Divine

Old Wiccham is the sort of sleepy farming town where nothing ever happens.

Perched on the banks of the Black Raven River, Old Wic as its affectionately known is lined with picturesque peach and cherry orchards. Burnt, green fields and tall, yellow peaks scatter the horizon, daintily dotted with modest houses for the 5,000 strong population. The sight was as familiar to me as the formation of freckles on my wrist, and the early morning greens and golds stretched out under the crisp sky as I kicked a pebble down the road.

As I walked through the town centre (if you could call it that), I noticed it was still dominated by the courthouse which stood in the middle of the square, lined by redbrick buildings and topped with a looming clock tower. I remembered fondly how the green heart of the square was sometimes occupied by the locally famous fruit and flower market, where neighbours and old friends meet to discuss town gossip. I'd gone there with Mom more than a few times.

There were a few differences. The sweet shop I'd always loved had been replaced by a café and the bus depot had been modernised and covered over. But other than that, it seemed like time had stood still in this uneventful town. Uneventful except of course for the fact that I was born here, which although important to me probably wasn't much of a big deal for the rest of the world.

I continued my journey through the town, following but not joining the groups of teenagers who were all drifting in the same general direction.

If you’re a teenager in Old Wiccham, like I am, you attend Old Wiccham High. A stout, no-frills building on the outskirts of the centre and home to the Wiccham Wolves football team. After picking up the pace slightly it was this very building that I found myself standing in front of now.

I remembered it vividly from my childhood. Dad would point at it and tell me I would go there one day, like he had before me, and like my grandfather had before him. I'd nodded excitedly, hopeful and enthusiastic for the future laid ahead of me.

I was nervous now, noticing the eyes on me as I walked through the small parking lot towards the main office where I was due to report for my first day. I guess its not very normal for someone to start at Old Wiccham High as a Junior in this small town, everyone in my grade will have been here two years already. This certainly wasn't how I had pictured my first day here, all those years ago when I had stood in front of it with my father.

I stopped just before I reached the office, taking a moment to check my reflection in the window just outside to give myself a quick once over. My sandy blonde hair fell in loose, unruly waves around my face which, although I was doing my best to seem calm and confident, betrayed my nerves. Maybe I should have tied my hair up or tried to do something with it. Perhaps I should have worn something other than my plain t-shirt and jeans. I instinctively touched the large silver cross that sat on my throat with my fingertips and took a deep breath. Be brave, Rhe-Rhe.

I burst through the doors of the office, my eyes taking a second to adjust to the contrast of the darkness in here with the lightness of the bright late August morning outside. Stepping forward, I fixed a broad smile on my lips and greeted the fat, serious looking woman at the desk. Fake it till you make it, I thought to myself glibly.

“Hi, I’m Rhea Fairchild! Its my first day!” I said as brightly as I could muster while I slipped my satchel off my shoulder to get my paperwork.

The woman looked me up and down over her horn-rimmed glasses, silently reaching forward to accept my papers. The frosty welcome jarred me slightly but I kept the smile fixed on my face.

Whilst the unfriendly receptionist looked through my forms I took the opportunity to gaze around the humble main office, lit only by the light spilling from the door and a few, dim yellow overhead lamps. A placard on the front of the desk told me the woman I was speaking to was Ms Bufo, the office manager. I also noticed a healthily stocked trophy cabinet in the corner lined with a few blue and white flags - the colour of the school’s football team. A snorting sound brought my attention back to the receptionist who was thrusting a school handbook towards me over the desk.

“You’re nearly late,” Ms Bufo said, her voice nasal and dripping with phlegm.

My smile faltered. I was definitely told to be here in time for my first class starting at 8:10 and it was only 8:05. I nearly opened my mouth to argue but decided it was probably best not to so instead I looked down at the handbook I had taken to see my personalised timetable and a map stapled to the inside cover. Other bits of paper with random bits of information had been stuffed inside.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Ms Bufo continued, her eyes bulging with annoyance, “You need to go right now.”

I thought I would at least have an induction or a fellow student to shadow considering this was my first day, but I decided to swallow my concerns and maintain my initial positivity, fake or not. The school looked small enough according to this map. I would just have to find my own way around. I'll learn quicker, I told myself, fixing a smile back onto my face.

Still slightly reeling from my encounter with someone from the school where I was due to spend the next two years, I stumbled towards the quad, guided only by the small, badly printed map which was clumsily fixed onto the inside cover of my handbook. Surely not everyone at this school would be so cold, I just needed to meet more people. Which of course, I would. Every teenager in town went to this school. All the people I had gone to elementary school with would be here in this building somewhere. The thought of it caused my stomach to flutter uncomfortably.

I was so lost in my thoughts and my anxiety to get to my first lesson on time I didn’t notice the boy walking in front of me until I ran right into his back.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, dropping my handbook, scattering the paperwork which had been placed between its pages across the brick floor.

We both dropped to our knees, eagerly scooping up the bits of paper which had been carried across the path by the small breeze. I apologised again as we both straightened up, gratefully accepting the wad he’d managed to salvage.

“Its honestly okay,” he said smiling, his grey eyes glinting with humour at how flustered I must look, “You must be new. I’ve never seen you before.”

“Guilty! I’m Rhea,” I stuffed my papers under my armpit and thrust my hand forward to shake his. He lodged a skateboard under his arm to take it, smiling at my formal and awkward gesture.

“Nice to meet you, Rhea. I’m Ben.”

Ben’s eyes sparkled good-naturedly under his mop of curly, brown hair and beanie hat, and he gave me a cute, lop sided grin. I could hear some tinny music playing out of the headphones slung around his neck and had an urge to ask him what it was. He seemed warm and welcoming - unlike Ms Bufo.

