A/N: whoo-hoo, chapter three!  After I wrote this, I realized that I had made this chapter totally focus on Ginny…. Oops.  ^_~   The next chapter will have a mix of Jaime and Ginny, I promise. 

~ Chapter Three ~

Old Acquaintances and Unsettling Revelations

© WindeSprite 2004

     “It’ll never work.”

     “That,” the other man grunted, tugging on his boots, “is what you think.”

     “Tell me something I don’t know.  This plan is crazy—a haphazardly thrown-together expedition at best.”

     “Has any other great discovery started out as more?  The invention of the electron lamp came to be because that dim-witted Taraten stumbled across the essential particles while looking for a rare type of indigo geodes.”  His words were laced with scorn.   “I see no reason why our mission should be any less rewarding.”

     “Because you’re a deluded old fool chasing after some fairy tale!  My grandfather is probably rolling in his grave, seeing me about to embark on a journey based on some man’s say-so—”

     “This ‘fairy tale,’ as you so tactfully put it, has been verified by the Minister as ‘a story ringing of truth without one shred of false evidence.’  The Minister practically admitted to its existence!”

      “The Minister’s an even bigger fool than you are.  Need I remind you that he only made it into office because the former Minister croaked of a heart attack?”  He paused for effect.  “A heart attack which the investigators believe was caused not by natural causes, but by a certain type of drug.”

     “The investigators are always saying stuff like that.  No one can die of natural causes anymore without having a speculated first-degree murder on them.”

     “Unfortunate, isn’t it?”

     “Quite so.”

     “My grandfather always believed that before one claimed anything, they must have hard, solid facts.”

     “Unfortunately for your grandfather, my dear boy,” he said, “the world doesn’t work that way.”

     “What do you mean by that?”

      He studied his partner—the closest thing he’d had to a friend—for a moment and then sighed.  “We’ve been through a lot together, Friend,” he said quietly.  “And I knew this would eventually come up in one of our confusion conversations…”

     “What would?”

     He wouldn’t be forced into answering anything.  But he knew the time had come.  He’d held out for too long—and his friend deserved to know.  Besides, he admitted to himself, if nothing, the truth would only help his marvelous plan.  “Baryns, the time has come for you to know the truth about your grandfather.”

————

     “Ginny—”

     Ginny closed her eyes in exasperation and froze inside her doorframe.  She’d almost made it.  “What?”

     “Virginia Kaigian, do not take that tone with me.”

     She gritted her teeth.  “Yes, Maidre?”

     “I’m going out for a few hours—watch your little sister, all right?”

     “Okay.”  She paused and reluctantly asked, “Where’s Kayla?”

     “In her room doing her homework,” came the answer.  “And speaking of which…”

     “Don’t even say it, Maidre.”

     “Now, Ginny—”

     “Goodbye, Maidre.” Ginny shut the door in her mother’s face.  She didn’t care what the consequences would be.  She needed to get away from her family for a while—and that included Miss Perfect, who was studiously doing her homework.

     She waited until she heard the front door slam to crawl out the window.  There was a fire escape rope ladder hanging from the windowsill—for once she was thankful with her mother’s paranoid personality—and she quickly climbed down it (or as quickly as one could when wearing a long skirt), certain she wasn’t seen. 

      Without really deciding what she would do, she starting walking down the sidewalk along the street.  It was lined with trees, but even with the shade, she was sweating profusely.  Which put her in an even more rotten mod than she was already in.  It had been a horrible day, and she saw no reason to torture herself further by slaving over some useless piece of homework.  And Lûci was old enough to watch herself—she didn’t need a baby-sitter, contrary to Maire’s insistence on the fact.  Besides, why couldn’t Kayla watch Lûci?  No one ever thought of asking Kayla to take on any household duties.  “She’s busy with her work,” Maidre would say, or (this one was her favorite, spoken by her father) “Kayla?  Why would I ask Kayla?  Lûci’s your sister, not hers; you should consider it a privilege to take on the responsibility of another.  Consider it an honor.”

