Sunday passed in a blur of packing and stony silence. Whatever buttons I'd pushed the night of our arrival must've gotten stuck because my father's newfound patience had fled after that argument. If he expected me to come to him with an apology, he'd be waiting for a long time, and I knew better than to expect him to admit wrongdoing. So, for the sake of maintaining the tenuous peace, we kept to ourselves, passing only in the halls or kitchen.
Monday morning I awoke to a knock on my door. Navigating around the boxes on the stone floor, I opened it and stared bleary eyed at my father. Waking me up early was the worst way to mend our fences. "I set my alarm. I've got another hour."
He shoved a shopping bag at me. "These were delivered yesterday. I forgot to give them to you. You'll need it for today."
I peered inside the bag, my eye snagging on blue plaid. "Please tell me that's not a school uniform."
"That's not a school uniform."
"You're lying."
"Honesty is not what you asked for," he replied, turning and heading down the hall.
"Oh good," I grumbled, slinging the bag onto my bed. "Now you give me what I ask for."
The uniform was as bad as I imagined. We'd been forced to wear them in elementary and middle school, only escaping them when I entered high school. At least I'd had the option between skirts and pants before. Didn't look like I had a choice now.
"You look nice," Dad said, looking up from his cup of coffee when I entered the dining room. Our farm table looked out of place in the large, ornate room, but seeing its scarred surface was comforting. A small piece of home.
"I look like an extra in a Britney Spears' music video. Or a porn star." I pointed at my legs. "Knee high socks, really?"
"I'm ignoring the word porn coming out of my daughter's mouth, and it gets cold here. You'll be grateful for those come winter. Heck," he looked out the window. Gray skies and blustery winds. "You'll be grateful for them today."
"You know what else keeps you warm? Pants. Pants keep you warm, Dad."
He smiled, and some of the tension leaked out of the room. As much as I didn't want to be in a foreign country, I also didn't want to spend the next two years at war with my father. We'd been best friends once, and I hoped we could find our way back to that.
"Maybe you can lead the way for reform," he suggested, passing the milk. "No one questions the uniforms because no one has been anywhere but here."
"I seriously doubt that. I mean, this place is isolated, but it's only a ferry ride away to a bigger island, and that's just a ferry ride away from the mainland. I'd travel all the time if I was this close to Europe."
My father made a noncommittal grunt and shoveled a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. Following his lead, we finished breakfast in silence, but it was a pleasant quiet for a change. We gathered up our few dishes and put them in the sink. When I started to run hot water to wash them, Dad stopped me.
"Don't worry about it. Molly'll be over later in the day, and I don't want you to be late for yer first day of school."
"Molly?"
"She's the housekeeper. Yer bookbag is by the door."
I stuffed my feet into my boots and threw my auburn hair into a messy bun atop my head. "We have a housekeeper now? Is she the one who got the house ready for us?"
"One and the same," he said. "She'll be doing a lot of the cooking for us as well. Mrs. Rose recommended her."
We piled into the truck and headed towards town. I drummed my fingers on my bag nervously, peeking at my reflection in the mirror from time to time. What I saw there didn't reassure me- my face echoed my inner turmoil for all the world to see.
"You'll be fine pumpkin," Dad promised, tugging on a wayward curl the way he did when I was little. "The kids are excited to meet you."
"I don't think it's the kind of excited you're suggesting."
"And just what kind of excited do you think it is?"
"It's not the we can't wait to know this girl kind. I'm just a zoo animal to these people. Something strange and new, but once that wears off, I'm going to be the weird girl who doesn't fit in."
"I doubt it. They've been waiting a long time for you." He coughed. "What I mean is that if the kids are anything like they were when I went to school, they're going to love you. We always wished for new folks to come in."
He took a turn just before we entered the main stretch before reaching town. This road swept around the city, heading down to the beach. I tried to think about the direction we'd traveled, admittedly, not my strongest gift, but after a few seconds, I determined this wasn't the beach I could see from my tower. That beach had been surrounded by wild lands, not a building in sight.
"There she is. Merrow Island Academy," Dad said proudly.
"Our house is bigger." And it was. The school looked like a sprawling farmhouse and was constructed from the same stone as every other building I'd seen. With all the rain, it made sense to use as little wood as possible, but I was beginning to think I'd never seen any other color but gray and green again.
"It once belonged to a wealthy, merchant family that settled here in the early 1700's. Around the same time the Hallorans arrived. Due to some unfortunate circumstances, they left the Island, and the house was converted into a school."
A mother with twin girls waved hello as she ushered them into the building, but beyond that, we were the only ones arriving. I checked the time to make sure we weren't late and frowned. "Dad, did you not check what time school started? We're super early."
"What are you talking about? It's 7:15. School starts at 7:40. You'll be lucky to get to your first class on time once we get done in the office."
"Dad," I groaned. "School starts at 8 A.M. here. It's 7:40 back at home. I could've slept another twenty minutes."
"Sorry, pumpkin. This is better anyways. Now you'll have time to get settled in."
"Joy," I muttered as we stepped into the office, my single word drowned out by a loud squeal.
"Dylan Halloran, as I live and breathe!"
