The Rose Boys

Chapter One

The smallest one must have stood just under six feet. He stood, leaning against the cool brick wall beside the stairs. His sand blond hair was cut short, shining in the mid-morning sun. His uniform was impeccable, I assumed that he was like many of the students that came here and could afford to have his school clothes professionally cleaned every day. His green eyes stared off, distant from the world. I admired his pale skin and sharp bone structure. He looked like he could have been a model.

The third boy had hair so dark it was black and it hung shaggy around his head. His steely gray eyes were watery from laughing so hard. His teeth were perfectly white and straight. His skin had an olive hue to it and his features were distinctly European. A lean frame and perfect sitting posture seemed to indicate that he was athletic. The soccer cleats tied together by their shoe strings were also a good indicator. He looked over at me as I neared. "What are you looking at? Keep moving!" He snapped unexpectedly at me.

I blushed furiously and picked up the pace rushing into the grand building. Some looked over at me curiously others ignored me completely as I made my way to the pricipal's office.

It wasn't every day that someone got accepted into the school outside of Grade Eight. As soon as September of your first year passed, it was nearly impossible to get into St. Clairmont High because you had to pass an impossible entrance exam. I was lucky to pass.

"You must be January Grove." A large, round man openly greeted me as if we'd been friends forever when I walked into the large room that served as his office. "I'm Principal Werther but you can call me Mr. Werther."

"H-hello." I stammered taken aback by the plump man's warm welcome.

Mr. Werther motioned for me to sit in the small chair in front of his large oak desk. I did as he suggested. "You are a very bright young lady indeed. Did you know that only 2% of our entrance exam participants for the twelfth year succeed? That is a very small amount, considering the number of hopefuls the school has." I raised an eyebrow in interest. That was certainly an ego boost from the Principal. "And I understand that in order to lower your tuition costs, your mother has selflessly volunteered to put in work after-hours to the school. You must be very greatful to your mother for wanting you to have a better future."

"Oh she wants something alright." I muttered to myself.

"I'm sorry?" Mr. Werther asked politely.

"It's nothing." I shrugged. "What did you say my classes were?"

"I didn't." Mr. Werther said. "You see, January. Things work differently here. Normally, I know that you are used to a four "block" day. You have four different classes and four different teachers. There are too many students here to do that, so you have the same teacher and the same class all day, every day. You also, as you may know, start earlier and end a little later. To make up for your long days, you get an extra long lunch period. Many of the students prefer the 2 hour lunch to regular class periods." He handed me a slip of white paper with my classroom on it and my locker number and combination on it. "I trust that you can find your classroom on your own?" Mr. Werther asked, running a clean hankerchief across his shiny forehead. His black hair was peppered with gray and his hairline was receeding.

I nodded briskly and stood. Mr. Werther walked me to his office door as the bell rang. "I fully congratulate you on your passing of the entrance exam Miss. Grove. Welcome to St. Clairmont High."

He shook my hand, ushered me out the door and I was off to my class. I glanced down at the paper in my hand. All it said was that I was in Mr. Frank's Grade 12 class. There was no room number, nor was there an indication as to which floor it could be on.

I was on the ground floor, the walls, a clean white and the floors looked like polished marble. It wouldn't have surprised me if it was. The lockers that seemed to line every possible free spot on the wall were a sharp smoke grey. They were clean from the inevitable scratches and graffiti.

I was shocked. For an old school, St. Clairmont was almost as perfect as a brand new building.

The doors all had the name of their respected teachers on them. I sighed when I realized that I should have asked Mr. Werther for help finding my class.

The other thing I had to find was my locker. The number on the sheet read 15,000 but none of the lockers had numbers on them.

The bell to start classes rang and I knew that already I had made a bad impression on my first day. All I wanted to do was blend into the background and be a nobody. I never really thought that it was fair that my parents dumped me here without consulting me when we coudln't really afford this anyway. I shook my head and continued on my way. At least my older brother Ben was still going to his school, he didn't have to say goodbye to his old friends when we moved.

I turned the corner and found myself in the athletic department. I turned on my heel quickly, knowing that was not where my class was supposed to be and collided with someone.

We both fell to the ground, I felt my bag go skidding out of my grasp and across the floor. When I hit the ground, I noticed that I had also managed to fall right on top of the person that I knocked over.

I srambled to my feet and extended a hand towards him. "I'm so sorry." I apologized sincerly, realizing that it was the big, loud beautiful boy from the front of the building from earlier today.

He slapped my hand away. "Watch where you're going you jerk!" He stood up, towering over my 5'2 frame.

My heart stopped. I seemed to have awoken the bull from withing him.

"Are you stupid or something?" He snapped. "Why weren't you watching where you were going? Answer me!"

I opened my mouth to apologize again but stopped myself. I side-stepped him in the narrow hallway and ran past him.

I'd only made it a few steps when his hand gathered the material at the back of my coat and pulled me back roughly. "Where do you think you're going?" He sneered, turning me around to face him in the long, empty hallway. I looked over at the embroidered rose on his collar, ignoring the flush of red that heated my face. "Look at me!" He yelled, his hands moved and gripped my shoulders tightly. I gasped, it hurt. My eyes snapped to his brown eyes. I was shocked when I saw the malice behind them. "Who does that? Who just turns right around like that? You must be really stupid or something."

That was it. Not only was it my very first day in this school, I had also not even been here for 10 minutes and some jackass wanted to start stuff with me already. I had enough.

"You don't get the right to yell at me like that!"  I shouted back, startling him. His grip on my shoulders loosened and I shrugged him off. His handsome face started at me strangely. "Who do you think you are?! Do you do this to everyone? I feel sorry for you if you have to use a bad attitude to compensate for something else that you don't like about yourself. News Flash: I don't like you! Thanks for ruining my first day of school, I hope you're happy you jerk!"

His face remained like marble. I rushed to grab my bag and go. When I turned to look at him again, the blank stare was replaced with a different expression. He looked livid. "You think you're hot stuff, huh?" He asked, yanking my bag from my hands.

"Hey!" I shouted, reaching for it but failing. "That's mine!"

"Not any more it isn't." He smirked. "I get that you're new and everything, but you chose a bad day to cross me. I'm going to make an example out of you." His eyes seemed to sparkle as he pointed his fingers into a gun and aimed it straight at my heart. "Welcome to St. Clairmont, girly-girl, I'm one of The Rose Boys and this means war."

Bang, he shot me straight through my heart.