Dire Wolf

Chapter 3

"Sir, I'm a complete orphan. I'm from Scania. My family left a trust fund, and I used it to settle down here. I'm living here alone." I answered sadly, overacting a little.

"I'm very sorry to hear that. Are you planning to live here permanently, Mister Loussier?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir. This place is very peaceful. I hate the hustle and bustle of major provinces, cities, and tsardoms, which suits me fine. I'm willing to get old in a quaint place like this." I answered enthusiastically.

"Well, I guess I can accept such an optimistic kind of boy like you here. Actually, this is the first time this school will allow this. But I'm willing to bend the rules for you." He said kindly with a fatherly look that painfully reminded me of my father.

"Thank you very much, sir. I promise I will do my best here." I answered joyfully and shook his hand quite thoroughly.

I spent the whole first two periods of the day enrolling and fixing my schedules. I'm getting used to being stared at that, and I can ignore it now. While I'm paying for my matriculation, I saw a box with the label "Proceeds Will Go to the Building of the Center".

I hastily shoved four increments of five thousand pesos to the small hole and quickly stalked away.

Instead of looking for a map or asking someone for directions, I decided to follow my sense of direction which is non-existent. I don't even know where north or south is. I extracted my mp3 player, shoved the earphones, and pushed the play button.

It took me twenty minutes to find my first classroom.

Stupidly, from where I start trusting my sense of direction, I just have to face left and enter the first room dead ahead. It's not a wasted wandering, though. I found out where is the gym, canteen, and the laboratory.

Before entering the classroom, I stashed away my mp3 and made sure that my hood is in place, my papers in my hands, and marched straight ahead to the teacher who just sited in front of the room.

He is called Mr. Cornell, from what the nameplate suggests. I gave him my enrollment paper and the class card.

He looked at me for a while and decided to clear his throat to catch the attention of his noisy students.

"Everyone, we have a new transfer student from," he glanced again in my address written in the enrollment paper, "Tsardom of Morvia, Democratic Empire of Scania," he finished abruptly.

"He's Kenan Loussier, fifteen years old, and that's about it," after that, the class is gawking at me foolishly, "Why don't you sit on the back with Mr. Shimizu so that we can start our class?" he pointed the last vacant chair at the back of the left row.

I quickly went to my designated seat and made myself comfortable. My seatmate is a tall, gangly boy about my age. He has beautiful russet colored skin and a big friendly smile on his face. He held out his hand, and I shook it.

"I'm Surt Shimizu. Nice to meet you!" he said, still smiling at me.

"Kenan Loussier, are you sure you're all right? Your hand is so warm. I think you have a high fever." I asked him, concerned because his hand is so hot, like I'm holding a burning metal rod.

"Nah. I'm fine. Want to copy my notes? You're two meetings late." He quickly changed the subject as if to distract me.

It worked.

"Thanks, I'll copy it; science is not in my field of specialty. I have to take notes carefully." I started copying his notes.

It's easy to look at. Firstly, the handwriting is big enough. I don't think I have to wear my glasses to see it. Secondly, he wrote eligibly. Lastly, he seemed keen to take almost all the words the teacher is discussing. Good hearing, if I may add.

The period breezed through; he told me a lot about himself. He never met his mother, and that he is currently living with his sister Veleda and his father, Jotun. He seemed to be pretty optimistic in life and quite talkative.

As much as I want to share my life, it's too complicated. Too gloomy for his attitude. I just settled in, nodding and asking a few questions here and there.

When it's already time for lunch, he invited me to join him. "Hey Kenan, wanna grab lunch with me?" he asked earnestly.

I contemplated on it for a while. Having a single friend will not be that bad.

But I think I will pass for now…

"C'mon! My treat okay?" he said, grabbing my arm with his huge burning hand.

He dragged me all the way to the canteen.

"Hey, looks like Surt found a friend." I heard one of our classmates telling his seatmate.

"Well, they both look freaks in their own right," answered the boy, eyeing me with scrutiny.

I suddenly have the urge to kick his face, but Surt tugged me harder.

We reached the canteen half the time any average student usually did.

"First come, first serve!" he announced to me, then yanked me to the nearest table and forced me to sit.

"You're pushy, you know that?" I said irritably to him. That wiped the smile off his face.

Great, I offended him.

"I'm sorry," I apologized when he stayed quiet for a minute staring at me with that stupid "you offended me, now feel-guilty-with-my-puppy-eyes" look.

"I thought you will treat me?" I asked again.

That worked.

He was smiling wide again and nodded before speeding through the counter and back again with two trays full of food.

"Here! Eat as much as you want!" he urged me and started shoving muffin in his mouth.

I decided to grab the nearest food in the tray. I just started nibbling the edge of my pizza when he finished his tray clean.

"Want more?" I asked politely when I caught him staring at my tray. I shoved it in his direction, and he eagerly dug in it.

"You're cool, you know?" he smiled at me while holding a bread on his right and a soda on the other.

"Cool? What? Because I let you have my lunch?" I asked sarcastically.

My statement took him by surprise. "No, I said that because you ate lunch with me."

"What? So I became cool because I sit with you?" I asked suspiciously.

"Nope."

"Why?"

"The boys think of me as a freak, and the girls are too annoying."

"Freak? Why?" I asked out of my curiosity.

"Well. My height. I have a heck of growth spurt."

"You're body mass too." I pointed out to his muscly physique."

"Yeah… I'm a bit bulky for my age. I guess."

"You didn't answer my question." I reminded him.

"Oh. Sorry. I meant to say that you look past the appearance." He muttered.

I smiled at him a little.

"Seeing that I'm a freak myself, I don't have the right to judge someone by looks."

He smiled at me. The huge boyish smile. A pure one. The one you see when you watch someone who got back something they lost, or someone found their lost family.

A rare sight to see.

"I can guess why the girls annoy you," I told Surt.

"Why?"

"You're smiling is quite, well, nice. I'm quite jealous of it myself. They must find that attractive." I said matter-of-factly.

He didn't answer me. His face looks blushing, but I can't tell because of the dark tone of his skin.

"Well, lunch break is over. Let's go." He stood up and grabs me again by the arm—gentler this time.

Before we enter the classroom of our next subject, he stops abruptly and faces me.

His look was unreadable.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"Thank you for the compliment and honesty earlier. I'm glad you transferred here," he said in a severe tone that made my heart skip a beat.

"You're welcome," I muttered.