A Different Blue(8)

“Turn your papers in. And please make sure your name is at the top! I can't give you credit for

your history if I don't know that it's yours!”

The room was empty in about ten seconds flat. Mr. Wilson struggled to align the stack of papers

that had been shoved in his hands as students exuberantly vacated his classroom, eager for other

things. The first day of school was officially over. He noticed me still sitting and cleared his

throat a little.

"Miss . . . um . . . Echohawk?"

I stood abruptly and reached for my paper. I crumpled it into a ball and tossed it toward the

trashcan beneath the white board. It didn't quite make it, but I didn't retrieve it. Instead, I

grabbed my purse and the jacket that was completely unnecessary in the 110 degree heat that

awaited me outside the school. I didn't look at my new teacher as I strode to the back of the

room and swung my purse over my shoulder.

"Later, Wilson," I called out, not even turning my head.





Manny was waiting by my truck when I reached the student parking lot, and seeing him there made

me groan. Manuel Jorge Rivas-Olivares, aka Manny, lived in my apartment complex. He and his

little sister had adopted me. They were like the stray cats that would hang around your door and

meow pitiously for days on end until you finally gave up and fed them. And when you finally fed

them, it was over. They were officially your cats.

So it was with Manny and Graciela. They just kept hanging around until I finally took pity on

them. Now they thought they belonged to me, and I didn't know how to make them go away. Manny

was sixteen and Graciela was fourteen. Both were small-boned and fine-featured, and both were

incredibly sweet and annoying. Just like cats.

There was a bus that ran to the complex, and I made sure Manny's mother knew all about it and

even assisted her in getting Manny and Graciela registered to ride it. I really thought this

year would be different now that Graciela was in ninth grade and would be riding the high school

bus too. Guess not. Manny was waiting for me with a big smile and an armful of books.

“Hey, Blue! How was your first day? Big senior year, Chica! I bet you'll be homecoming queen

this year. The most beautiful girl in the school should be homecoming queen, and you are

definitely the most beautiful girl!” Very sweet, very annoying. Manny spoke a mile a minute

with a slight Hispanic accent and just a hint of a lisp, which might have been the accent but

was more likely just Manny.

“Hey, Manny. What happened to riding the bus?”

Manny's smile slipped a little, and I felt bad for asking. He waved my question away and

shrugged.

“I know, I know. I told Gloria I would take the bus, and I made sure Graciela caught it . . .

but I wanted to ride home with you on the first day. Did you see the new history teacher? I have

him for first period, and I can tell he's going to be the best teacher I've ever had . . . and

the cutest too!”

Manny had recently started calling his mother Gloria. I wasn't sure what that was about. I also

considered telling him he might want to reconsider calling Mr. Wilson cute. I assumed that was

who he was talking about. I didn't think there were two new history teachers.

“I love his accent. I hardly heard anything he said all period!” Manny slid daintily in the