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  If she had a legitimate reason to fear him―and the boy had, at the very end of today's encounter, been decidedly threatening―then she would be better off staying away from him. His size alone would intimidate her if she let it―she had found that out when he loomed over her. But more than that, his manner was dominant enough to make her feel small and helpless. The Good Girl mentality her parents and life experience had instilled in her-- the part of her that knew she should go to college and have a career, wait for the right boy, and get married in a white dress-- recoiled from that sensation. There was also the matter of... but she didn't let herself dwell on the deeper terror, the one that had been forced into her and now lay coiled around her heart. There was no need to think of that...

  However, Elise’s nature, deep in her bones, let her know that the goose bumps rising on her skin were from fear, yes, but also anticipation and pleasure. She'd shied away from any hormonal impulses for years, refusing even to allow herself to fantasize much-- not about people she saw regularly, the way she had when she was younger and still innocent. But if the heat that flushed through her body as she thought of this new boy was any indication, she wasn't going to be able to abstain forever.

  Elise turned off the shower, stepped out into the steamy bathroom, and wiped fog from the mirror, her heart pounding with reckless rebellion. Turning this way and that as she lifted her heavy hair off her neck, she examined her curves with a slight smile playing across her lips. She had been so meek―the model student, the perfect daughter, always politely distant―for three years. She had done everything possible to avoid trouble, to avoid attracting the wrong sort of attention, to avoid anything she could be blamed for. And it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she had to put her desires on ice to keep herself safe. Her parents had always told her that she deserved to move on with her life. This was her senior year, and if living her life happened to involve playing with fire… Elise didn’t let herself relinquish power and control, didn't trust anyone-- not ever. The fact that this boy could get through her defenses so easily made him terrifying, yes, but also very, very interesting. A soft giggle escaped her, and even echoing off the bathroom tiles, it sounded coquettish and charming. Maybe her days of hiding were over.

  The next morning, Elise didn’t bother pretending that she wasn’t dressing with more care than usual. The boy definitely seemed older than a senior in high school, so Elise wanted to look sophisticated. She had too much pride to let anyone think she was chasing him, however, so her appearance had to seem effortless. She rifled through her closet and drawers, trying not to let herself get frustrated. She just had to find the right combination of classy and alluring. Finally, she settled on her typical floor-length skirt and petticoats―the same gray skirt she'd worn to the coffee shop―and high-heeled boots, paired with a lacy, corseting blouse in a bright spring green that brought out the lighter colors in her hazel eyes. The boots would give her walk a nice sway, and the blouse had a dropped neckline that hinted at some of her other assets. She tossed on a twisting silver necklace and matching bracelet, declared herself ready, and sauntered downstairs. If her mother noticed that Elise was slightly more dressed up than usual, she didn’t mention anything. Elise thought it should be hard to argue with your child’s fashion choices when said child was in the top ten of her class, but somehow, her mother managed it. Still, on typical days when neither mother nor daughter was looking for a fight, the subject of Elise’s attire was simply left alone.

  Elise barely slowed to grab an orange from the bowl on the kitchen table and her messenger bag from the foyer before she headed briskly out the door; she wanted to get to school early to visit the library before homeroom. As she cut across the park a block from her house, though, she made herself slow down and breathe in the scents of growing things. Being surrounded by nature, sheltered under the trees and away from people, she was more calm these days, stronger and more sure of herself. People brought too many busy emotions with them, and were far too unpredictable. So she took a moment to center herself before submerging once more in the cacophony of humanity called high school, like a submarine captain taking one last breath of fresh air before diving into inky darkness.

  Unwilling to lie to herself, Elise also couldn't pretend that she wasn't looking for the boy throughout the day. She didn't usually pay much attention to the student body at large, adopting the mentality that if she ignored them, they would ignore her. Most of the time, it worked-- so she was surprised and a little uneasy to find that as she scanned the hallways for the new boy, she noticed the eyes of other students lingering on her. She wasn't sure how to react to such attention, having avoided it for so long, and it was hard not to let it make her nervous.

  It didn't take her long to realize that her apparently attention-grabbing search was in vain-- Elise didn't see the boy again until she was walking from seventh period history class to eighth period Latin. She was expecting to see him in eighth period as it was, and the anticipation made it difficult to concentrate in history class; the butterflies that took up residence in her stomach as the bell sounded and she gathered her things were acutely embarrassing. Her dignity kept her from rushing out the door, but she did sweep gracefully from the room rather more quickly than usual.

  The hallway was packed with students, as always. The third floor was the juniors' territory, and as she wove her way through packs of them chatting at their lockers, she felt a brief pull to join in conversations with them-- an impulse she hadn't had for years. She squashed it quickly, making her way to the water fountain and pausing to take a drink, watching the hall out the corner of her eye.

  And then, quite suddenly, he was there, striding out of the art classroom to her left. She straightened up, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering up a hurricane. For a brief moment, she considered running as her stubborn refusal to let anyone scare her warred with her nervous desire to flee down one of the other staircases and try to slip into Latin unnoticed. Then the moment for flight was gone, as he glanced over and saw her standing there.

