January

Do you know what's the worst thing about the Christmas school holiday? It ends too fast! By the time you wash the champagne glasses, you toasted New Year's with, it's time go to back to school. No time to truly relax from all the present-buying, present-gifting, and present-opening, from watching all the Home Alone and Die Hard movies or singing Auld Lang Syne way too many times. The holiday exhaustion was real even for me, with only a two-person family and a two-person friend group I had to care about. I could only imagine how overwhelming it must be for people with big families and many friends.

But you know what's worse than that? Every year, as long as I have been in Silverwood, on the first day after the winter holiday, the school is not only freezing from the lack of heating during the two weeks off, but the cafeteria also doesn't open until lunch. No coffee, tea, or even hot chocolate before class - nothing to warm up the soul and wake up the mind.

So freaking cold!

I glanced at the massive clock above the whiteboard and groaned. Only ten minutes had passed since the beginning of the first class. Mrs Gilbert's slow, monotone talking made it feel like ages. I was almost convinced the bell should have rung by now. Instead, there were forty-five minutes left of this torture, called Midterm revision. I looked down at my desk - my notebook lay open on a new page, with only a new date written on it. Of course, I got the year wrong, leaving a big ink spot to mark the correction. Another Silverwood tradition of mine. The rest of the page was completely blank, despite the teacher outlining notes on the whiteboard as she droned on, expecting us to listen and copy everything down. I shifted in my seat, squeezing my hands between my thighs. The cold was making it impossible to write, even with the giant woven sweater I purposely wore today failing to save me from the shivers.

Feeling half-asleep and completely dead inside, I must have looked quite depressed while staring down at my notebook because suddenly I felt something hit my boot, and heard a soft 'Pssst' behind me. I didn't react, but a second, more urgent 'Pssssssssssst', made me turn my head slowly. My eyes met Margot's, the only friend I had in this class. With her ginger hair masterfully plaited in two braids, light make-up skillfully applied and a stylish beige cashmere turtleneck dress engulfing her body, she looked like the epitome of a morning lark. I probably resembled some sort of a hybrid between an owl and a bear - a creature active at night but hibernating in the coldest months. I sighed, wishing I could hibernate right now.

Margot seemed exasperated by my sluggishness. Her blue eyes widened, and she glanced down at the floor for a moment before meeting my gaze again. Her plump lips mouthed something, but my senses were too dulled to understand. She rolled her eyes and nodded very pointedly toward my boot.

It finally clicked, and I looked down. Right next to my left boot, there was a small paper ball. I glanced at Mrs. Guilbert, who was busy jotting down the dates of each war she planned to put on the midterm exam on the board. Cautiously, I bent down and grabbed the paper ball, quickly unfolding it. Margot's almost illegible handwriting greeted me.

"OMG! OMG! DID YOU HEAR???????"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes so hard that my head started throbbing. That was a very typical Margot bait. Clearly, there was some news that she was the only one to know. Before I could convey my own exasperation to her, another paper ball landed on my open notebook. I shot a quick look at the teacher, but she seemed oblivious. Discreetly, I unfolded the second ball.

"New students. GUYS!!! In our year!"

I sighed, glad she got straight to the point instead of expecting me to start guessing. It was a more exciting beginning to the year than the traditional lack of heating and hot drinks, but far from the excitement that overflowed from Margot's secret notes. Given our positions in the school hierarchy, there was no point in getting excited about new students. Unless they were willing to join our Outsider club, that is. Margot and I were destined to keep to ourselves. I was the adopted daughter of the town's sheriff, and she was the daughter of the headmaster of the only high school in town. While our parents had a lot of authority in Silverwood, nobody our age wanted to get too close to that authority. Well, Margot had a bit more favour among our peers, it was useful to know the daughter of the headmaster after all, but I had none. Nobody wanted to hang out with the daughter of the strict sheriff. I was lucky to have Margot as my friend.

Two more paper balls landed around my desk. It was starting to become challenging to keep track of the flying missiles.

"I heard Dad last night. And I SAW THEM THIS MORNING", stated unfolded ball number 3.

The message on the last piece of paper read, "They are HOOOOOOT" with a thirsty emoji scribbled next to it. I snorted very loudly.

Unfortunately, I picked the wrong moment to do so. My snort echoed in the quiet, half-asleep classroom, drawing everyone's attention, including Mrs. Guilbert's.

"Miss Thompson?", I froze, looking up. The teacher's face was turned towards the class, and her small, brown eyes were focused on me. I gulped as I watched her lips move. It took me way too long to realise she was asking me a question.

"Ermm... sorry, what was the question?", I croaked, shaking my head slightly in a desperate attempt to wake up my mind enough to understand what the teacher was asking.

"Miss Thompson, what year did the First World War start?", Mrs Guilbert repeated the question slowly, enunciating each word loudly as if I had a hearing problem. I know that! It is... it is... I frantically tried to think of the answer. Usually, I was good with history, but at that moment my mind was completely blank, just like my notebook.

Since nothing came out of my mouth, Mrs Guilbert shook her head slowly, her black and pepper wavy hair was dancing around her round face disapprovingly. Just like Medusa, I thought. "Perhaps it would be good to write this down for a change. Or to look at the whiteboard, where it is written," she said pointedly.

My eyes shot behind her, and sure enough, the beginning and end dates of World War I were written right there. I felt my cheeks burning in embarrassment as I opened my mouth to mutter an excuse about the cold and my frozen brain.

Before I managed to say anything, there was a sharp knock on the door, and everybody turned to look as it opened. Headmaster Pierce walked in, followed by two huge guys who looked like his personal security guards.

"Class, Mrs Guilbert, I apologise for the interruption", said the headmaster in his matter-of-fact voice. "These are the new students in the class, Christopher and Michael". He turned to the guys that were following him, and I realised with a start that he was talking about them. Surely that must be some joke. No way they are seventeen... I turned to look at Margot, shocked that these were actually boys our age. She was too busy gawking at them to notice my expression. She wasn't the only one - everybody was staring.

Michael and Christopher didn't seem to mind the attention. They were both very tall and very fit, that much was clear. One of them had a sharper face and raven-black hair that fell in eyes the colour of deep forest underbrush. The other one had dark blond hair and a piercing blue gaze. There was something about both their postures and the way they held themselves that made me think they were related but at the same time, their features were too different for that to be the case. I couldn't help but wonder what had brought them here, in Silverwood of all places, mere months before graduation.

Mrs Guilbert waved her hand dismissively interrupting the public staring display. "Welcome to Silverwood High, Christopher and Michael. Please take your seats. We are in the middle of the midterm revision, and I'm afraid there is no time for proper introductions at the moment." Typical Mrs. Guilbert, nothing was more important than the smooth duration of her lessons.

Getting the hint, Headmaster Pierce nodded at nobody in particular, turned on his heel and walked out without another word. Christopher and Michael took a moment to look at the shocked faces around them and then hurried towards the back of the room to take the only empty seats available. They both walked past me, and I couldn't help but look up at them curiously. I wasn't sure who was Christopher and who was Michael, but it didn't seem to matter. As they were walking past me, they both glanced in my direction and then at my desk. They made noises that sounded like unhappy grunts. I quickly looked away and stared down at my desk. The unfolded paper notes that Margot had sent me were very clearly visible, especially the last one, and I realised the new guys must have read them. I felt my cheeks burning even hotter. My face must look like a tomato!

When Mrs. Guilbert resumed her talking and faced the whiteboard once more, I gathered my courage and turned to look back. As if expecting that, Christopher and Michael were both staring at me, eyes narrowed, jaws clenched, lips pressed in thin lines.

I am so dead.