Always Anyway

CHAPTER 1: FALL 2013

Nora Embers' face greeted Mabel first. "You're finally here." Nora stood up and took Mabel's sky blue backpack and cheerfully settled it next to her seat. "You're sitting here."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it works," was the first sentence Mabel spoke ever since she arrived in Dayton two days ago. The weight of it all is starting to singe her all of a sudden. She knew leaving behind her friends from her old school was going to be emotionally difficult, but she felt fine this morning. She had no trouble taking a shower and eating her breakfast. But Nora's face, despite its familiarity and their shared history together from when they were both in first grade gushing over their gummy bear earrings and Jordan Catalano, seemed to trigger some sort of warning. Yes, you're no longer there, you're here now. She was no longer sure if she still felt fine.

"Miss Sanz will understand. It's hard being the new girl." If you haven't noticed by now, Nora Embers was a childhood friend. Was, is- it doesn't really matter. She had not spoken to her since she left Dayton, New Hampshire for Manchester, England when she was twelve. Nevertheless, she still internally thanked Nora. The world needs people like Nora. Warm, always smiling, and keeps their judgments hidden.

Two girls walked in and stopped dead in their tracks upon the sight of Mabel. Their expressions were both horrified and awestruck. Like they both saw a ghost- until realization washes over them. "Jesus Christ, I thought for a sec...", the short brunette one trailed off until the tall brunette one gave her a knowing side-eye. It's fine, Mabel thought. Of course, this was going to happen.

The tall one spoke carefully, "I'm so sorry for your loss. You must be Mabel, I'm Lori Toland and she's Sierra Tate", the shorter brunette one waved. "We're friends of Izzy's-" she sheepishly corrected herself, "were friends of Izzy's".

Before Mabel could say anything, Miss Sanz walked in and asked Mabel to introduce herself, as if no one knew who she was already. "Listen class, we have a new transferee from Chetham's School of Music, a genius pianist, I've heard. Mabel, if you will." The air suddenly turned cold as Mabel stood up. Their faces all share the same expression, not unlike the ones Lori and Sierra had earlier. Yet, she faced everyone with a straight face , gave the slightest hint of a smile, and said the three sentences she'd been practicing all morning.

Good day, everyone. My name is Mabel Cross and I have just moved from Manchester, New England. I'm looking forward to meeting and spending time with you all. She hoped- prayed- that no one would ask her about her to talk about her dead twin sister. She has no energy to respond to that. She's still reeling. Plus, this fake smile is starting to hurt her pride. Thankfully, no one did.

And just like that, homeroom started without a hitch.

----

During lunch, Mabel and Nora walked in on a lanky freshman being chased by a couple of juniors, resulting in hollers and cheers from the rest watching. "What's going on?"

"Fresh meat," Nora tersely replied. They both fell in line at the food stalls as Mabel's eyes stayed glue to the poor "fresh meat" running for his dear life. Mabel felt torn. She promised herself that she's not going to draw attention to herself while she's under the roof of Darlington House Academy. She's not like Izzy, she repeats to herself every night. She doesn't have to be like Izzy. But while she was saying those words in her head, the boy's terrified face was all she could see. Ignore. The majority of the people seemed to be doing the same.

Mabel and Nora, spaghetti with meatballs and boba tea in hand, joined Lori and Sierra, who seemed to already have company. Mabel learned that Nora, Lori, Sierra and now Jourdann Fletchers, Valerie McHastings, and Maddie Millings, were a part of Izzy's circle of friends. They were all looking at Mabel like she was a partial solar eclipse. Sierra, being the least shy out of all of them, chirped first. "Here, Mabel. We met earlier. It's a good thing you decided to join us. I'm not going to lie, it still feels weird seeing you around since you looked so much like Izzy."

"That's how identical twins work, Sierre." Valerie sardonically replied. "We're embarrassed of her." she patted Mabel's hand as the group laughed.

Right outside of her left glance, the freshman was cornered by the upperclassmen but his spindly frame allowed him to escape. The cheers rang louder. What a madhouse, this place.

"Have you met Nora's boyfriend?" Sierra asks. Mabel shook her head. She heard stories from Izzy while she was abroad but that was all they were- stories. "Perfect timing. They're entering right now." They? As if on cue, Mabel turned her head to five guys walking in, leaving jealous stares behind their trails.

You know that scene in Reservoir Dogs wherein the whole main squad was coolly and unassumingly walking and smoking, but somehow it was all in slow motion set to the song Little Green Bag by George Baker Selection? Yeah, it was like that but somehow these guys, all dressed in preppy uniforms with their hair slick back, only reminded Mabel how awesome Quentin Tarantino is for reinforcing the fact that a group of thieves will always be cooler than a bunch of high school guys.

