Waiting for the Sun - 3 - Mr. Hale
[MASTER POST]
The hunter instincts surmounted Jasper’s vigilant defense; in a surge of adrenaline he catapulted forward in search for the source of the torturous scent. The school bell rang on clockwork signaling the next change, and a flood of students filed out into the halls. So stealthy and swift were Jasper’s phantom movements that he was perceived as only a mysterious cold draft to them. He searched every single face with his razor-sharp senses and turning one corner, stopped dead in his tracks when he caught through the rustling crowd the lingering perfume which led a trail back to the girl nearly obscured by her locker door. Jasper’s throat broiled with thirst and fury. Out of nowhere, she had appeared to threaten the careful construction he had established in that town. A moment later the mysterious girl closed the cubicle and all Jasper glimpsed was a veil of golden hair as she walked off into the safety of the nearest classroom. Her aroma dissipated once more and Jasper tried pull out of this spell.
This was his chance to escape while his hands were still clean. He raced out into the fresh open air and took deep, ragged breaths in recovery. What should he do? Should he tell Carlisle? No, Carlisle would deem it a hazard - for how long could Jasper’s precarious self control actually last? - and immediately order him back home. How had this girl re-emerged in his life? That one afternoon in the forest over ten years ago played clearly in his memories. He determinedly clenched his fists; he would not allow himself to show weakness. Not now.
While pacing and glowering up at the old walls sheltering this new source of torment, Jasper was approached by a graying man in a woolen suit carefully holding his hot mug of Starbucks coffee.
“Mr. Hale, good morning!” the man greeted. “What are you doing standing out here in the rain? You don’t happen to smoke?”
During his inner tirade, a soft drizzle characteristic of the region had indeed begun to fall.
Jasper collected himself as best he could and murmured hoarsely, “Morning, Principal Fletcher.”
“My, it sounds like you caught a cold on your trip. Come inside.”
He obeyed, but felt like he was walking back into a trap. Small talk with the Principal escaped his consciousness as they passed right by the classroom in which the girl was.
“… Her father’s going to be an important contributor to the community, after all, so we should give her a warm welcome.”
The assistant blinked awake. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“The customary tour for our new student - the most convenient time would be during lunch, I’d say.”
Blaring sirens sounded off in Jasper’s brain, and he searched for an excuse. “Sir, Mr. Miles already assigned me a large project today so I don’t think--”
“Surely there’s nothing that urgent in art that can’t be postponed a few hours? I would offer to do it myself but I have an important lunch with the board of directors today.” Seeing the strange displeasure on the young man’s face he continued to persuade, “Ms. Higgins could possibly give the tour as well, but all the previous transfer students gave such positive comments after meeting you…”
Jasper’s high regard for authority got the better of him and so he obediently consented. All the meanwhile he meditated in his back-of-the-office corner cubicle as he waited for the girl’s dreaded arrival. The minutes passed. Then, he heard her voice as clear as day.
“Excuse me… My homeroom teacher told me to report here?”
The sound was soothing and light, with a note of intelligence with each pause.
“Miss Fairfax, so good to finally meet you…!” he heard the Principal exclaim.
Jasper closed his eyes, gulped, and stood up despite the nauseous tumult in his stomach. He made sure to hold his breath as he stepped out to face his oblivious adversary.
“… I’ll call for him now. Mr. Hale, are you--? Oh look, he’s right behind me.”
The moment Jasper perceived the girl’s bashful smile, he felt like a soft light had suddenly dawned in his grey skies. The rage in his veins suddenly extinguished as his topaz eyes locked with the startled aquamarine in hers. Her pink lips parted ever so slightly in shock. Warmth overcame him as she studied him without a hint of fear. She truly was the same brave girl he had once come across.
“… Good, I’ll leave you two to it then.” Principal Fletcher clapped, unaware of the lightning strike right in front of him. “Aurelia, don’t hesitate to ask Mr. Hale any questions at all. That’s what he’s here for.”
Aurelia. That was a lovely name.
In almost all grand narratives, the heroine must always by her own determination dive into - lest be thrust into - the beginning of an adventure. Instead, when the one named Mr. Hale glided into the room, my heart skipped a beat and I felt as if I were wandering back into a story I had once visited long ago. This man seemed so familiar, from his strong, noble stance to his pale marble features. Because of the extraordinary, unmistakable sentiment right at the pit of my stomach that I had somehow met him before - in a daydream, perhaps - the guarded intensity of his exterior did not fool me from perceiving a brief glimmer underneath his crystal gaze.