     An honor.  She hadn’t heard that one before.  At least her parents were original with their excuses.

     She plodded along the sidewalk, the white cement reflecting the sun’s rays and nearly blinding her.  “That’s an idea,” she muttered darkly, “get myself blind and wait to be placed in one of those blind institutions.  Then it would be au revoir, evil school, adios, Kayla, and sayonara, unconcerned and judgmental family.”

     Wrapped up in self-pity, she didn’t even notice where she was going.  So when she found herself in a totally unknown part of town, she shrugged with a “what the heck” and made a turn onto a dirt road to see where it went.  Farther down the road, the public access section ended, and past the three wooden posts that marked the end of the road was a smaller dirt path, mostly overgrown with grass and weeds.

     Ginny hesitated a moment before continuing down the path.  If she got lost, so be it.  She was sure her family wouldn’t come after her—maybe she’d live off the land for a few days, like that man she’d read about in history class.  He’d eaten wild berries and herbs, even killed a rabbit and fried it over a fire, which Ginny found repulsive, but she could be a vegetarian for a few days.  Her teacher had said—

     “Why am I thinking about school?” she shouted.  “Heaven’s curses!  Even my thoughts torture me.”  With a surge of emotion she barged down the path full speed ahead, heedless of the branches and leaves that scratched her as she brushed past them.   

      Out of the underbrush, a clearing appeared and in the middle of it ran a small stream, not even large enough to be called a brook, with a rickety plank of wood stretched across it.  Ginny stared at it for a moment, as if she was unconscious that it was there, and then carefully moved across it and sat down, dangling her feet over the edge, the soles of her feet skimming the top of the rushing water.  That was when she noticed she’d forgotten to put on any shoes.  Amused, she glanced down at her feet and thought smugly, Mom will have a fit. 

     She sat there with her feet in the water, thinking about nothing in particular, when she vaguely acknowledged her name being called.  On the fourth time “Ginny!” sounded, she frowned and turned.  There, on the left bank, was her old childhood friend, Anthony Baurtin.  “Ginny,” he said again, sounding amazed, “what are you doing here?”

     Annoyed that her solitude had been disturbed she answered, “I might ask the same of you.  I thought you moved across town last year.”

     “I did.”

     “So what are you doing on my side of town?”

     He laughed incredulously.  “What do you mean?  We’re near my place now.  You’re nearly an hour away from your place.”

     She blinked.  “Really?”

     “Yeah.  My home’s right back there.”  He pointed through the foliage to an old wooden mill, probably used a decade or so ago during the Deprivation.  “Nice, isn’t it?”

     “Sure.”  An hour!  Mom’s probably back by now.  That’s just great.  I’m going to get the whipping of my life when I return…

     Anthony cautiously stepped on the piece of wood and started to make his way across it.  “Mind if I join you?”

     She shrugged.

     He took that as indifferent acceptance and sat down next to her.  “So how’s your life lately?”

     “Must you ask?”

     “That bad?”

     “I’ll leave you to interpret that.”

     “Still at odds with that cousin of yours?”

     “Kayla?  You could say that.”  She snorted.  “Not much has changed since you left.  You’re still at our school, right?”

     “Of course,” he said in surprise.  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

     “Haven’t seen you much these past few weeks.  Veronica was heartbroken.”

     Anthony burst out laughing.  “Same sense of humor, I see?”

     “She was heartbroken—she was in a foul mood and had no one to take her anger out on.”

     He chuckled again, this time wryly.

     They fell silent again until Ginny asked:  “And how’s Life treated you lately?”   

     He smiled.  “You sound like a bitter middle-aged woman.”

     “Thank you.”

     “Don’t mention it.  And I can’t complain.”

     “Wish I could say as much.”

     “Life got you down?”

     “I was never up to begin with.”

     He shot her a look.  “Who upset your pail of milk?”

     Ginny again sighed.  “No one in particular.  School.  Kayla.  The heat.”

     “So—”

     “Virginia Kaigian!” a new voice boomed.  “I thought I heard your voice!”