"Why Mrs. Walsh, you don't look a day older than when I left," Dad said, accepting a hug from the tallest elderly woman I'd ever met. She had to be over six foot tall, and her legs were as wide as tree stumps.
"I'd heard you were coming back and bringing yer child with you. So glad we are to have you back," she continued in a high pitched voice completely at odds with her stature. She straightened the rimless glasses on her face and peered at me. "Ah, a lass. Finally. You'll be here to get yer schedule."
"Yes ma'am. Thank you."
She bustled behind a polished desk and grabbed a manila folder with my name scrawled across it. Dad wandered about the room, picking up photos and setting them back down with wistful sighs. "You'll be an S6. It's a small group, mind you, but all the better to get settled in."
"S6. Got it." I pulled out the small stack of papers in the envelope. Some were flyers for various events, but one was a schedule for the day. "English, Mathematics, History, and Music today. Tomorrow is Biology, P.E., Computing, and Chemistry. Yuck."
Mrs. Walsh grinned. "These are for our most advanced students. Many don't move beyond their S5 year, so the curriculum will be tougher. But yer father assured us that you were an excellent student."
"I'm sure this won't be a problem. I enjoy school. I intend to go to Vanderbilt after graduating."
"Oh..." she shot a concerned glance in my father's direction before reconstructing her mouth into a semblance of her previous smile. "That's nice that you've made plans dear. Yer first class will be with Mr. Campbell. It's up the stairs on the left and the first room on the right. From there, you can just follow yer classmates. You will all remain together."
"Thank you Mrs. Walsh," Dad said. "You think you'll be able to find it ok?"
"Yeah. I should be fine." I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and hoped he didn't hear the water churning in my bowels. "I'm here to learn anyways, right?"
"Right." He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "But it's okay to make a few friends."
"Hopefully, they're not all taken. Will you be here to pick me up? Class lets out at 3."
"Yeah, I'll be here. You can take the truck from here on out; I've got your granda's old bike that I can use to get around when it's nice."
"So you're going to become a hermit? Because I've yet to see the sun since we moved here. See you at 3."
"See you," he said and went through the doors faster than I would've liked. Just like that, I felt five years old again, watching my parents drive off while I cried.
Getting my schedule had only taken a few minutes, and classes wouldn't start for another thirty. Fighting back a sniffle, I located the stairs, glad Mrs. Walsh had pointed out that my stairs were on the left. The school was split into two wings, and from the bright colors and drawings on the wall by the other stairs, I assumed that was where the younger children attended classes.
The stairs squeaked as I ascended.. A long corridor, windowless and lit by a single, flickering bulb, stretched out before me. The doors had been removed from what I assumed were once bedrooms, and the one Mrs. Walsh had directed me to was filled with natural light and two sets of three rows of tables. Each table was large enough for two to share.
There were no names at any of the desks, so I took the middle table closest to a window where I could see the waves break on the shore. The gentle rhythm of the ocean soothed the nerves fluttering in my stomach, and I had the strangest desire to be back in my tower, floating in the heated water while staring out across the island. It didn't make any sense; I'd never been particularly drawn to the ocean before.
I pulled out a notebook and pen and set them on the table while peering around the room. Much of it was just like any other classroom, but a large, iron stove took up the corner next to the teacher's desk. Right now, it was an empty husk, but the room carried the faint scent of burning wood. Perhaps, Mr. Campbell had spent the day before in his classroom, preparing materials for his new students. I shivered and pulled my blue cardigan tight. Hopefully, he'd light it as soon as he arrived.
Downstairs a door opened and shut, and the tell tell squeak of the stairs alerted me to the arrival of a new person. Swallowing hard, I tried not to stare at the door as I remembered the wide, fearful look of the girl in the rear view mirror this morning. No point in making people think I was crazy.
"So I told her I'd sneak out before her dad woke up, but I fell asleep."
"And chaos ensued?"
Both speakers were male, but it was the latter that made the hairs on my arm rise beneath my sleeves. It was a paradox. The accent of the Islanders was present, but the lyrical notes were deep and raspy, like a thrashing sea beneath moonlight. Licking my lips, I contemplated pulling my hair down, wanting to present a better picture to the owner of that divine voice, but I knew better. The humidity and hair band would have done a number on my wild hair. Best to leave it up.
"Oi, look. Hello."
"Hello."
They hung in the doorway. Both in possession of the lanky forms that comes with a sudden growth spurt, lean muscle pushed against the white material of their shirts. The one touting his romantic adventures curved his lips into a welcoming smile and sauntered across the room. Pulling out the chair in front of me, he flipped it around and sat, leaning forward until the top edge pressed against my table.
"And just who are you?"
Scooting back to reclaim my personal space, I cut my eyes at his friend who was leisurely making his way across the room. His dark brown hair was tousled from the wind, and he'd left his green plaid, tie loose. But for his blase demeanor, there was a burning intensity in his hazel eyes as they met mine.
"Is that how you greet people over here? Just asking so I can make sure I'm doing it right."
"Yer American," he crowed, black eyes flashing with delight as he rubbed his hand across his buzzed head.