“Are you looking for somewhere? Do you need help?” he asked, referring to my bundle of papers.

“Yes, please!” I gratefully accepted the help, glad that not everyone at this school seemed to automatically hate me.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that I was well on my way to my first lesson, just a few paces away. Maybe my map reading skills were not as bad as I thought. Either way, I'm taking this as a small victory.

“Thanks so much,” I smiled warmly at my first official friend, “See you around I hope!”

“I hope so too,” he returned my smile before replacing his headphones and walking in the opposite direction.

Here goes nothing. I fixed my eyes onto my destination with determination as I forced myself to step forward. My first lesson was American History, a subject I know plenty about. Nothing to be scared of here.

I filed through the doors with my fellow students, all of whom were locked in eager conversation with friends who they maybe hadn’t seen all summer. I heard snatches of warm and familiar conversation and hoped that some time soon I could be one of them. Jabbering about the upcoming dance or exams, without a care in the world.

My classroom was clearly marked so I allowed myself a small, celebratory moment for making it on time despite the unhelpful start before slipping through the doorway and into the brightly lit classroom.

“Um, hi! I’m Rhea Fairchild,” I started, moving towards the teacher at the front of the room. He looked tall and stern and rather intimidating. I briefly wondered if I’d get along with any of the staff at this school, “This is my first day," I added , almost apologetically.

To my surprise, the teacher’s face cracked into a warm smile as soon as his eyes fell upon me, “Rhea, welcome! I’m Mr Caldeiro. Take a seat anywhere. They’re a friendly bunch, I promise.”

Heartened by the warm welcome of my new history teacher, I bowed my head graciously and turned to survey the available options. My eyes met almost immediately with the familiar deep blue hues of eyes so familiar but now so strange that it made my stomach drop and my heart ache. I knew I would bump into him eventually but I had no idea that it would be in my very first lesson. Without thinking, I sprang forward as if magnetically attracted.

“Aaron!” I cried breathlessly, stopping just before him, clutching onto the straps of my backpack, almost as if to stop myself from throwing my arms around his neck.

Aaron Tempest was my best friend growing up, before I left Old Wiccham for what I thought would be forever. The years I had spent with him had been wild and carefree, climbing cherry trees and wading in the ponds down by the river capturing tadpoles. We grew up on the same street, went to the same school, our parents had even joked that one day we would get married.

In short, we were inseparable. Until we weren’t.

Aaron’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at me. He was definitely a lot taller than he was last time I saw him, but he still had the same dark, blue eyes that I remembered so well. His hair was a slightly darker brown and tamer than it had been as a boy but there was no mistaking that it was him.

“Rhea?” he replied, the questioning in his tone betraying his uncertainty.

“Yes!” I exclaimed. I was unable to stop myself any longer and launched myself forward to clutch him in an embrace, which wasn't easy considering there was probably about a foot in height difference. I actually just ended up with my face pressed against his chest. I could smell the fresh linen scent on his clothes and the zest of his cologne. My new classmates were probably watching me and thinking I'm a weirdo, but this was the moment I had been looking forward to ever since arriving back in my hometown a week ago. God, had it really been a week?

“Wow its been what...eight years?” Aaron awkwardly patted me on my backpack before stepping back to look at me, a tentative smile flickering across his face.

“Has it really? Yeah, I guess so. Feels like yesterday though, huh?”

I gazed up at him, sure that my brown eyes would be wide and shining. He really did look so different. He must be more than six foot now with broad shoulders which tapered down into a slim waist and his round baby face had been replaced with a strong, angular jaw. His expression was the thing that had changed the most though. He was usually so pleased to see me but now it was something different that I couldn’t place. Reservation. Confusion. Maybe even suspicion?

“Kinda felt like eight years to me,” he said, massaging the back of his neck with his hand, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m back,” I replied gaily, trying to shake off the slightly cool reception, “I’ve come back home.”

“Take your seats, please,” Mr Caldeiro called from the front.

“Can we catch up at lunch?” I asked him hopefully, my smile faltering a little. I’d been so excited to see my old friend but maybe I had got it all wrong.

Aaron, perhaps sensing my hesitance and feeling bad for his iciness, finally shot me the broad grin I had missed so much. His teeth were a lot straighter than I remembered but his smile was familiar enough to fill my heart with relief, “Of course,” he replied.

I scrambled to an empty seat and did my best to concentrate but I was already giddy from the day’s events, and it wasn’t even 9am.

* * * * *

When the bell rang, I panicked slightly as I fumbled around with my workbook to try to find the location of my next class. Much to my relief, Mr Caldeiro must have seen my strife and so beckoned me to the front of the class to offer his assistance.

“First day, huh?” he asked, pushing his half moon glasses up his long, crooked nose, “Nerve wracking stuff!”

He looked in his early forties, his face was handsome in a distinguished way with large, noble features. His bow tie and purple socks indicated a quirky nature.

“Yeah,” I sighed, unable to stop myself from following Aaron with my eyes as he left the room.

“I’m sure you’ll get settled in no time. Especially considering you already have friends here...?” The question in Mr Caldeiro’s voice was clearly referring to Aaron who I was still staring forlornly after. I snapped her attention back to my teacher.

“We used to be friends,” I said solemnly, “I hope we will be again.”

Mr Caldeiro smiled and gave me instructions on how to get to my next class, luckily it was just down the hall.

I plastered my fake smile back onto my face as I made my way there. One hour down, only six more to go. High school was going to be a piece of cake, I told myself. Especially now that I had found Aaron.