If Finding Love Was Easy

ALMOST WAS NEVER FAMOUS.

I returned to my room and found that Nassif was gone, probably for dinner, as were most of everyone in my hallway.

I dressed in grey pants and sweatshirt bearing the forest green motif of Tudor Hall, making sure my aesthetic tape was well hidden and left the dormitory for the refectory.

Few students were leaving, in a haste, in the direction for the large refectory at the end of the lane where the dormitories stood.

I was a quarter late but it was resumption day and tables still had to be assigned so it would be pardoned.

The entire refectory was chaos of chatters and clattering utensils so it was easy to get lost in the din of vibrant first day.

The first through third years sat downstairs while the senior years took tables upstairs. There was the teachers' platform adjacent to where the nurses called on students with medications before their meals.

I spied familiar faces at tables as I climbed upstairs but turned myself towards the teachers table.

Carlos Devon, the superintendent of the boys dormitories had his hawkish eyes on me as I approached.

He was no doubt remembering the last time he had spoken to me as I was.

He had been the cruelest of my judicial panel that investigated the incident, taking much to the nickname the male students had given him. His staunch support for Lucas Parkway had thrown the large disbelief on my truth.

And I despised him viciously for it. But he was a teacher, a most respected one second only to the principal of the school.

I could hate him all I could but it would do nothing.

“Alençon Kapet.” His loud screeching voice reacted throughout upstairs, no doubt drawing attention that I had hoped to avoid.

“Didn't think they'd let you come back? How was music school?”

“Instructive.” I was grateful for the stoic bite in my response which creased his face in annoyance. “I'm without a table, sir.”

He nodded and pointed to one of the last tables on the floor. “There are a few incomplete tables. Pick any.”

I walked off, pushing my hands into my pockets and ignoring side glances and whispers following me.

Somehow seeing Callous, the superintendent’s moniker, had put a profound defiance in my attitude.

They could whisper and defame me all they want. I would receive them with the iron of my defiance.

Stick and stones, motherfuckers.

“Alec, over here.” I sighted Gideon as he waved and got up to meet me. “Sorry I didn't meet up with you before now. And about Robbie and Judi-"

I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and reassured him.

“It doesn't matter. They can say whatever they want, I don't care. So you shouldn't apologize.”

He gave a look of concern. “Are you sure, cause I could beat them up for you. At least Robbie, the school has a strict no female assault policy.”

I smiled at his defense for me but shook my head. “What I want is some food. We'll talk later, I have to go take a table before Callous finds something to hassle me for.”

“s**t, I forgot to save you a spot at my table.” He nodded at where he had been sitting and for sure I spotted Ian Hamilton's prideful grey eyes staring back at me.

“It's no big deal, Gideon.”

“It is to me. I said I would have your back in school and here I am, not anywhere in sight.”

I chuckled and shrugged as I reached one of the tables with an open spot.

It was a mismatch of boys and girl from the different houses with me being one of three fourth years the other five were juniors.

Guess they're something of the misfits from their own year or simply latecomers.

“Gideon, you're being a worry wart. I’m fine.” He gave a grave nod before returning to his table.

“Alec?” my name came from the brunette girl opposite me on my table.

Her blue eyes shone with recognition and something much different from the revulsion I'd seen in everyone else.

“You're Alec Kapet.” She leaned across and conveyed. “I’ve been following your musicals since middle school. My mother says you might be the next Elton John or something.”

Someone on the table spattered water at those words as sniggering echoed from neighboring tables who'd clearly heard her.

She looked about, confused and embarrassed genuinely. “I’m sorry. Did I say something bad?” her American accent was more distinct now.

I shook my head and gave a polite smile as I poured myself some water.

“No, it's me. And thank your mother for that high praise.”

Even though I haven't publicly played in years.

She beamed broadly. “I’m Mona Davenport. I just got transferred. Your musical adaptation of Hercules has always been my favourite.”

I nodded, a swarm of delight and nervousness gripped me from this much attention.

We had dinner conversing cordially. She regaled me of all the times she and her siblings watched my musicals, coming over to sit next to me and drawing eyes from the other students.

“I didn't even know you went to school here.”

I'd performed that show when I was thirteen, produced by Broadway's most critiqued producer.

I'd have been well on my way to stardom if my parents hadn't divorced and my family split.

Afterwards, any interest in the spotlight had taken a permanent backseat. Much to the dismay of my mother.

That was years ago, a year before my meltdown incident here in Saint-Ambrose.

“Well Mona, I’m glad you loved it.”

“Yeah though I bet I'd love to be part of any new project you're working on. I mean if you don't mind my being self-trained and with no experience in theatre.” A flush colored her cheeks as she added shyly.

“I’m not working on anything at the moment nor in the near future.”

I walked beside her after dinner, heading towards the classroom blocks for night prep which we were expected to use to find our classrooms for first day of academic year on Monday.

Her eyes widened in surprise and disappointment. “Really? Why?”

I shrugged. “I’m concentrating on school mostly and extracurricular activities aren't exactly my thing right now.”

She scoffed and flipped her perfectly wavy hair over her shoulder.

She was incredibly pretty even the bland dress code of the school, I could tell her slender body would no doubt attract many.

“Well it's a good thing we're friends now. It's going to be you thing.”

Panic was beginning to set in as I protested. “No really Mona, I'm good-"

But she talked over me, a smile of encouragement spreading warmly across her face.

“I’m not going to push you into anything. But I’m doing a solo number for the first service of the school year on Sunday. You could help me practice and maybe decide to do a duet with me.”

My mouth was dry from the offer. My response too slow that she probably took it as a yes. Which should be my answer, since she was only asking for my help in getting her number ready.

I could do that.

We got to the third of the classroom buildings and Mona led me to the notice board where the faculty had posted the class listings.

Crowds of fourth and fifth years were dispersing after checking which class they would be in for the rest of the session.

Mona yelped in glee as she turned to me, clapping. “We're both in Fourth Diamond.”

Which meant I was placed into a science class, at least till I registered what subjects I would finally take in my O levels in sixth year.

I found Gideon coming up to the board with Robbie and Ian.

The latter lasciviously eyeing Mona like she was a piece of red velvet cake he wanted to take a bite of.

But Mona, much to my appreciation of her character, paid Ian not a single look and started for our class.

“Alec, what class did you get in? I got Silver.” To that I arched a brow, Gideon wasn't into science even if his parents wanted him to study engineering in the university.

“Uh, Diamond.”

Ian made a face but asked, straying a look to where Mona talked to a blonde pixie cut girl. “And your friend?”

I barely gave him a look as I nudged my chin at the board.

“There's a list there, check it yourself.” And walked off towards Mona but before hearing his slur of utter loathing.

“Fag.”