“Just not feeling well,” I said shortly.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Chris pressed.
“I said I’m not feeling well.”
Norman stepped in front of me, glaring. “We’ve been friends since senior year of high school. What’s wrong?”
I sighed. “Just a project I have to do for art,” I mumbled.
Like I expected, they started laughing.
“Dude, that’s such a girly class to take,” Norman said and I clenched my fist.
“Shut up,” I snapped.
“I’m serious,” Norman said. “What about you Chris?”
“Yeah, it’s kind of a weird subject for you to take, Spence,” he said.
“People will think you’re a pussy, man.”
“Shut up.”
Norman laughed again. “Come on. What’s the ‘BFD’?”
I shook my head and tried to step around him. “No one says that anymore, Norman.”
He stepped in front of me. I was seriously getting annoyed when he said, “You’ve changed since you started taking that chick class. Are you turning into a fruity poet? Or maybe your Aunt Amy.”
“Norman!” Chris yelled.
I dropped my bag, reached back, and punched Norman as hard as I could. He grunted and fell back, tripping over a sign in the hallway. People scattered as Norman got back to his feet and charged at me. I stepped to the side at the right time and he ran into a poor freshman girl trying to get to her class. I wasn’t as lucky the second time, though, and he hit me across the chin, his class ring taking skin with it. I hissed in pain and leaped for him.
“Stop!” a voice yelled.
Charlie was gripping my elbow hard. I tried to throw her off but she just tightened her grip. Chris was pulling Norman back. I was breathing heavily just as the principal arrived. Without a word, he snapped his fingers and we both followed him to his office, leaving Charlie and Chris behind.
-
“What has gotten into you two?” Principal Hardwick demanded.
“Your school is turning him into a wuss,” Norman snapped.
The principal looked to me for my explanation.
“I don’t take well to people mocking deceased relatives,” I said quietly, glaring at the wall behind the principal’s desk.
“Norman, is that true?”
“What does it matter? What are you going to do? Give me detention?”
Principal Hardwick leaned back in his chair, looking between the two of us. He passed me a tissue and I held it to my bleeding chin. I could see Norman’s satisfied smirk out of the corner of my eye.
“I have no intention of giving you detention. You aren’t in high school anymore. You’re adults and should know better. Luckily, that’s why they came up with a lovely thing called community service and the two of you will do 100 hours’ worth.”
“One hundred hours?” I repeated, my jaw dropping. “Principal Hardwick, I work at my mom’s restaurant and I have a lot of work to do!”
“You should have thought about that before you threw the first punch.” I sat in the chair fuming. “However, I think donating time at The Southern Belles is a wonderful way to do your 100 hours. For both of you,” he added, ignoring Norman’s outraged face. “I expect those hours to be turned in by finals week.”
I stood up and left, slamming the door behind me.