The Legacy of Kilkenny (3 page)

At breakfast, mom pours herself a cup of coffee, her big mop of black curly hair looking especially wild. Sometimes it is hard to discern between freshly fixed up hair or morning bed-head.
 
I know better than to ask. Mom is just mom,
sorta
on the weird side but strangely likeable.
 
She isn’t overly fond of her given name of Natalie, she prefers to go by Nat.
  
She is telling me something about the cost of eggs and how it only cost her five dollars to fill up her tank when she was in high school, blah
blah
blah
.
 
Another morning of her non-stop chatter, a good indication she had too much caffeine.
 

“Is dad working tonight?”
 
I ask as I reach around her to grab a Pop Tart and napkin.

“Abel, have you ever known your dad to miss a day of work?”
 
Mom said as she dabbed at the coffee she dribbled on the table.

“I
dunno
, maybe.
 
Hey, I’ve got a FBLA meeting after school; I’m catching a ride home with Shane so you don’t need to bother with car pool today.
 
Okay?”

“If it gets me out of dodging crazed high school drivers, I’m good with it, just make sure you’re home by six.”
 

“We probably should go, don’t want to be late on my first day and all.” I shove another Pop Tart in my backpack as we both head to the car.

The car pool lane is moving so slow, move already!
 
I can’t wait until I get a car; riding with my mom is so lame.

“Don’t forget to call me when you get home, I’ll have my cell on me.
 
Oh, in case I’m not home there are some enchilada’s in the freezer, just heat them up in the microwave.”
 
Mom reached in her purse handing me a fifty.
 
“That is lunch money, so be sure to give it to the cafeteria lady.”

“It’s all good.
 
Bye mom, I’ll see you later.”
 
I hurried up out of the car before she started getting emotional like every year on my first day of school.
 

I look up at the picture perfect school.
 
The architect must have modeled it after a story book, with its pitched roof, canopy covered walkway and crimson red bricks.
 
Water rationing doesn’t pertain to schools, they want them to look pretty and inviting so the kids are proud of their school.
 
I learned all that from my mom’s unquenchable thirst of news.
 
The Daily Pied (pronounced
pee’d
) is her source of news that would never make it to the paper if it were one of the big hitters like The Oklahoman.
 

Catching up to Shane we fist bumped and strolled in as if we own the place.
 

“You going to the meeting after school?”
 
Shane asks.

“Yeah, is it still cool if I get ride from you?”
 
Like he’d say no, I think to myself.

“No problem.
 
I
gotta
go, see you at lunch.”

Second hour I’m sitting in English Comp III thinking about how this room didn’t make it when they were going for kids being proud of school.
 
The prison cell gray cinder block walls have two windows that look out over the dumpsters.
 
I see the secretary sneak out and huddle behind one of the dumpsters having a smoke, totally breaking the no tolerance rule.
 
I turn my attention back to class when I notice everyone is whispering like a swarm of bees.
 
Gossip.
 
It is impossible not to turn my head and see what everyone is talking about.
 
She is the hottest girl that has graced my school’s hallways since Allison Chambers, class of 2009.
 
Now
that
girl was hot.
 

Julie
Tidsdale
, the one girl that drove most everyone crazy, is sitting directly in front of me. Julie is the queen of girls at school, and you can almost see her back arch and her fangs come out as she notices the girl that walks in.
 
Mrs. Horn comes over and introduces the class to Prudence Phelan.

“Please call me Pru.” Her gray eyes look confident as she stands there in front of the class for everyone to gawk at.
 
The curves of her body not hidden under the navy blue baby-tee, it just so happens to make her red hair look amazing.
 
Her voice, oh man her voice is incredibly sexy, husky but not in a boy way.
 
I knew at that moment what my dad meant when he said a girl that has everything you could ever dream of was trouble… and
trouble
just walked into my English Comp III class.

My next class is US History, my least favorite subject.
 
The teacher is new to the school and looks just like Jack Black.
 
Actually, he looks so much like him I practically died waiting for him to talk.
 
Sadly, he isn’t J.B., I think to myself.
 
He has the most monotone voice I’ve ever heard in my life.
 
My brain is fading in and out and I struggle my best not to fall asleep.

The woods were so thick, I could hear them gaining on me.
 
She kept telling me to go left and once I hit the clearing skirt around the edges to the right for about 30 feet and head back into the woods. A hiking trail is there so it will be easier to gain speed.
 
I was getting hot but I had to keep going.
 
I lost them at the clearing so that gave me a little time.
 
I heard a warning shot, I knew it was a ploy though there were three of them and the one with the gun went another direction. I could hear the brush moving behind me so I knew the guy with the bow was back there.
 
Her voice, I heard it again (in my head),
Run! There is a cave close to where you are.
 
She was talking but I could see the image of what she was telling me.
 
It sounded just like Pru.
 
Damn, the devil’s thorn was thick and growing over the path, I knew I was bleeding but I couldn’t stop yet.
 
That voice again,
hurry, get in the cave, they won’t see it, you’ll be safe.
 
