The Excalibur Chronicles: The White Oak Staff

Chapter 2

Americans and their obsession with accents―I will never understand it.

"Yeah, I think so," I answered politely.

"And your eyes!" she exclaimed. "I've never seen anyone's eyes that color of blue before. Do you wear colored contacts?"

"No."

She studied me up and down. "Do you play any sports?"

"Not really." I never played any sports, but I reckon I'd be good at track. I can run fast when I need to. The past three years I haven't really ran much, but I had a feeling I did plenty of it before that.

Hannah nodded, and then she cocked her head as if a thought had just occurred to her. "You remind me of Alex Smith, another guy that goes here. He has the exact same accent as you do."

"Fascinating."

Suddenly Jim cut in. "So I heard some funny things about you...something about losing your memory, is that true?" He eyed me skeptically, waiting for me to just pour out my life story to him. I gazed at him with a steady expression. "You tell me, Jim," I said. "From what I heard from your little conversation over there, you seem to be the expert and know more than I."

Jim's jaw dropped. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered. Hannah simply stared at me in awe and fascination.

I allowed myself a dry smile. "Here's a little suggestion. Keep your little theories to yourself until you know the facts." I gave him a sarcastic "cheerio," and then left them gawking after me.

Well, I thought, this place wasn't as bad as I feared. It was worse. At least in my old schools the kids didn't know anything about my past. Now people actually talked to me. That was new. I was used to being avoided.

I continued down the hallway toward my first hour class―history―, deep in thought, so I didn't see the kid in front of me until I walked right into him.

The impact caused the guy to stumble forward and drop his books. He muttered a curse and bent down to pick them up. I mumbled an apology and stooped down to help him, but he raised his hand to stop me. "Forget it." He straightened with books in hand and raised his head to get a good look at me.

Once we saw each other properly, we both froze. He wore a skin-tight athletic shirt and basketball shorts along with expensive looking running shoes. He appeared very close to my age, a little younger, perhaps, with straight dirty-blond hair, and was about an inch or two shorter than me.

He was also the boy I had seen from my nightmares.

I was sure of it. And it wasn't just me, because a spark of recognition seemed to flash across the guy's face, and he suddenly winced and clutched his head as if he were in pain. He knew me. I don't know how, but he did.

I licked my lips nervously. "Have we met before?" I asked softly.

He opened his mouth to reply when two guys popped out of nowhere and pounded him on the back. "Hey, Alex!" they greeted him enthusiastically. "We've got two minutes 'till the bell rings." Then they seemed to notice me for the first time and their eyes widened. "Hey, this is the new kid," the shorter of the two said. He shot Alex a questioning look. "Why are you talking to him? We're supposed to give the new kids a hard time, it's a tradition."

Alex gave them a halfhearted sly smile. "Hi, Rick. Tom." Then his gaze returned to me with a look of distaste as he answered him. "The idiot ran into me and made me drop my books." He smirked at my bewildered expression and took a step closer to me. "Watch where you're going for future reference...and no, I have never seen you before in my life." He gestured for his friends to follow him down the hallway, and they snickered stupidly, mocking my expression as they strutted away to their classes. The boy named Alex didn't look back at me even once.