Wolfe, Larke, and Fawne (Haven't really come up with a title for this, but I know the general direction of the story.)
The door opened, and a pale-skinned girl looked in. The teacher, a middle-aged woman with fading blonde hair, paused in the grading of papers and looked at her. "Can I help you?"
"Um... Are you," she paused, glancing at the paper in her hand, "Mrs. Peters, English three?" She looked at all the students who were watching her avidly and already beginning to whisper to each other.
"Yes, I am, and this is. I assume you are one of my three new students?"
She looked behind her before stepping out and holding the door open. Two other people, a tall boy and another girl entered the room before her. Mrs. Peters stood and crossed the room. "Introduce yourselves," she said and began picking papers off the table by the door.
The boy glanced down at his sisters, and rubbed his ear through his battered burgundy beanie. His black hair was visible on one side of his beanie, and he was wearing a thin grey shirt, and light blue jeans. "I'm Wolfe." he said shortly.
The pale-skinned girl who first appeared also had long, black hair, tied in a high pony-tail, with long bangs tucked behind her ears. She was wearing a dark blue mini dress with a floral pattern, and faded gray tights, with duct-taped boots with broken laces. "I'm Larke," she said clearly. The third girl was a pale blonde, wearing a light blue and white tie-dyed maxi skirt that hid her feet, and a worn black Henley shirt beneath a gray pinstripe vest. Larke gently touched her shoulder, and said, "This is our sister Fawne."
"Can she not introduce herself?" Mrs. Peters asked, handing each of them a set of papers, looking at Fawne.
Fawne glanced at her with wide blue eyes before looking to her siblings. "She doesn't talk. She can't. Physically." Wolfe said flipping through his papers. "Can we sit?"
"The three seats there, yes. Please take your hat off." she went back to her desk, "Class, you can talk quietly. Anybody who does not have the assignment done by the end of class can stay and finish during break."
They went to sit, Fawne at the seat in-between Larke and Wolfe. "Can I leave my hat on? My hair isn't really presentable right now." Wolfe asked as he pulled two pens out of his pocket and passed one back to Fawne.
"No. Class rule." Wolfe sighed, and pulled his beanie off. The class let out a noise as the whispering reached a crescendo.
"Dude! What is up with your head?" a boy wearing a dark green lettermen jacket said loudly. It was echoed around the room. Larke laughed quietly and took a comb out of her small, handmade-looking drawstring bag. She passed it to Fawne along with a hair tie, who stood and began combing back Wolfe's hair.
"I have a mohawk. Didn't get a chance to unpack my hair stuff. It takes a long time to do a mohawk, you know. Thanks," he said to Fawne when she tied off his hair, "It takes hours to make it look good."
"Why do people have Mohawks? They make you look like a stupid punk." the kid was looking at him like he was crazy.
“Mine is a statement. A form of protest.” He hunched forward and began working the first page of the assignment. “Me and about twenty other people did it to protest… something that happened back home. We painted the message on our hawks.” By now there was only a few other people actually working other then the three new kids; the rest were watching them and talking.
“There were actually more. A lot more, just did fohawks, or tardhawks… And more people were online." Larke paused, and reached back to touch her hair. "My fohawk was really big..."
Conversations died down to a hum of whispering as the new kids just silently settled into working. Mrs. Peters watched them curiously for the rest of class, noting that a few times Fawne looked to get very stiff, and Larke would slowly rub her fingers along her back, not even seeming to notice she was doing it. And then Fawne would shakily reach her hand out to rest her fingertips alone on her brothers back. He didn't really react, except Mrs. Peters saw his hand clench, and he squeezed his eyes shut. After a few minutes, her hand would drop, her sister's hand would retreat back to her lap.
It happened three times in the hour of class they were there. When the bell rang, Fawne jumped, and the three of them waited while the rest of the class hurriedly packed and turned in the assignment. As the last students left, Wolfe came up and deposited all three assignments on her desk. "Wolfe." He stopped and looked at her, a look of expectation on his face. "May I ask what happened to your sister?"
He glanced back toward his sisters, and he sighed. "Yes. But all I will say it was bad enough that our parents home-schooled the three of us until she could stand to be around people. And it was the reason we moved." His dark eyes carried too much pain and sadness for a teenage boy.
"Did it cost her her voice?" the concern in Mrs. Peters' voice was the only reason he answered.
"Yes." And he walked away, leaving the room. Larke and Fawne fell into step behind him, holding hands.
#
Mrs. Rose Peters took pride in the fact that many more students came to her when they had problems, whether they were at home or school, then they did the school's counselor. She knew she was perceptive, and always offered help.