I searched his handsome face for a glint of recognition but he simply gestured out the door with a cold arm. “Right this way, Miss Fairfax.” Even his courteous voice created a tiny ripple on my memory.
Mr. Hale invested much concentration on the task at hand of explaining every aspect of the school, for he marched on straight and would not look in my direction even once. All the details flew over my head as I found myself very aware of the strict distance between us. Dozens of questions completely unrelated to school hung from the tip of my tongue but it didn’t seem like he would pause to entertain them. I had to nearly skip to keep up with his long, brisk strides.
Before I knew it we had completed the circuit around the main building and we stepped out onto the school grounds. The light rain did not seem to bother Mr. Hale for he continued the open-air portion of the tour without breaking pace. I raised my arms as a shield over my head and tried to follow along.
In a rehearsed tone he continued, “Our Crew team is ranked second in the state. If you want to try out for any sports, contact…” For once, he gave me a moment of attention and trailed off.
“Go on, I’m listening.” I weakly insisted.
My heart leapt in my throat as he slipped off his cardigan in one fluid motion and held it over me like an umbrella. This close to him, I was suddenly struck with a nostalgic, comforting, cool scent. Blushing, I dared to look up and was amazed to meet his soft expression of concern.
“I’m sorry Miss Fairfax, it hadn’t occurred to me that you wouldn’t be accustomed to this weather.”
I meekly shook my head and tried to formulate a sentence. “It - it isn’t always like this, is it? Grey and cold and rainy…”
A small smile played on his lips. “You just have to endure it until Spring. And then, this land blossoms like no other.”
Our quiet return was much slower this time, as I carefully tread underneath the sweater that Mr. Hale tirelessly sheltered me with from the downpour. All the while, as I tried to calm down my racing heartbeat, it seemed completely natural for him to oblige. When we made it back underneath the school roof I turned to thank him, but he had already turned back to his original indifferent, almost aloof countenance. Tiny beads of water clung to his curled eyelashes and his golden hair, and his shoulders were soaked through.
I bit my lip guiltily. “Sorry, you got all…”
As if I already knew him, my hand automatically reached out to brush away the droplets, but he defensively withdrew three paces as soon as I blinked.
“I - I’d better get back to my duties. Good day.” With that, he was gone.
The man doubled over on a stool in the empty art studio. Jasper’s strong shoulders dropped as long, weary exhale escaped his chest. If he could endure this time, then most certainly he could endure the next time, and the next… and perhaps all would run smoothly until the end of the year.
The downpour escalated and battered against the skylight above, and he remembered jumping back from Aurelia’s touch in case he got scalded. Now, he wondered if she would have noticed the chill of his skin. He knit his brow and remembered the gentle pull of Aurelia’s gravity. What was this curious lightness?
Paintbrush met blank canvas in a shower of bold color and fragmentary shapes…
Still in a state of restlessness, I wandered into fourth period and was quickly greeted by the sharp-humored, bold-eyed girl who sat to my left.
“Rhea, right?” she leaned forward warmly. “I’m Claudie - I’m also in your third period. I was going to ask you to sit with us at lunch but you hurried off right after class!”
“Oh, I had to go take an orientation tour.”
The boy in front of Claudie with a goofy smile chimed in, “Who was your guide?”
“Mr. Hale.”
“That must’ve been a real warm welcome!”
“Huh?”
“A lot of girls would be jealous that you got to walk around alone with the hot TA, including Claudie here.”
I blushed and admitted, “He - he’s very good looking, that’s for sure.”
“Just ignore Rob.” Claudie rolled her eyes mildly. “You’re lucky you got Mr. Hale instead of Ms. Higgins. He’s really nice, isn’t he? Makes you feel at ease.”
I couldn’t help but frown. “Oh?”
“… He wasn’t nice?”
“Well, he was. He was very polite, but…”
The girl nodded as if she understood. “I know what you mean. He’s almost too polite, right? I think he grew up in the South or something so he has a lot of manners.”
“So he’s like that with everyone?”
Before Claudie could answer, the teacher entered and began speaking to us in rapid French. While I tried to be attentive, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mr. Hale had been displeased with me in some way. And yet, in that moment of silence underneath his wing, I could have sworn-
“Mademoiselle la-bas, comment t’appelles-tu?”
I cleared my throat and reminded myself why I was there. I just had to finish high school and cut the strings from the past. “Je m’appelle Aurelia, Madame.”