     Anthony and Ginny’s heads swiveled around in the direction of the other voice.  Ginny groaned.  There, on the edge of the wooden plank, stood Anthony’s twin brother, Taylor.  The two brothers were fraternal twins, and although they looked alike, Ginny never had trouble telling the two apart.  The three of them had been friends when they were young; Anthony and Ginny had been more like brother and sister, but she and Taylor… well, the two of them had been “married” at the age of five.  Ginny regretted that decision when she’d turned six, and now, at fifteen, she regretted it even more.  Taylor was handsome, arrogant, and what her mother would call a ladies’ man.  Every one of her friends, save Lena, fancied themselves in love with him.  Naturally, Ginny hadn’t told them about her former friendship with him.  They’d be begging her to “put in a good word” for them day and night.  Not that her “good word” would matter.  She and Taylor never talked anymore.

     “Don’t call me Virginia,” she said, scowling.

     “My dear Miss Kaigian, is that any way to treat your husband?” Taylor said mockingly as he moved across the plank of wood.  “Or do I have reason to question your fidelity?  My wife and brother alone in the woods?  Not good at all.”

     “We’re very amused, Taylor,” said Ginny sarcastically, standing up and backing up towards her side of the bank.  “I would love to hear some more of your witty jokes, you know I would, but I was just leaving…”

     “No, you weren’t—” Anthony protested.

     “I am now,” she shot back, not looking at Taylor.

     “Virginia Kaigian running away?” Taylor broke in.  “I thought I’d never see the day.” 

     Ginny forced herself not to look at him, keeping her focus on Anthony.  “I really do have to go now.  I wasn’t supposed to be out of the house in the first place.  I’ll see you ’round, Anthony…” She reluctantly raised her eyes to meet Taylor’s and nodded—“Taylor.” 

     Taylor’s frosty blue eyes laughed at her.  She was running away, and he knew it.   His gaze shifted and he commanded: “Walk her home, Tony.”

     “Huh?”

     “Doesn’t a true gentleman always escort a lady home?  I though you, the poet, would have known as much.”

     Anthony flushed and stood, facing his brother.  He was the darker of the two, with midnight blue eyes and wheat colored hair.  Looking at the two of them side by side was like seeing an old and new photograph—one recent, the other faded with time.  “Why don’t you walk her home, Taylor?  She’s your wife,” he added in a clipped tone.

     “You’re absolutely right,” he agreed readily, surprising Ginny, “but alas—I fear she’d enjoy your company more.  Nice seeing you again, Virginia.”  With that, he nodded and disappeared back into the forest.

     Ginny flushed and stared at Taylor’s retreating back.  The guy’s very aura reeked of arrogance.  He was right—she did enjoy Anthony’s company more.  Anthony was everything Taylor was not—considerate, sensible, chivalrous, quiet… what didn’t make any sense was that Taylor’s presence seemed to evoke more emotions in her than Anthony’s did.  She doggedly pushed the annoying thought out of her head.  “Let’s go.”

     “Okay.”  Anthony hesitated a moment, then said, “Do you—want me to walk you home the whole way?”

     “It’s okay if you don’t want to.  I really don’t need an escort at all.  I’m sure Taylor just said that to get a rise out of me.”

     “Probably,” Anthony agreed, falling in step with her as she moved towards the nearly invisible path.  “But I’ll walk you home anyway.”

     “You don’t have to.  I’m sure there’re a million things you want—or need—to do.  And it’s more than an hour trip, remember?  That’s two wasted hours for you.  Go on; I’ll be fine.”

     “Any time spent with you is not wasted,” he protested mildly, “but you’re right: I do have things that need to be done.”  He paused.  “Would you mind too much if I didn’t come with you?”

     “Didn’t I just tell you to go home?  Sometimes you’re too chivalrous for your own good, Tony.”

     He just grinned.  “I’ll see you around, Ginny.  Take care.”