  “Ah, Elysia,” he exclaimed, a slight smirk curving his lips. “I get the impression you were looking for me.” It wasn't a question, so she almost didn't bother to embarrass herself with an answer-- particularly when she noticed his eyes rake over her from the elegant twist of her hair down to the tips of her vintage leather boots, and back up.

  She had to say something, though, and so she replied with her best attempt at casual. “Yes, well, I was new here once, so I understand how unfortunate being the odd man out, so to speak, can be. I thought I might inquire as to how you're enjoying Willowdale so far, if you'll walk with me to class.” She could have kicked herself for sounding so stiff and reserved, but though his eyebrows rose at her statement, she could have sworn she saw the corner of his mouth twitch with amusement.

  “Oh, I see,” he said mildly. “Just doing your civic duty.”

  “Some people really are that old-fashioned,” she replied dryly. Then, as he held the staircase door open for her, she continued with a smile. “As you're aware, clearly. And they say chivalry's dead.”

  “Not for me, milady; never.” He gave a slight bow as he ushered her through, and she couldn't help laughing.

  “Now, how do you get away with talking like that in a high school?” She asked, amused. “You've only been here a day, so maybe no one's noticed yet, but I'm surprised the homecoming committee at your last school didn't come after you with torches and pitchforks for such weirdness.”

  “Oh, they did,” he replied seriously. “That's why I had to come here instead. The witch hunts were getting to be a strain.”

  She chuckled, preceding him down the stairs. “How do you manage to say that with a straight face?”

  He smirked, and her heart stuttered for a moment. “It's a gift.”

  Elise shook her head. “Well, I hope Willowdale proves to be a witch hunt-free zone for you.”

  “Given your fashion choices, I'd say they seem pretty liberal here.” He ges
tured to encompass her several layers of floor-length skirts and archaic-inspired top.

  “Oh, don't get your hopes up from my example,” she replied wryly. “My abnormality is a lifestyle choice; it's definitely not something to judge the school by.”

  “So what's the lifestyle you're choosing?” He asked curiously.

  “Generally, solitary,” Elise said ruefully.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Well, then, I seem to be the exception to the rule.”

  “Don't get used to it,” she warned, leading the way through the press of students on the landing and fighting her way through the door to the second floor.

  “Nonsense,” was his flippant response. “I'm so charming, you'll never get rid of me.” His voice dropped lower, and he was suddenly gripping her arm, just above her elbow, halting her in her tracks so he could capture her with his eyes. “You're stuck with me now, I'm afraid.”

  And with that, he walked ahead of her into the Latin classroom. Elise stood still for another moment, shivering once again at the seductive menace in his voice. Then a girl bumped into her from behind, and she stumbled into motion once again.

  As Elise entered the classroom behind him, dropping off yesterday's homework on Magistra's desk and settling into her seat on autopilot, she was forced to confront the embarrassing fact that she had been flirting shamelessly with him; her only consolation was that he had been doing the same. This time, at least, she had held her own in the conversation-- that is, until the end. Another shudder ripped up her spine as she replayed the final seconds of their interaction. The heat in her body left her little doubt that her reaction this time had been less fear and more... she glanced over her shoulder at him, just in time to see him yawn and stretch, leaning back in his seat and looking straight at her. She flushed sheepishly, hurriedly turning back to the front. She was annoyed to realize that she still hadn't learned his name.

  Elise's frustration would be short-lived, though, she knew: in the few days before she assigned them Latin names, Magistra took attendance for any new students in English. So she paid attention through the first five or so of her classmates, and was rewarded when Magistra called, “Mercer, Alexander,” and the boy promptly replied, “Salve, Magistra. Tibi gratias ago pro me docens. ”

  Magistra West paused, fluttering her eyelashes at him-- Elise was always amused by her teacher's flirtatious way of joking with her students-- and saying throatily, “My, it would seem that our new pupil has had a good deal of classical education before he came to us.”

  “Yes, Magistra,” he replied with a smile, apparently as amused as Elise by the teacher's antics. “I took Latin for two years at my old school.”

  “Well, you'll fit right in here with our remaining advanced students; discipuli, welcome Alexander to your scholarly fold. Now, dear, was your last teacher in the practice of giving students Latin names?”

  “He was, but he just left mine alone-- it is rather classical, after all.” He said charmingly.

  “That is certainly true. Well, if you have no objections, then Alexander you shall remain. Welcome to my class,” she gave him a genuine smile before she moved on down the list.

  So now I know his name, Elise thought. Alexander was an old name, as he'd noted, and a powerful one-- the name fit him, and she was obscurely pleased by it. Despite her embarrassment over flirting with him in the hallway, she also couldn't resist turning around in her seat to smirk at him from under her eyelashes. “Show-off,” she mouthed at him. It made her oddly happy that she was the only person in the room who wasn't surprised by his grasp of the language they were studying; sharing the secret with him, however briefly, had almost made her feel like they were friends.