I’ll be there soon.
 
Don’t move.
 
 
I jumped over two fallen trees and climbed into the cave just in time to hear the hunter stop, I peered out, he didn’t see me… but I took a mental picture so I’d remember his face.
 
I lay down, the ground was cool and I was so hot.
 
I needed water.

I feel someone shaking me, I jump sitting straight up.
 
“Whoa!
 
What
the
?”
 
I turn to see everyone looking at me.
 
I hate it when I fall asleep in class.
 
Thankfully I didn’t drool all over myself.

During lunch, I see Julie trying to take pictures of her and Pru.
 
I notice Julie is the only one making the kissy face, Pru looks bored out of her mind, which I admire.
 
Every time I look in their direction, Julie has her arm stretched out as far as it will go taking self portraits.
 
I don’t think I’ll ever understand the point.
 
I mean seriously, is it really necessary to document your look, minute by minute?

 
Girls in high school have their own set of rules.
 
One, keep track of the competition, from what she wears to who she knows.
 
Two, what does she drive?
 
Three, who has she done?
 
Four, who are her parents?
 
The list goes on and on.
 
Guys, well we don’t get that deep, we just want to know what’s for lunch?
 
I’m not what you’d call the ladies man, sad but true.
 
I haven’t had a steady girlfriend since eighth grade and I’m not totally sure if two weeks is considered a steady relationship.
 
Our school is so small that we are environmentally friendly, relationships are frequently recycled yet Julie
Tidsdale
isn’t worth recycling to me.
 

“Hey Shane, did you see Julie trying to get the new girl to be her new
bestie
?”
 
I say as I shove a French fry in my mouth.

“She’s just dumb, I can’t stand that girl.
 
I can’t believe I’m friends with someone that had their lips on that pain in the ass,” Shane says as he digs frantically through his backpack.
 
He pulls out permission slips for his home economics class.

“Being you’re the only guy in school who hasn’t made out with her, don’t hate.
 
It was eighth grade; I’ve raised my standards since then. Is that a home
ec
slip?”
 
I ask pointing at the paper in his hand.
 

“Oh,
don’t hate
Abe, I’m sure not taking cooking classes from my mom, if you know what I mean?” Shane says as he laughs to himself.

Even though I agree with him about his mom’s cooking, I’m not going to admit to it.
 
“I’ll see you at the meeting.
 
I’ve got to stop by my locker before math so I’ll catch you on the flip side.”

The rest of the day is full of the same crap every day is filled with.
 
By the end of the day, every guy had taken a
pic
of Pru’s assets and shared it with all of their friends; their friends shared it with theirs and so on and so on.
 
Everyone had the nerve to sneak a
pic
, except me.
 
I luckily have friends that feel it their personal responsibility to make sure I have copies of the
pics
too.
 

There are only a few of us in
The Future Business Leaders of America
club, most of us joined just to put it on our college application.
 
Shane and I signed up last year, thinking it would get us out of class; just to learn it is an
after
school club.
 
I sit next to Shane and wait for the teacher to send around the
sign up
sheet.

We are in our meeting for about five minutes when the door to our annex opens and Pru walks in, without Julie thankfully.
 
I look up in time to notice her staring at me.
 
I look over at Shane and he plays it off like he doesn’t notice.
 
I think to myself ‘
don’t sit behind me, don’t sit behind me, don’t sit behind me
’.
 
Of course she does.
 
I pray my deodorant is still working.
 
As she sits down, I am enveloped with a sweet smell, the light sugary smell of cotton candy.
 
I close my eyes and say a silent prayer that I don’t smell like gym socks.
 
She doesn’t look like she has to worry about college applications, she probably comes from money.
 
  
Our group leader Carrie introduces her, of course we all know who she is, but we all say our hellos and finish making up a class schedule.
 

Shane and I are walking out to his car when I hear Pru calling out my name.
 
This girl is planning on giving me heart failure before the day is up.

“Hi, you’re Abel right?”
 
Pru asks with one hand held out to me and the other pulling down her hair, letting it flow over her shoulders.

 
“Uh, yeah,” I say, trying my best not to sound special needs.

“I’m Pru, I was hoping I’d get a chance to meet you today.
 
You’re Shane, right?”
 
She holds her hand out to him and they shake hands, all the while she never takes her eyes off me.

“You hoped you’d get to meet
me
all day?” I ask and watch as she smiles broadly.

“Well, yeah,” she stammered.
 
“In English class I thought your eyes looked like you’re nice.
 
That girl Julie told me a little about you, so I thought you’d be a cool person to know.”

“
Alrighty
then,” Shane said, bumping his shoulder into me slightly.

 
“I moved here from out near Choctaw.
 
Sounds lame right?
 
I know it isn’t that far away, or as glamorous as Miami or Vegas but it is still a big change.”
 
She is saying and I’m thinking about how perky she is for someone suffered through their first day in a new school.
 
Her hands are flailing back and forth as she talks.
 
She reminds me of the band conductor.