     “Yeah, you too.”  She waved goodbye then proceeded on her way.  In truth, she was rather relieved to have gotten rid of him.  He was good company, yes, but she needed some time to think.  She was still in an awful mood, and she was afraid that she’d snap at Anthony before long and spoil the delicate friendship.  Tony could be a little too sensitive at times—the littlest thing could upset him and cause him to avoid her for the next few days.

     She really didn’t know why she was so upset.  Yeah, it had been a bad day—but not a horrible day…now that she thought about it, all the things that had gone were really trivial matters; but stacked up on top of each other, they seemed big.  She’d forgotten her math homework after struggling to finish it for over an hour the night before; her science teacher had yelled at her for doing a lab wrong and then, like adding salt to a wound, pointed out her mistake to the rest of the class, emphasizing that “Miss Kaigian’s experiment was a perfect example of the way not to do the lab”; in English the teacher had told the class to choose a partner to work on the day’s assignment with, but when Ginny turned toward Therese, she and Winnie had already picked each other for partners and she, Ginny, got stuck with the immature, belching-champion-of-the-school Freddy Harlan.  To top that wonderful day off, at lunch she passed by Kayla’s table and overheard the latter’s friends praising her for some high achievement Kayla had reached.  By the end of the day, her mood was absolutely stormy.      

     Not that her mood was much better now…

     In a surge of anger, she slammed her fist into a tree, instantly regretting her action as she yelped with pain, jumping away from the tree and eyeing it warily as if it had uprooted itself and rammed its trunk into her fist.  Pain swelled through her hand, and she pressed it tightly against her stomach for some obscure reason.  “Why me?” she moaned in self-pity.  “Why me?”

     “Well, normally, if you smash your fist into the trunk of a tree, it will have unpleasant results.”

     Ginny started, but didn’t turn around.  She knew that voice all too well.  “Following me, Taylor?  Or were you just worried that I couldn’t make it home on my own?”

     “My, aren’t we in a bad mood today.”

     “Yes.  Live with it.  Go away.”

     Behind her, she heard him sigh in exasperation.  “Ginny, let me see your hand.”

     “Huh?”  Disarmed for a moment, she didn’t have time to react when he picked up her hand.  She pursed her mouth with displeasure and tried to yank it out of his grasp, but he held on tight.

      “Would you hold still for one second?” Taylor said sharply, carefully holding her hand palm up and probing it gently with the tips of his fingers.

      “What are you doing?” Ginny felt herself flushing at the touch of his hand on hers; she ducked her head, trying to hide her red cheeks.

     Not missing a thing, Taylor looked up and grinned unabashedly.  “Checking for any broken bones.  How could I possibly forgive myself for not checking you over and later finding out that you had indeed injured yourself while—”

     “—releasing my anger?”

     “—abusing trees,” Taylor finished. 

     “You—you—oh, never mind.  You’re not—”

     “—worth the effort?”

     She jerked her hand out of his grasp.  “So now you can read my mind too?  And since when did you become the all-knowing, all healing doctor?”

     “My father is a surgeon, remember?  I’ve picked up a few things over the years.”

     “Yes, of course,” she said, puzzled.  Why had she been under the impression that his father was in the military?  Not that it mattered what his father did…  “So are any of my bones broken?”

     “Not a single one, I’m pleased to report.  I’ll wager it still hurts like the dickens, though.”

     “You’ve got that right,” she said, self-pity creeping into her tone.  What’s with these uncontrollable bursts of anger, Ginny?  People will start thinking you’re insane.  I’ll start thinking I’m insane!

     “What’s going on behind that inscrutable look?”

     She scowled at him.  “Nothing.”

     “A likely story.”

     “Look, Taylor, if you’re just going to act like a—a—”

     “Baffoon’s behind?”

     “No, a baboon’s behind.”

     He smirked.

     She looked away.  Now she was acting like a complete idiot.  “Thanks for your medical advice, Taylor, but I really have to be gong now.”

     “I told you I’d walk you home, didn’t I?  Or do you have short term memory loss?  Or perhaps a hearing problem?  There’s no need to be ashamed, Ginny—lots of young people have hearing problems; it’s not just for the old and decrypt.”