  Alexander shrugged, grinning. “When in Rome...” he murmured back, just barely loud enough that she could hear him. And then, to complete the image, he actually winked at her. Elise flushed a deep crimson and whirled back to face the chalkboard again, pretending to be absorbed by the grammatical diagram Magistra was sketching there.

  The class dragged by, only partially because it was just the second day and Magistra spent the period reviewing things they had learned last year. Elise kept having to stop herself from looking over her shoulder at Alexander again, especially at the frequent points when she was sure she could feel his eyes burning into her back. She hadn't actually flirted with anyone in years, and in watching her peers throw themselves at each other, had seen nothing she cared to emulate. The last thing she wanted was to turn into one of them; in the interest of preventing such a transformation, she refused to look back at him. The part of her that mocked everything she did pointed out that all she was likely to do, when looking at him, was bat her eyelashes like a bimbo-- so there was no point in bothering.

  Sitting through the boring class, barely hearing Magistra's jokes, Elise found her confidence ebbing in a wash of negativity that left her depressed and anxious. What was she thinking, trying to flirt with some boy? Most likely, she would run out of things to talk about with him and end up sitting awkwardly in silence, looking like a moron. But on the off chance that things went well and he enjoyed her company, then what? She knew perfectly well he couldn't be trusted-- no one could. So was there really any point in this? She slumped in her desk, doodling absently in the margins of her notebook as she decided that at the bell, she had better just slip out of the class without so much as looking at Alexander again.

  As Magistra reminded the class to turn in the forms she'd handed out yesterday and bid them “Valete,” Elise slipped her pen into the spiral of her notebook and grabbed the strap of her messenger bag. She was preparing to leave the room quickly today and brave the crush of students in the hallway rather than risk being alone in the room with Alexander once more. But the bell sounded, she stood up, and found herself quite unaccountably face-to-face with him. He must have pushed his desk out of the way to get to her side so quickly.

  “Walk with me,” he commanded shortly.

  Elise considered refusing. In the classroom, still full of students and with Magistra busily erasing the board, there was nothing he could do to her if she made a fuss. But she made the mistake of looking up into his dark eyes, and saw a deep, lonely sadness there that she didn't have the cruelty to ignore. She found herself nodding, unwillingly but at the same time desperate to do something to erase that look from his face. He took her hand, passed it through his arm like she was an old-fashioned lady, and pulled her from the room.

  Alexander escorted her through the halls, speaking only to ask her brusquely but courteously if she had to go to her locker. Elise shook her head, and he continued to walk quickly, making his way through the mayhem of the high school without anyone getting in his way or pushing up against him, as if the other students were somehow magically repelled from him. Elise nearly had to jog to keep up with his long-legged strides, which was most unchivalrous of him, she noted to herself. But whatever miracle kept people from getting in his way apparently extended to her, so at least she wasn't fighting her way through the crowd. Before she knew it, they were at the bottom of the stairs, and he pushed open the heavy door, leading her out into the sunlight.

  It was a beautiful September day, still summer-warm with a gentle breeze rustling multitudes of green leaves on the trees and carrying the scent of newly-mowed grass to Elise's nose. As Alexander led her across the street into the park, she felt her spirits begin to lift. For just a moment, she trusted him to guide her and closed her eyes, tilting her head back to feel the warm sun on her face.

  She opened her eyes when he stopped walking, pulling her to a halt beside him. He was staring at her curiously, the melancholy loneliness all but gone from his eyes. Tentatively, she smiled in response to his scrutiny. “What?” She asked. “Do I have something on my face?” Her eyes flickered away from his, and she bit her lip, uncertain whether she sounded like she was flirting again. But her earlier worries didn't seem so important now, standing on thick, vividly green grass in the bright sunlight. Impulsively, she reached
out and touched the leaves of a low-hanging branch on the cherry tree they had stopped beside. No, she realized, she really had been silly inside. She had blown this whole situation out of proportion. If she and Alexander didn't have anything to talk about, then she would bid him goodbye and go home to look up the sheet music for Les Miserables in case she ended up wanting to join the orchestra. If they did find each other entertaining, they could walk in the park for a while and maybe go to The Treehouse. Either way, there was nothing to be upset about.

  Elise didn't realize she had let go of Alexander's arm and turned toward the tree she had touched until she heard a stick crack sharply behind her. She jumped, startled out of her thoughts, but it was just a few girls walking to field hockey practice. She flashed them an apologetic smile as they looked at her like she was crazy and continued their conversation. One of them looked across the field they were walking towards, calling a greeting and waving excitedly. Elise followed the direction of her gaze and saw a group of boys toying with a soccer ball-- clearly the soccer team was out for practice as well. For a moment, her stomach clenched and her mood darkened again before she forced her thoughts back to the present.

  Taking a deep breath, she forced her shoulders down and her chin up, recovering her usual poise and turning back to Alexander. The look on his face was intense as he watched her, and Elise tried not to be unnerved. At least he wasn't staring at her like she was nuts for petting a tree, she rationalized.