So when, later that day as she watched over the students getting into cars, and walking off campus, she saw a silently sobbing Fawne clinging onto Larke, she knew she had to help. She did not see their brother, but they were heading into the student parking lot. Larke was clutching Fawne under her arm tightly, walking quickly toward whichever car was theirs.
Mrs. Peters speedily glanced around at all the other students, who didn't seem to have noticed the sobbing student, and for Wolfe. Then she started making her way to the girls. She was almost caught up when Fawne collapsed against an older grey SUV. Larke started to attempt to unlock the door when Fawne started to gasp for breath, and Larke dropped the keys to wrap her sister in her arms, saying, "Breathe, Fawne. Breathe, he won't do it again. Wolfe will make sure, he'll protect you. Breathe honey..." Her voice got quieter but she kept talking, trying to calm her sister down.
Mrs. Peters quietly came and picked up the keys, unlocking the passenger side door. Larke's head whipped around fast enough for it to probably hurt at the sound of the door opening. Mrs. Peters opened the door and stood back.
"Come on honey, let's get you into the car. Wolfe will be here any minute, okay?" Fawne nodded her head frantically. "Deep breaths. Think of your art. Think of grandma's vanilla chocolate chip cookies. Of that meadow with that creek where we used go as kids." Fawne's breath calmed and she closed her eyes, but waved at her sister to keep going. Larke smiled slightly. "Remember that ridiculously preppy cheerleader who kept trying to get Wolfe to go out with her? Or that guy who thought the way to get me was to give me jewelry and whatever purse he gave me..." Larke laughed quietly. "Think of the big window in the attic of our new house. All the rooms Mom and Dad gave you to design and decorate..."
Mrs. Peters silently watched, endlessly wondering what had happened, before and now to cause this reaction. Wolfe suddenly swooped in behind Larke, rubbing her back and asking, "Fawne, sweetie, are you okay?" He waited until Fawne nodded her head then said quietly to Larke, "He won't do it again. And he won't tell people about her reaction, but he'll tell them to lay off." Wolfe then turned and looked at Mrs. Peters. "Can we help you?"
She looked at him, and looked at his sisters before practically whispering, "I was going to offer to help you." His eyes stayed on her as he opened the door to the backseat for Larke to climb in, and when he shut both doors. He said nothing as he crossed the front of the car to the drivers side and opened his door.
"We're fine," and he started the car, pulled out of the space, and drove off.
Rose watched the SUV, stunned, and more curious then ever about the three siblings.
"Um... Are you," she paused, glancing at the paper in her hand, "Mrs. Peters, English three?" She looked at all the students who were watching her avidly and already beginning to whisper to each other.
"Yes, I am, and this is. I assume you are one of my three new students?"
She looked behind her before stepping out and holding the door open. Two other people, a tall boy and another girl entered the room before her. Mrs. Peters stood and crossed the room. "Introduce yourselves," she said and began picking papers off the table by the door.
The boy glanced down at his sisters, and rubbed his ear through his battered burgundy beanie. His black hair was visible on one side of his beanie, and he was wearing a thin grey shirt, and light blue jeans. "I'm Wolfe." he said shortly.
The pale-skinned girl who first appeared also had long, black hair, tied in a high pony-tail, with long bangs tucked behind her ears. She was wearing a dark blue mini dress with a floral pattern, and faded gray tights, with duct-taped boots with broken laces. "I'm Larke," she said clearly. The third girl was a pale blonde, wearing a light blue and white tie-dyed maxi skirt that hid her feet, and a worn black Henley shirt beneath a gray pinstripe vest. Larke gently touched her shoulder, and said, "This is our sister Fawne."
"Can she not introduce herself?" Mrs. Peters asked, handing each of them a set of papers, looking at Fawne.
Fawne glanced at her with wide blue eyes before looking to her siblings. "She doesn't talk. She can't. Physically." Wolfe said flipping through his papers. "Can we sit?"
"The three seats there, yes. Please take your hat off." she went back to her desk, "Class, you can talk quietly. Anybody who does not have the assignment done by the end of class can stay and finish during break."
They went to sit, Fawne at the seat in-between Larke and Wolfe. "Can I leave my hat on? My hair isn't really presentable right now." Wolfe asked as he pulled two pens out of his pocket and passed one back to Fawne.
"No. Class rule." Wolfe sighed, and pulled his beanie off. The class let out a noise as the whispering reached a crescendo.
"Dude! What is up with your head?" a boy wearing a dark green lettermen jacket said loudly. It was echoed around the room. Larke laughed quietly and took a comb out of her small, handmade-looking drawstring bag. She passed it to Fawne along with a hair tie, who stood and began combing back Wolfe's hair.