     “You—you—”

     He bowed.  “Shall we be along, milady?”

     Ginny glowered and stalked off into the trees, hoping Taylor would catch the hint.  He didn’t.  He fell in step with her, that annoying smirk on his face still present. 

      She refused to look at him; she figured he’d get bored with the silence and eventually turn back.

     When he was still at her side fifteen minutes later, she stopped and said, “Look, Taylor, is there something you want?  You haven’t spent this much time with me in the past six months.  What do you need?”

     “My, my, aren’t we in a suspicious mood today.”  He rocked back on his heels.  “Why do I get the feeling that you wouldn’t believe me if I said I was merely spending time with my wife?”

     “Your intuition is entirely correct and must I remind you that I divorced you long ago?”

     “Ah, but divorce isn’t legal until there’s a mutual consent.”

     “There was, if my memory serves me correctly.”

     “Back to your memory problems again?  Really, sweetheart, it isn’t good for you to torture yourself this way—”

     “Don’t call me that,” she scowled.

     “Whatever you say—sweetie.”  Before Ginny could howl with outrage, Taylor went on, “Are you sure nothing’s bothering you?”

     Startled, she answered negatively.  “Why do you ask?”

     “Your friends are worried about you.”

     “Huh?  My friends?  Worried?  About me?  Is this some kind of joke?”

     “If a friend’s concern is suspicious, you need to get new friends.”

     “Not necessarily.  They’ve just never inquired about my well-being before.”

     “And you’re okay with this?” he asked sharply.

     She shrugged.  “It’s not that they don’t care about me; I just never cause any reason for worry.”

     “Explain, if you please.”

     She leaned against a tree, figuring she could spare a few minutes to talk. It didn’t matter if she arrived home half an hour or three hours later—she was grounded either way.  “It’s common knowledge that my family and I are at odds.  I’m a 3-4 student—every once in awhile I get a 1 or a 5, but I’m neither thrilled nor appalled.  Besides storytelling and singing I don’t really have any interests.  I’m just…not worth any trouble.  At lunch I usually listen to my friends gossip and swap stories of their grievances and joys, each trying to outdo the other.  It’s quite amusing, actually…”

     “And how is this relevant to the topic?”

     “I’m getting there!” she snapped.  “All I’m saying is, I just blend into the background.  I’m more of an object than a person.  An object doesn’t have feelings and no one asks how an object’s day was: I’m just there.”

     Taylor was scowling.  “Well, I must say that your story was very reassuring.  A word of advice, Ginny: get some new friends.”

     “Here’s a word of advice to you, Mr. Know-it-all Doctor: mind your own business.  I can choose my own friends.”

     “I’m sure you can.  The question is, are they the best friends for you?”

     “I don’t need your psychology or your philosophy, Taylor.  And I do believe I’ve told you to leave more than enough times.”

     “And once again I answer: I’m not leaving until I see you safely home.”

    “So what are we waiting for?” Ginny pushed away from the tree and walked in the direction of her home at a dangerous speed.  “The quicker we make it home, the sooner I get rid of this leech,” she muttered to herself. 

     Taylor causally strolled along beside her, apparently comfortable with the silence.  Finally he broke the silence, saying, “So how much weight have you lost?”

     “I beg your pardon?”

     “How much weight have you lost in the past three months?  Winifred guessed at least five pounds, but I got the impression that she tends to exaggerate.”

    “She does.  About everything.”

    “Lena claims that you’ve been moody and quiet every time she’s been around you, and Veronica described you as ‘distant.’  Therese was biting her nails off one by one, fretting that you were thinking of committing suicide or something; that girl has a serious problem, Ginny.  Does she listen to those murder shows on the radio?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Figures.”

     “So—my friends told you all this?” Ginny asked cautiously.

     “Mm-hm.  You’ve really got them in a state, Ginny.  I’ve never seen Veronica without a smile on her face, and to think that Lena actually talked to me—of her own will—tells me that—”

     “So my friends went up to you, and told you they were worried about me?”

