So I've been working on my fanfic some more. Wow, I've forgotten so much!!! But just by finishing episode 4, I've already got more ideas flowing!!! So nice to be able to work!!!
Anywho, Part I is what's called "It Begins", not the chapter. Chapter 1 is Aldarn. I'll fix that right now!!!
And onto Part I Chapter 2!!!
Will - Heatherfield, Earth
Will blew her blood red hair out of her face and glared at her mother. But Susan Vandom was busy gabbing away to the office secretary. The forty-year-old, raven-haired beauty had the uncanny ability to make friends with almost anyone she met, and could easily turn any situation to her advantage, something her daughter had never mastered. It was annoying to watch it in action, especially at her new middle school.
"Stop it, it’ll be different this time," she muttered. "No one here even knows you can read minds!"
The encouraging thought made her smile. But it faded when she sensed a student wondering about what she’d said. She glanced behind her to see an African-American girl about her age sitting in the pink chairs that adorned the front office. Will’s heart started pounding while her body went ice cold. Confusion wasn’t good. Not good at all. It led to questions that Will couldn’t answer, making stupid people to jumped to the wrong conclusions. Which equaled the death of Will’s reputation. Before it was even born.
Will silently cursed herself over and over again while staring resolutely at the back of her mom’s designer boots. She couldn’t believe that she’d actually said that out loud! But all the mental voices around her made hard to think without speaking aloud…
Just when her panic began to overwhelm her, her mother’s voice quieted the now roaring voices in her mind.
"Will, they’re ready for us, honey."
Will sighed and started to follow her mom, still eyeing the floor. But her mother’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.
"It’ll be alright, sweetheart," her mom assured her. "No one’s going to hurt you here. I won’t let them."
Will’s brown eyes dropped from her mom’s. She’d heard that before and had still come home covered in bruises.
Susan Vandom sighed and rubbed her thirteen-year-old’s back. Will just pulled on her pink hoodie and followed the secretary into an office where she slumped into a chair and focused on her purple jeans, red sweater and black sneakers. Both the secretary and councilor were in skirt suits and heels, and Ms. Vandom had also worn a skirt and blazer, making Will feel very underdressed. She racked her brain, trying to remember what the girl had been wearing, but she’d focused on the thoughts in her head, not her apparel. She hoped that the school was super strict about dress code, or worse: have uniforms. The very thought had her shuddering.
The councilor that handled Will’s papers was a plump woman with curly, white hair piled on top of her head like an ivory tower. As Ms. Vandom took the seat beside Will, the woman smiled at them. Will immediately didn’t like her. Not the way those green eyes didn’t match the slick smile.
"Hello, Wilhelmina, Ms. Vandom," the woman said.
"It’s Will," Will corrected.
The woman ignored her. "My name is Principal Knickerbocker."
"You’re the principal?" Will blurted. "Why the heck at you doing this job?"
She would’ve also asked where the corny name came from, but she could already feel her mother’s glare. A history of distrusting authority figures hung over Will’s head, and her mom wasn’t going to spend another school year going to the school for meeting after meeting. Will heard the frustration in her mom’s inner monologue. And insulting the principal of her new school—a private institute none the less—would be the worst way to start the year off.
"Yes, I am," the woman replied, her tone matching her mental disapproval. "Our councilor is out sick with the stomach flu, and won’t return until he has fully recovered. Until then I will take on some of his responsibilities."
"How long do you think he’ll be gone?" Will’s mother asked, a little skeptical.
"Oh not for very long, a few more days at the most," Knickerbocker smoothly replied, that same smile still plastered to her face.
"Okay," Susan said, still sounding uncertain. Will knew that tone—her mother didn‘t trust the school.
"Now, Wilhelmina," Mrs. Knickerbocker said, her bright smile trying, and failing, to impress the fourteen-year-old, "how much do you know about Sheffield Institution?"
"That the name sounds like a prison," Will muttered. "And again," she said at regular volume, "I go by Will."
The phony smile started to crack a little as the principal tried not to show her fraying patience. Will’s mom openly glared, but her mind showed that she was really trying not to laugh.
Knickerbocker cleared her throat and went on. "Well, its history is quite the opposite. This school has existed since 1878 as a school for ladies to…"
Will zoned out while staring just past the principal and out a window. She’d heard the lecture in Knickerbocker’s mind before she’d commented on the name. It was an old school rich steeped in tradition and had a history alumni becoming first ladies, judges, political leaders and even a few Hollywood actresses. The grades ranged from eighth grade to twelfth grade. Eighth and ninth graders had to wear uniforms while the upper classmen didn’t have to. Many of the students here had known each other for years and years, staying in their little circles. Will doubted she’d make friends here, and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to.
"Do you have any questions?" Mrs. Knickerbocker asked right on time. If Will had wanted to annoy her, she’d mouthed along, but that would infuriate her mom, so she did it mentally.
"Yes," Susan replied.
Will tried not to groan as her mom asked question after question, mostly about money. Everything was about money with her mom. She’d been pretending that nothing was wrong and that they’d had just as much before the long divorce, but Will knew better. Things were tight. So she just laid her head back and stared at the ceiling while her mom haggled over every little detail. When she sighed again, her mom elbowed her.
"Stop it," her mom hissed in her ear, and then smiled at Mrs. Knickerbocker.
"Alright then," the principal said, "how about—"
"We choose my class schedule?" Will finished. "Finally?"
"Wilhelmina Mary Vandom."
Will grimaced. She could hear her mother’s anger reflected in her voice.
Will followed her into the empty hall. She knew exactly what was going to happen. She always did. Her mom thought out everything she said. Each word was carefully chosen to get her point across. Meaning that Will knew every word that her mom was going to say before she said it. Susan didn’t care. It always sounded more to the point, and louder, when said out loud.
"This attitude of yours is getting very old very quickly!" She growled. Yeah. Definitely louder. "We sacrificed a lot to get you into this school, and you are not going to mess this up with your cynicism!"
"She’s a phony," Will explained.
"She’s trying to be nice!" Susan yelled, waving her arms around in frustration. It would’ve definitely been amusing, if Will hadn’t been in trouble. "So she has a fake smile on, so what? Maybe she had a terrible morning and is trying to forget about it. Your negativity certainly isn’t helping!"
Will glared at the closed door. "Mrs. Pinkle had that same smile when she told dad to put me in Palo Verde."
Susan froze, her anger fading. Mrs. Pinkle had been the vice-principal at Will’s middle school in Tucson Arizona. That woman had made it personal mission to keep Will under her boot. That had been the last straw in the already strained relationship between Will’s parents. Susan got a divorce, and they’d moved to the small coastal city of Heatherfield, California.
"Will, this isn’t Quail Brook," Susan said gently.
"I know, but—" Will said.
"But it still feels the same?"
Will looked into her mom’s amber eyes, then back down to the floor.
"Will," she touched her daughter’s shoulder, and made Will look at her, "this is a new beginning, a new place. These are different people. They’re not going to attack you, or lock you up over some—nonsense. But they will if you keep up the commentary. Please," she begged as she stroked Will’s cheek, "give this place a chance?" Will looked back at the stupid maroon carpet. "If it turns out to be just as bad, I’ll think of home school. Okay?"
"Okay," Will softly replied.
The two of them hugged, and then went back in the office.
Well, Will told herself, time to try to make a new beginning.