"I have a mohawk. Didn't get a chance to unpack my hair stuff. It takes a long time to do a mohawk, you know. Thanks," he said to Fawne when she tied off his hair, "It takes hours to make it look good."
"Why do people have Mohawks? They make you look like a stupid punk." the kid was looking at him like he was crazy.
“Mine is a statement. A form of protest.” He hunched forward and began working the first page of the assignment. “Me and about twenty other people did it to protest… something that happened back home. We painted the message on our hawks.” By now there was only a few other people actually working other then the three new kids; the rest were watching them and talking.
“There were actually more. A lot more, just did fohawks, or tardhawks… And more people were online." Larke paused, and reached back to touch her hair. "My fohawk was really big..."
Conversations died down to a hum of whispering as the new kids just silently settled into working. Mrs. Peters watched them curiously for the rest of class, noting that a few times Fawne looked to get very stiff, and Larke would slowly rub her fingers along her back, not even seeming to notice she was doing it. And then Fawne would shakily reach her hand out to rest her fingertips alone on her brothers back. He didn't really react, except Mrs. Peters saw his hand clench, and he squeezed his eyes shut. After a few minutes, her hand would drop, her sister's hand would retreat back to her lap.
It happened three times in the hour of class they were there. When the bell rang, Fawne jumped, and the three of them waited while the rest of the class hurriedly packed and turned in the assignment. As the last students left, Wolfe came up and deposited all three assignments on her desk. "Wolfe." He stopped and looked at her, a look of expectation on his face. "May I ask what happened to your sister?"
He glanced back toward his sisters, and he sighed. "Yes. But all I will say it was bad enough that our parents home-schooled the three of us until she could stand to be around people. And it was the reason we moved." His dark eyes carried too much pain and sadness for a teenage boy.
"Did it cost her her voice?" the concern in Mrs. Peters' voice was the only reason he answered.
"Yes." And he walked away, leaving the room. Larke and Fawne fell into step behind him, holding hands.
#
Mrs. Rose Peters took pride in the fact that many more students came to her when they had problems, whether they were at home or school, then they did the school's counselor. She knew she was perceptive, and always offered help.
So when, later that day as she watched over the students getting into cars, and walking off campus, she saw a silently sobbing Fawne clinging onto Larke, she knew she had to help. She did not see their brother, but they were heading into the student parking lot. Larke was clutching Fawne under her arm tightly, walking quickly toward whichever car was theirs.
Mrs. Peters speedily glanced around at all the other students, who didn't seem to have noticed the sobbing student, and for Wolfe. Then she started making her way to the girls. She was almost caught up when Fawne collapsed against an older grey SUV. Larke started to attempt to unlock the door when Fawne started to gasp for breath, and Larke dropped the keys to wrap her sister in her arms, saying, "Breathe, Fawne. Breathe, he won't do it again. Wolfe will make sure, he'll protect you. Breathe honey..." Her voice got quieter but she kept talking, trying to calm her sister down.
Mrs. Peters quietly came and picked up the keys, unlocking the passenger side door. Larke's head whipped around fast enough for it to probably hurt at the sound of the door opening. Mrs. Peters opened the door and stood back.
"Come on honey, let's get you into the car. Wolfe will be here any minute, okay?" Fawne nodded her head frantically. "Deep breaths. Think of your art. Think of grandma's vanilla chocolate chip cookies. Of that meadow with that creek where we used go as kids." Fawne's breath calmed and she closed her eyes, but waved at her sister to keep going. Larke smiled slightly. "Remember that ridiculously preppy cheerleader who kept trying to get Wolfe to go out with her? Or that guy who thought the way to get me was to give me jewelry and whatever purse he gave me..." Larke laughed quietly. "Think of the big window in the attic of our new house. All the rooms Mom and Dad gave you to design and decorate..."
Mrs. Peters silently watched, endlessly wondering what had happened, before and now to cause this reaction. Wolfe suddenly swooped in behind Larke, rubbing her back and asking, "Fawne, sweetie, are you okay?" He waited until Fawne nodded her head then said quietly to Larke, "He won't do it again. And he won't tell people about her reaction, but he'll tell them to lay off." Wolfe then turned and looked at Mrs. Peters. "Can we help you?"
She looked at him, and looked at his sisters before practically whispering, "I was going to offer to help you." His eyes stayed on her as he opened the door to the backseat for Larke to climb in, and when he shut both doors. He said nothing as he crossed the front of the car to the drivers side and opened his door.
"We're fine," and he started the car, pulled out of the space, and drove off.
Rose watched the SUV, stunned, and more curious then ever about the three siblings.