Beatty & The Beast

THREE: Where the New Girl is a Beast

The same day

Third period came painlessly and with barely any homework from the previous classes. Though he still had four more classes to soldier through, Keefe was feeling hopeful his load wouldn't be too terrible. Perhaps, if luck was on his side, he wouldn't be up until the wee hours of the morning with his nose in a textbook like he usually was.

Call him a hopeless optimist. He did.

Sitting down in the same seat he had during the fall semester, Keefe greeted his third period Advanced Composition and Literature class with considerable contentment. Because of the current absence of the teacher, there was a buzz of conversation around him as students got what they could of their discussions finished before class officially began. Keefe gave nods to those who addressed him but, as usual, mostly kept to himself.

The tardy bell sounded and so Keefe moved to pull out a pen. He knew his teacher, Ms. Penbrooke, liked to jump right back into the curriculum by giving her students a short writing exercise first thing. It was her way of "unthawing their brains from the holiday," she'd say. As Keefe rifled through his backpack for any sort of writing utensil, he heard the door creak open.

He wouldn't have turned if it wasn't for the sudden fevered whispering. Even unobservant and kept-to-himself Keefe wasn't oblivious to the almost physical tension that gulped the room. He looked over his shoulder to see what the commotion was all about.

A girl, sufficiently hidden by a dark green hoodie, stormed along the back of the classroom and slumped into the first empty desk she could hit. Though she was three seats back and two rows over from him, Keefe immediately recognized her.

It was the kung fu princess of Whistlebeck manor herself!

He noticed she hadn't changed much since he had last seen her, the only difference being the color of the hoodie she used to cover the majority of her face. The long, jaggedly cut dark brown hair was still there, covering what it could of her left side, brushing messily across her forehead and into her eyes. He caught the white glint of the Airpod in her right ear (the ear that was still there.) And probably the most familiar was the breath-hitching scowl twisting her face.

The whispers continued. If she noticed, she wasn't showing it. Instead, she pulled out a notebook and a pen and began doodling on a fresh page, acknowledging no one.

Keefe was in mild shock to see her, though he wasn't sure why. He should've figured she'd end up at Villeneuve High, since she looked to be his age and VHS was the only high school in town. And, since it was a small school in a small town, it was only a given that he'd have a class with her or at least run into her. What should've shocked him was that it took until third period to finally discover her.

The whispers kept going, piquing Keefe's curiosity. Sure, the girl hadn't made the most nonchalant entrance in all of history but he didn't think it merited this much gossip. He wondered if the girl had already made a name for herself during the first two periods of the day. With her general vibe, he wouldn't be surprised.

Plus, she was a new kid in a small town. Even if she hadn't done anything exciting she'd be gossiped about.

Ms. Penbrooke came bustling in. She was short and trim with a cap of even shorter red blonde hair that clung to her head like she was wearing a hairnet. She was somewhere in her fifties but had the gift of leveling with teenaged minds and thus was generally a favorite among students. Keefe had had her for all of his high school English classes and even though it was his fourth run-in with her, he didn't mind. His fondness of her was one of the few things he had in common with the students of VHS.