The Principal's Daughter - Chapter 1
Chapter 1
“Excuse me,” I turned toward the honey smooth voice. The girl next to me flashed an engaging smile displaying her brilliant white teeth. She seemed to move and lean across her desk so as to show herself to the best advantage. Her pale skin shone in stark contrast to the waist length coal black hair falling around her shoulders. Pouting her lips she asked, “Have you seen my apple?”
Arching my eye brow, I wondered why she was wasting the seductress attempt on me, “Sorry, fresh out of produce.”
Her brow furrowed slightly, not so much as to be called unlady like however. With a slight huff, she turned to the guy at the desk on the other side of her. I could hear her pose the same question, with motions. If I hadn’t just been the recipient of the act, it would have been a lot more entertaining to watch the poor fellow fall all over himself and become tongue tied in front of the little seductress. And yet, still no apple in sight.
If only this wasn’t a common occurrence, then it would be something supremely amusing. It had been the first couple of times that it had happened. Granted asking for an apple is not the usual question, but I’ve been asked about everything from a spell scroll to a glass slipper since I started coming to this school.
I guess I should start by saying it that it began once upon a time…cliché I know, but you’ll see what I mean.
My father and I lived an ordinary, quiet life. For the most part I did my best to not act up and misbehave, and he did his best to not embarrass me at school. Why there specifically? He’s a principal. A pretty good one too since the student body hadn’t tried to revolt or riot since he’d taken the position over. It’d been just me and him since my mother had run off to join the circus, or was that to become a scuba instructor? The story changed as my father’s mood did, he liked to tell a good tale and mom was perfect fodder for his yarn spinning practice.
Everything had been pretty normal in my life up to this point. I was doing well in my classes; my teachers even liked me for the most part. I had friends that didn’t peer pressure me into doing too many things to cause trouble. We don’t talk about the traffic cones and kazoo. It was lots of fun at the time, but the traffic patterns were all screwed up and people weren’t amused.
There were even a few activities that I liked to participate in after school let out for the day. Drama club was fun when I didn’t have to participate in the actual stage activities. Give me a paint brush and some direction and the set would be, excuse the pun, set.
However, that was all about the change. Sometimes I think it must have been going too well. The school year was winding down, and I was just gearing up to go in to the summer before my senior year, when we got the letter.
Actually it was more of a scroll.
Dad and I were eating dinner, a nice pot of spaghetti with amazing tomato meat sauce when we heard the gurgling noise. I chewed my bite pasta, as Dad rose to investigate. He checked the sink. The garbage disposal was notorious for backing up and churning. At his head shake I knew that we didn’t have a small pool of chopped produce bits in the white porcelain bowl. I took another bit of twirled pasta as Dad scratched his head. There was another gurgle and the meat sauce lid lifted with steam. He took the lid in hand and frowned inside. Peering into the pot of sauce, he exclaimed loudly, “What the hell is that?!” I dropped my folk, splattering sauce across the table, and rushed to see what he was pointing at.
Fetching a pair of tongs, I pulled a scroll from the simmering pot. It was a pristine and spotless white, not even a hint of garlic smell. Amazing, wish I knew how it prevented the tomato stains. Gingerly taking the scroll, Dad turned it over in his hands.
“Are you going to open it?”
“I’m more concerned about how it got there actually.” I peered back in the pot; none of the sauce appeared contaminated. The counter and stove were still spotless, no sauce had been displaced. Interesting.
With an exasperated sigh, I took the scroll from his hands and read aloud, “To Mr. Lucas Davis, Principle of Williams High School.” I glanced up, “Well they know who you are.” Handing the scroll back I urged him to open it.
Setting the scroll on the counter, he used a kitchen knife to peel the wax from the binding point. I’d only ever read about documents sealed with wax. Where ever it came from was trapped in the middle ages. Gently, he unraveled it partway, amazed when it stayed flat without being held and read:
Mr. Lucas Davis,
We would like to extend the honor to you, good sir, of being the next principle of our students in the coming school term at Hopewell Academy, school of Folk and Fairy Tales. You are requested to be present on the first of September for the opening ceremonies to meet and greet the arriving students, teachers, and parents.
Your charming daughter is welcome to attend Hopewell for her last year as this will require a move for your family. Rest assured, someone will send details concerning transportation and dates soon.
Warmest regards,
Julian Lancaster
Prince Charming XXVII
Head of the High Council of Ever After
It was an all round shock. Who would ever imagine that they would be summoned to The Land Far Far Away (you know, the one in all the fairy tales) to teach the next generation of princesses, knights, and do-gooders; though that also included the array of evil-doers and wizards. To discover that fairy tales resided somewhere living out their lives in a fashion to reflect the original works was mind boggling. To the point that Dad stood over the scroll not moving and extremely pale. Granted it still hadn’t sunk in for me either, but I figure with some rest and the start of a new day, it would all make sense right?
I remember waking the next morning smiling. What an utterly fantastic dream! I rose from bed and staggered down to the kitchen for breakfast. As I popped some bread in the toaster and pulled the orange juice from the fridge, I spotted the scroll lying curled up on the counter. I felt reality crash around my ears. Dad sat at the table sipping his coffee and staring at the scroll lying innocently on the counter. Pfft, as if it hadn’t thrown our whole world topsey turvey.
Reaching for my toast, I took a seat with Dad and gazed at the scroll waiting. He was one of those people that thought and brooded long and silently before announcing a decision. Then again once the decision was made he never wavered and followed through on it till the end. From where I was sitting early, I’m sure you can imagine the decision he made. Then again, who’s really going to say no to Prince Charming?