"Some clique, huh." Mabel was still watching them and she knew they knew she was watching them and, for some reason, that made her blood boil.

"Mabel, your innocence is endearing, but they're not just some clique, they're THE clique." Mabel had already predicted that Sierra was the type of person prone to making ridiculous statements, but this just cemented the notion. "That one-" she pointed at a tall (maybe 6'3"-ish), dark-haired guy who is smiling from ear to ear as he watches the freshman running for his life who also, by the way, is sitting like he owns the school-

"-owns the school." Sierra continued and Mabel just blinked. Oh, of course. How could I not see that coming? She was thinking to herself. Sierra went on, "His family also owns the whole New England area."

Jourdann, who spoke for the first time since Mabel sat down at their table, scoffed. "As if. b***h, don't exaggerate. His family owns only 80%."

"Whatever." Sierra, seeming like she had rehearsed this everyday in front of her bathroom mirror, carries on easily. "That one is the football team captain, the other one is the only son of the state governor, the other one is most likely to be valedictorian who also happens to be Nora's boyfriend-"

"His name's Jasper," Nora intercepted.

"Jasper, yes, whatever." Sierra went on. "And that one is-"

"Elias O'Bannion". Mabel muttered under her breath and stopped her eyes from rolling back to another dimension. The girls all stared at her.

"How did you know that?"

Elias O'Bannion was a childhood friend. WAS. The O'Bannions and the Crosses were long-time allies. Both of them learned the piano together and played for each other's families. But their friendship was strained after Mabel received a scholarship grant from Chetham and Elias didn't. Deep down, Mabel knew that Elias had secretly hoped for Mabel to turn down the offer but she had been dreaming day and night about this opportunity. So, she accepted the offer. The day Mabel left, Elias didn't say goodbye and she realized a millisecond later that their friendship was over. "He hates me."

The girls, except for Nora, who already knew the backstory, all shared confused expressions. "I'll tell you guys, later." Right then, the juniors had just captured the freshman and are forcefully dragging him to the one who owns the school, metaphorically and literally. He was staring at the freshman with a bloodthirsty look in his eyes.

"Uh-oh. Dead meat."

"No way."

"Uh, yes way."

"Ronan's gonna tear his limbs off."

"c*****e! c*****e! c*****e!"

Before she knew or could control what she was doing, Mabel had already stood up and slammed her tray on the table. Silence washed over the room as all eyes turned to her. She tried her best to keep a still face. The metaphor and literal owner of the school had already loosened his grip on the freshman's collar and was already staring at her like a direwolf from Game of Thrones. She hoped her placid face would make up for the shaking hands she tried to hide. She willed her voice not to falter. "What do you think you're doing?".

He scoffed, mocking her throughout. "What do you think you're doing?" His patronizing tone seemed to swirl in the open.

Was it a few minutes, a few seconds, a millisecond of silence that passed until Mabel spoke? She didn't really notice. "Just let him go."

He was calm, too calm. Like the calm before the storm kind of calm. "Fine." He lets him go and slowly walked over to her until they were face to face. "You must be Mabel Cross. My condolences." His face being the literal embodiment of I don't give a f**k, though.

Mabel stood there and stared at him, trying her best not to show any trace of emotions.

He carried on without skipping a beat. "I understand your grief, but you should still know how things work here. People tend to mind their own business when I do mine. You stay out of my way and I stay out of yours. Trust me, that's probably the smartest choice."

"Shut up," was all Mabel could say, but somehow it worked. His face fell and, all of a sudden, he was struggling to find the words.

"What did you say?" The look on his face was both incredulous and offended. It was almost funny. It was as if no one had ever done this before, so his brain was temporarily malfunctioning, struggling to process and respond to the new input.

"I said shut up." Mabel enunciated each word as she closed the gap between them. The temporary glitch she saw in Ronan's eyes gave her a serotonin boost. Power can really screw with your head. He flinches as she comes close to the tip of his nose. "I'll say it again. Shut up."

He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His jaw clenched and nothing but resentment was storming in his eyes but again, calm as the dead sea. "You'll regret this, Mabel Cross."

"No, I won't."

A beat. "Alright, since you're so keen on risking your life for this useless halfwit, I'll respect your decision." He snaps his fingers and the juniors dragged the freshman next to him. He motioned for something and one of them gave him a black dog leash with a tiny silver bell attached to it. He held it up in front of Mabel's face. "Maybe you can teach him a few tricks."

Mabel's parents had always described her as impulsive, the type to act first without thinking, and deep inside, she had always known that this facet of hers would be her downfall someday, like Heathcliff with his own bitterness and anger (She's not so sure though if this was the right analogy, she never really finished reading Wuthering Heights). This was the last thing that ran through her head as she grabbed a plate of spaghetti and slapped Ronan Darlington's face with it. Now, she's the deer caught in the headlights.