     “Basically.  Well, to be totally honest, Lena was hiding just out of sight around the corner, then in the blink of an eye, slammed me against the lockers, her hands grasping my collar like in those old films.  The rest of the gang burst out of the bathroom and started jabbering away like a flock of geese.  It really was an impressive way to get my attention, although at the beginning, I was worried that they’d all lost it and were about to jump me, but it turned out that Lena just wanted a chance to slam me against the lockers…” He trailed off at the sight of Ginny’s face.  “What?”

    “I don’t believe this.”  Her voice was tight with anger.  “You and my friends discussed me?  Behind my back?  Without my knowledge?”

     “They were worried about you, Ginny,” he said seriously.  “That’s nothing to be upset about.”

     “Nothing to get upset about?  Nothing to get upset about?  I can’t believe you would discuss poor little Ginny and her problems behind my back!  That’s how rumors get started—pretty soon the whole school will think that Ginny Kaigian has depressive mental problems and is about to be admitted into the mental institution down near the hospital!  And don’t you dare tell me that you were doing it ‘for my own good.’  I don’t want to hear it.” 

    “What’s the matter with you?”

     “Everything’s the matter.  School.  Home.  Friends.  Family.  Everything.  The world is against me.”

     “Ginny, I hate to break it to you, but it’s not all about you.”

     She turned on him, her eyes sparking.  “I beg your pardon?”

     “I said, it’s not all about you.”  He leaned against a tree, crossing his legs at the ankles.  The legs of his trousers were muddy.  So was his long-sleeved shirt, now that she noticed it.  What had he been doing, rolling around in the mud?  “You’ve been wrapped up in your own little world for some time now.  Your friends dismissed it for awhile, saying you were going through a phase, but when you ignore them and bundle yourself up in a little cocoon, d’you think maybe they’re going to get worried about you?”

     “I don’t need this, Taylor,” she said, trying to disguise the anger in her voice.

     “Yeah, you do.  And I’m going to tell you anyway.  Stop being so self-centered.  Every petty little offense directed towards you triggers a melodramatic rage.  When your friends express concern for your well-being, you blow them off and, of all things, get angry at them!  ‘That’s gratitude for you,’ as the saying goes.”

     “Taylor, I’m warning you…”

     “No, Ginny, I’m warning you.  Wake up and open your eyes to the real world.  You think you have a hard life?  Go down to the slums and see how good a life people have in Dirty Town.  Do you know how many of them would kill for the life you have?”

     “You’re a fine one to talk, Taylor Baurtin!  Son of a rich doctor, love abounding throughout your house, popularity, good grades at school…”

     “Everything little Virginia could ever wish for, huh?  Would you be satisfied if you had all that the blessed Taylor Baurtin did?”

     “I’m not stupid, Taylor.  I know where you’re going with this conversation?”

     “Do you now?  All the better.  Are you aware that Anthony’s had a crush on you for the past year-and-a-half?”

     “What?”

     “Yes indeed.  And you never once noticed, did you?”

     “Perhaps he’s good at hiding his feelings,” she said defensively.

     “On the contrary.  He couldn’t be more obvious about it—so obvious, that at first I warned him that you’d have to be as dense as my grandmother’s pea soup to not catch on…but you certainly proved me wrong.”

     “I don’t have to listen to this.  I’m leaving.” 

     “Oh no you’re not.”  He grabbed both her arms and pulled her back as she tried to run away.  “Listen and listen good.  You need to leave your pity party and wake up to reality.  The world isn’t a pretty place.  Never has been, never will be.  You’re not the only one with problems.  Instead of moping around feeling sorry for yourself, you should do something about all those things that are upsetting you.”

     “Let me go!”

     “Not until you listen to me.”

     “I am listening—I was listening.” She struggled to free herself from his grasp, but he held on tight.

     “So what are you going to do now?”

     “Go home.”