"You knew the Hallorans were back," the other boy said, leaning against a desk with his arms crossed over his chest. "But yer a girl."
"Everyone seems to be really surprised by that fact," I complained. "Sorry to disappoint you all."
"No one here said they were disappointed love."
Even as his sensual voice sent heat to places that made me squirm, I glared before turning my attention to the Don Juan in front of me. "You going to finish your story?"
"My story?" Thick brows drew down. "I'm not following."
"You were telling a charming tale about getting caught during a hookup."
"You heard that?" A blush spread across his dark skin. "Forget every word. I'm Alban but call me Al."
"Hello, Al," I replied, taking his offered hand. The embarrassment softened my ire towards him. "I'm Isla."
"This sullen lad over here is Kieran Murphy."
"Murphy... You're Siobhan's son?"
Kieran fidgeted. "You met my mum? She never mentioned it."
I thought of the familiar way our parents had greeted one another and wondered if Kieran knew about their history. Or if there was a Mr. Murphy at home who would keep their friendship from progressing farther.
"When we came in. She was in town."
"His mum makes the best scones on the entire Island. You'll have to stop by there some time and get one. Perhaps it can be my treat. A welcome to the Island?"
"Alright, enough of that," Kieran growled, pushing his curls out of his eyes as he slammed his bag into the chair beside Al. "You've already got enough girls to keep up with. Don't be a greedy bastard."
Al tipped the chair forward again. "He's just jealous that all the women around here prefer my charming good looks to his broody intellect. They get enough broody with the weather."
A wicked glint flashed in Kieran's eyes and he pushed my table towards me, causing his friend to lose balance. Al screeched as he went down, and I jumped up to make sure he was okay as two new students filtered into the room.
"Ach, what are those two up to now?" A petite girl in yellow plaid demanded. She had a ribbon matching her skirt wound through her tight, ebony curls. It was then that I realized our uniforms were all in different colors. "Is that my daft brother lying on the floor?"
"Tara, shut yer mouth," Al snapped, righting his chair and slapping Kieran across the back of his head. His next words were directed at Kieran, You're a radge."
"Back at ya, mate," Kieran said, setting up his notebook and pens much like I had. And I'll be damned if it didn't make my nerdy heart pitter patter.
"Hello," Tara said, dropping into the seat beside me. She practically wiggled with excitement as she turned to speak to me. "I'm assuming yer the new Halloran?"
"Yes," I said, dropping my cheek into my palm and tapping my pen on the desktop. This was going to be a very long day if every conversation started this way. But in a way, it reminded me of small town southern life- only before, I'd been the one in the know.
"Yer a-"
"Girl. Yes, a surprise to me too, but I'm afraid there's nothing to be done about it at this time. I'm Isla."
"I thought I warned you to leave."
I looked over my shoulder to see Leslie scowling in the row behind us. Her face was even more pale in the natural light, and her hair was still pulled back in the same tight bun. "Hello again."
"Leslie, don't be a radge with the new girl. We never get them, and we don't want to run her off."
"It's fine," I said, waving away her concerns. There was something about the strange girl that drew me in, but she just shook her head in disgust and began to draw in a notebook. I was effectively dismissed.
Three more students came into the room. Two were obviously curious, but they took seats on the front row and began to whisper among themselves. "That's Katie and Shannon. They're cousins. They live in the highlands, not far from Halloran Manor actually. But my goodness at the airs they put on because they don't live in town. Ach. Stay away from them."
"Tara, if anyone is a snob, it's you."
I looked up at the girl standing next to our table. Chestnut hair without a hint of frizz hung in well crafted curls down her back, and her lavender skirt was inches shorter than everyone else's. I also found myself wanting to cover my eyes for fear the middle button of her top might pop off when she took a deep breath.
"Isla, meet Niko. She's Shannon's oops sister."
My breath caught in my chest, but Niko just threw her hair over her shoulder and nodded. "True. Our dad has a thing for tourists, and well, voila. Here I am."
Shannon stopped whispering and looked over at us. "We're just lucky he can't make any more fabulous oopses." She moved her fingers like scissors before returning back to her conversation.
"Alright, class. Everyone in their seats." A bell rang as a portly gentleman waddled into the room, his arms filled with books and bags. He scanned the room, stopping on me. "All the usual suspects, and a new face. You must be Isla Halloran."
"Yes sir," I answered, thankful when he didn't express shock over my gender.
He grunted but said nothing else as he bent over to start a fire. My numb fingers tingled in anticipation. Tara chatted across the aisle with Niko, their friendliness surprising given their manner of greeting.
"You'll get used to it."
I jumped when Kieran's voice intruded on my musings. "I'll get used to what?" It was hard to meet him in the eye when I spoke, but I forced my chin to remain lifted as I waited for his answer.
"The way we treat each other. When you've known everyone as long as we have, it's easy to go for the soft spots."
"It doesn't have to be like that, though," I countered, thinking of my father and the wounded look on his face every time I threw my mother in his face. Was it our fate to fight like this and call it normal?
He turned his head to the side, a deep dimple appearing in his left cheek as he smirked. "Guess, we'll have to see what you can do to change that."