Shelby's life takes a dramatic turn after being rescued by the enigmatic Darian. Grateful for his intervention, she soon realizes that there's more to their connection than she ever anticipated. As Shelby finds herself drawn deeper into Darian's wor...
Monday rolled around, and Shelby joined the rest of the student body in their zombie-like daze as they shuffled from class to class. When Shelby passed Jeremy in the hallway, he appeared bleary-eyed and unfocused, no doubt from a hangover. Shelby was happy he didn't seem to notice her and settled into the refuge of the dull routine. Third-period World History was her favorite class, in addition to art. Shelby had received high marks on her latest project on The Crusades, a topic she found genuinely fascinating, and had even scored a 99 percent on the unit test, so when Mr. Coppage called her to his desk after the start of class, Shelby was scared she had done something wrong. She had studied hard for that test and put a lot of work into that project. The class was chatting, so nobody seemed to notice her intense self-consciousness as she walked somberly to the front of the class.
Mr. Coppage's eyes twinkled at her above his spectacles with the thick lenses. He handed Shelby a pink hall pass.
"Well, I hate to lose a good one," he sighed.
Shelby took the pass with a trembling hand. "I don't understand."
Mr. Coppage sat back in his chair, hands behind his head. "I don't either. Whenever I get a student who cares about history, they take them away."
Shelby stared at him dumbly.
"I can tell you're as flummoxed as I am. "
Shelby recalled the word flummoxed from a vocabulary lesson but couldn't remember the definition.
"But what can I say, Shelby? They're moving you to AP history. Mrs. Ellenberger's class." Mr. Coppage's face twisted into a bitter smile. The class had quieted down now, and Shelby felt all eyes on her back.
"But can't I stay in this class?" Shelby's quiet voice resonated through the silent classroom.
"Bless your heart," Mr. Coppage said. "I suppose you could, but—"He drummed his fingers on the desk. "Why don't you try it out? If you don't like it, you can always return to us hoi polloi." He pushed his eyeglasses up the bridge of his nose and glanced past her toward the other students. He slid back in his chair and stood to address the class. "Let's get out our textbooks and turn to chapter three..."
Shelby returned to her desk to retrieve her things. A few kids slid curious looks in her direction, envy or contempt, a little bit of both. It was never a good idea to stand out too much, not at this school, yet she had managed to do just that without trying. She wandered into the empty hall, listening to the tap of her shoes on the brightly waxed floors. Mrs. Ellenberger's class was at the end of the hall, yet it seemed like she was crossing a bridge into a new dimension. Never had she excelled at school. She was never in the lower classes, thank God. She had witnessed how much those kids were tortured and teased. But she was also never in the "smart" kids' classes. Except for a talent for drawing, Shelby always found herself in the average group. It was a place where she felt comfortable because she could easily blend in and disappear. And yet, since starting at Saint Michael's, she had done nothing but stand out, beginning with that dreaded plunge into the deep end of the school pool.
When she wasn't being true to herself, when she lied about who she was, she nearly died. Surely, there was a lesson there. She approached the classroom door. She could see the students' heads bent over their textbooks through the thick glass. She gripped the doorknob with a sweaty hand. When she opened the door, every head looked up to stare at her, including Darian Martín's. He wore gold, wire-rim glasses, which gave him a nerdy but cute look. Shelby's heart began to flutter from nerves or something else. She quickly approached the teacher's desk, trying to keep the pink hallway from trembling too much in her hand.
Mrs. Ellenberger had a reputation as one of the toughest, most demanding teachers at Saint Mike's. She certainly looked intimidating. Tall, slim, and dressed in a sharp navy pantsuit, Mrs. Ellenberger could have been anywhere between forty and sixty. Her graying hair was cut short, and she wore no makeup. Shelby handed her the hall pass. Mrs. Ellenberger stared at Shelby's name for a moment and leaned over her roll book.
"Ah, yes," Mrs. Ellenberger said, a flash of recognition softening her lined face. "Mr. Coppage recommended you for this course." She shot Shelby a challenging look. "Did he tell you it was only a temporary basis?"
Shelby shook her head. Intense embarrassment in front of two classes in one day was almost too much to bear. A few giggles erupted behind her back. The muscles in her neck stiffened. Mrs. Ellenberger glared at the class, and they immediately settled down.
"Every student in this classroom is here temporarily," Mrs. Ellenberger said with a sneer. Her mask of authority melted a bit when she turned to Shelby. "Please take a seat." The AP classes were smaller, with only ten students per class. Mrs. Ellenberger had the desks arranged in a circle; the only available seat was the one next to Darian. He smiled in Shelby's direction when she sat down.
Mrs. Ellenberger stood to her full height and picked up a wooden pointer from the blackboard. "We use a different textbook from the one Mr. Coppage uses," she said with a raised eyebrow. "I'll make sure you get one, but for now, perhaps Mr. Martín won't mind sharing his with you."
Darian smiled at Mrs. Ellenberger and then shifted his gaze to Shelby. "I don't mind at all, ma'am."
"Good." Mrs. Ellenberger tapped the pointer on the edge of her desk. "Now that you've read the chapter on the concept of Chivalry, who would like to elucidate us regarding some of the major points on the topic."
Darian's hand shot up.
"Yes, Mr. Martín." Mrs. Ellenberger's serious face had an almost schoolgirl radiance when she smiled at Darian.
Darian removed his eyeglasses, sat up straight in his chair, folded his hands on top of the textbook, took a deep breath, and then, for the next fifteen minutes, he regaled the class with a detailed account of the Medieval knightly code of conduct, which included, among other qualities, duty, courage, and a vow to protect the weakest members of society, including women and children. By the end of his explanation, every student in the class, including Shelby, was staring, dumbfounded, at Darian while Mrs. Ellenberger beamed at him.
"Beautiful summary, Darian," Mrs. Ellenberger said. "Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott is no longer taught in your literature classes." Her face registered disapproval. "But perhaps you are aware of this quote regarding chivalry." Her index finger tapped her forehead. "Now, if I can only remember it..."
Darian cleared his throat and said, "If you don't mind, ma'am, I believe I know which quote you mean. If I may..."
Mrs. Ellenberger clapped her hands together in an almost girlish gesture. "Please enlighten us."
"Chivalry!—why, maiden, she is the nurse of pure and high affection—the stay of the oppressed, the redresser of grievances, the curb of the power of the tyrant—Nobility were but an empty name without her, and liberty finds the best protection in her lance and her sword." When he ended his speech, he was staring into Shelby's eyes, and she could scarcely breathe.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