     “Ginny…”

     “You’ve met my family, Taylor—what do you want me to do?  Demand that they love me?   Order them to stop constantly comparing me to Kayla?  Decree that Kayla shouldn’t outdo me in everything?  It’s not as easy as you make it sound.”

    “Only because you’re looking at the situation through a negative pane of glass.”

    “Well, my life doesn’t have an optimistic-shaded pane in the whole window.  You might as well accept it—I accepted it long ago.” 

    “Ginny,” Taylor said in frustration, “I’m trying to help you.”

    “And you’re doing a valiant job of it, but I won’t be swayed.  Thanks for the delightful little chat, Taylor—we should really do it again sometime.” She disengaged herself from his grasp and started to run in the opposite direction.

     He didn’t try to follow her this time.  She didn’t look back to see if he was still there.  She told herself that she didn’t care.  She wasn’t all that anxious to go home and receive The Lecture.  How could you be so irresponsible?  Don’t you ever think of anyone but yourself?  Can’t you help out your family once in a while?  I don’t know what’s gotten into you; you’re going to have to shape up, Young Lady.  You’re grounded for a week, Ginny.  Maybe this will help you rethink your choices and make a few changes for the future.  The speech was the same every time with a few synonyms thrown in here and there, depending on the seriousness of her offense.

     She hopped over a fallen log.  Anthony had a crush on her?  Ridiculous.  Taylor was imagining things; the only two things that occupied that boy’s mind were girls and himself.  And what was this about her friends being concerned about her?  Had the whole world turned upside down?

     She frowned.  Selfish, indeed!  Who did Taylor think he was to lecture her like that?  He had no idea what her life was like; he was spoiled by his loving family, good looks, brains, and charisma.  What did he know about shunning and suffering?  What did he know about being deemed “odd” by fellow classmates and scrounging for friends?  What did he know about the opposite gender laughing and steering clear of a person because of all the rumors circulating the school: That’s Ginny Kaigian.  Wouldn’t talk to her, if I were you.  Heard she’s a weird one: a little screwy, if y’ask me.  The boys would snicker behind their hands and the girls would giggle cruelly. 

     Look at her hair!  Black as midnight.  And look at her skin!  Pale as milk!  Her eyes are green—bright green!  As if she somehow injected dye into her eyes.  Have you ever seen the like? 

     Do you think she’s a witch? 

     Or perhaps a spirit of some sort?  She acts like one—never talks to anyone, ’cept those friends of hers…

     Doesn’t do well in school…

     Has one heck of a good voice though…almost too good.  Suppose it’s from another world? 

     I heard she tells stories. 

     Stories? 

     Yes, stories!  Ones that people’ve never heard before—sorta like folk legends.    

     Like fairy tales?

     No happy endings, though.

     Maybe she is a witch. 

     I wouldn’t be surprised.   

     She may not be a good student, but she wasn’t stupid.  Ginny heard the whispers that passed through the hall like a hurried spring wind: tossing unpleasant things here and there, spreading tales and lies that could destroy a person.  Her parents didn’t know of such things: not that they’d care if they did.  Harmless stories: no one with a half brain could possibly believe such absurdities.  A physicist and a microbiological engineer couldn’t imagine believing anything a person might happen to tell them without doing sufficient research on the topic first.

     Kayla knew of the rumors.  Like Ginny, she chose to ignore them.  Didn’t encourage them, didn’t discourage them.  Not black or white—gray.  Ginny hated Kayla for that.  She hated her for that more than she hated her for being an honor roll student, the president of their class, and every teacher’s pet. 

     Lûci knew of the rumors.  And she fought against them tooth and nail.  My sister is not a witch—in fact, I think you’re one since you’re cruel enough to call her such a name!  She also hated Kayla: not because she was gray, but because she wasn’t Hannah.  Hannah had always defended Ginny against the rumors, and shielded Lûci from the brunt of taunting as well.  Once Hannah had gone, and Kayla come, Lûci had to face her classmates’ jibes alone. 

     Ginny scowled and quickened her pace.  It was taking longer to reach home than she’d figured.  Maidre had probably paced a path through the living room carpet by now.