The Time of Change

In a Fairytale

    "Whoo! Who wants to go to McDonald's? I know I do!" Hunter shouts after Brittney and Nick as they pile their things into their lockers. They both laugh and agree in a flurry of words. "Coming, Annie?" Nick asks me from down the hall.

    I nod slightly toward John, who is closely examining the peeling lockers mounted on the wall. Hunter interprets—which he's always been good at with me—, "She's gotta take John on a tour of the school. Maybe we can take a rain check, guys."

    Brittney rolls her eyes. "Hunter, leave her alone. You don't have to be so protective. Let her live a little!" She winks at me in an exaggerated way.

Nick says, none too quietly, "I don't really trust that guy either, Brit. He keeps looking at her weird." John, still completely engrossed in the state of the lockers, seems to be totally deaf to their words, thankfully.

    "Maybe he finds her attractive, Nicholas. You know how that goes, right, gentlemen?"

    Brittney finally said the one thing that got both of them to shut up. The boys stare at their feet, and their necks are steadily turning beet-red. I peer between the two curiously as my friend shakes her head with a grin, throwing me a knowing look. I take a deep breath, resolved and somewhat defeated. I want to get this tour started and over with so I can be done with this imposter. (Is that entirely fair? Probably not). I smile reassuringly, and Brittney leads Hunter and Nick away down the hall. I wait for the sound of the big, heavy metal door to clank shut before I start off in a slow, unsteady pace.

    "Do you want to see my... um... schedule?" he asks me, apparently forgetting the word for a moment. I nod without looking at him or stopping, and he hands it to me over my shoulder. My eyes scan it briefly. AP European English, AP Calculus, and AP Physiology. This boy is quite the smarty pants. He's in some of the hardest classes - and, in a play surely dealt by the cruel hand of Fate, we share all of them. I hand the schedule back and turn down the next hallway branching off this one to the mathematics wing. "Do you have this class?" he inquires. I nod silently. "Cool! At least I won't be alone in the next one."

    "All of our classes are the same," I say lowly.

"Really?" he replies. "That's... that's... very odd..."

I glance at him, and there are deep creases in between his eyebrows. Premature wrinkles split his forehead. So familiar, so unbelievably familiar, that I stumble the tiniest bit before I whip my head back to face in front of me. I can feel his eyes on the back of my head.

    "So Annalise, how long have you been living here?"

    I stop dead in my tracks, and he walks past me, staring at the schedule in his hands. My breathing is heavier than it should be, sporadic and tremulous. The black spots return for a second, and I grip the wall with my right hand for support. They disappear more quickly this time. "What did you call me?" I whisper, my textbook still clutched to my chest.

    John slows his pace and stops, turning to me. He looks confused but also—just a hint—guilty. "Annie," he answers. "I called you Annie. That's your name, right? Did I say it wrong?"

    "You called me... Annalise."

    "Did I?" he replies innocently. "I don't know why I said that. I don't know anyone with that name."

    "It's Annie."

    "Right. I'll be sure to be more careful with my idiocy." He chuckles lightly.

I tell myself not to add, but my mouth doesn't listen, so I hear my voice choke out, "Just Annie."

John's eyes widen, and the casual smile he had been wearing blooms. "That's a lovely name," he replies in a soft way. He walks toward me a few steps, but I instinctively drop my gaze to my feet. He gets so close that I can see his proper leather shoes coming within a few centimeters of touching the tips of my spiky boots. "Annalise Song," he says, so quiet I can barely hear him, "like a name in a fairytale."