MY FIRST CLASS was math, and Mr. Baeben, was the dowdy teacher registered for the class, the secretary had assisted me, she had walked with me to the class, Mr. Baeben had already been informed of the plus one character in his class.

  My demeanor surprised me, I was neither nervous nor excited more of just bothered as I got in my first class, as though I had this weight of doleful and disappointment, just fraying it's fabric in my movement, but externally, I tried to pretend it was anything but that, I had masked it with practised ease and casualty, calmly marching straight to Mr. Baeben for assistance, I prudently introduced myself before asking him for help to a seat, it was as if he was mirroring my tone and expression when he replied to me in a similar manner, relative and simple.

  Well, Mr. Baeben was an average looking man, just a bored stubby, balding man, with deep sapphire blue eyes, he I remember was dressed in formal clothing but that was not what caught my attention primarily, it was his voice that was not colored with the common accent, he was probably not from around here, he sounded more Southern if anything, mostly people from New Franklends, were plagued with such heavy accents, not that it was a bad thing, just new to me. He was really helpful, actually, he welcomed me then quickly directed me to a seat, he pointed slightly at a blonde girl at the seat near to the center. I nodded and walked over to the seat.

  I took out a few of my things as the class filled up, wondering, pondering and trivializing of how this was going to be my new life's decided upon's temporal adjustments and what I needed to do was to get used to it for the next four days to possibly the rest of the year, to constrict the major disappointment and animosity that filled in my chest, in order to make it and comply with Dad's enigma decision.

  this was what school felt like, relatively quiet much to my agreement, formal. . . And so far dreading and inescapable, a low sigh left my lips as I reluctantly looked amongst me. The room had a low hum of students muffling and conversing but it fell silent when Mr. Baeben came up front. He stood infront of his desk.

  "Morning, Everyone."

  They was a leveled faint response from my vicinity, as he brushed a forefinger at the thick graying bush beneath his nostrils, clicking his tongue. "We are done with the last exercise on this topic and I'd like us to do alittle recap, alright. And before it skips my mind, I'd like to make one more notice. We have a newly joiner here. ."

  A few students looked amongst themselves, with ridiculous obliviousness, though they were unfamiliar of the twenty- three students that resided here.

  "Alwyn Westlake, over there." He finished, he just had to for these clueless people, as he merely pointed at me, some students looked back and some turned at me, now I felt it. Eyes, I felt everyone was looking at me now, for the briefest of seconds, I spun my gaze left then right then back ahead nervously, I felt an awkward wave of red ants tickle down my spine, ebbing the comfortable pressure in my lungs, anxiety creeping up in my breath, as it puffed out, I hate loud introductions, and I already began hating this clas, I also hated. . . Mr--but I couldn't hate Mr Baeben at all he was just doing his job. To his aftermath, I had sensed this weird change of leveled balance, to the class beginning suddenly filled with giggly muffles and husky whispers.

  "Wait, isn't he who I think he is! I can't believe it! Nicole Walker from Trending sides! I love that series!" One raved, totally unexpectedly.

  "Oh my God! You're right. Westlake as in Edward Westlake. . . I can't believe his son's here. ." A girl uttered.

  "Oh shit! I know him- his Nicky!" A boy whisper shouted simultaneously with her.

  "His even more handsome in person!" A red-head female gushed.

  ''Hey! The guy from Trending sides!"

  "O.M.G! Edward son's here I've like seen all his movies. . ." They went on.

  That was all I could hear, my loosey name completely overshadowed, with not even a single mention of it, though it was too awful to be even uttered.

  The noise soon died out when the math teacher cleared his throat loudly and aggressively then continued with his discussion. I remember just sitting in Math class thinking about two things, one of which was why wasn't I just an shadow because, my Name had literally been shoved off by the two names I inadvertently carried; Edward Westlake's son and Nicole Walker, it'd been nearly two years and most of everyone who knew the series still called me Nicole and Everyone who knew Dad would call me Mini Eddie or Ed, I couldn't blame, simply because Dad admitted that was how he addressed me, to make matters worse he didn't just call me that at home but on interviews, Magazines, social media platforms, Infront of everyone we knew, and the list extends.

  At first, I liked being Dad's junior- Actually I loved being his junior, I found it amusing the notice people made between us, our similar mannerisms, our physical resemblance. But after all these years, I began to want a name of my own, my own recognition, a name that didn't involve his. I know, I sure did look up to the Man, Dad was everything I wanted to become but being referred to as Mini Eddie or Ed stuck for years, it just couldn't seem to shake off, during interviews, on talk shows, Magazines always made that shitty reference and eventually it started to become unbearably annoying. I started to imagine how my life would have been if I was just a shadow, an absolute stranger to fame, a life away from the media, a nobody.

  My focus suddenly resumed when I heard the bell go, it had been an hour already and I had only heard quarter of what Mr. Baeben was saying about the recap. The another thing I thought about was being two topics ahead of this class, which meant the recap exercise was easy to do. And thinking about just those two things left me distracted that I didn't even notice when a small group crowded my desk. I glanced at their gleeing faces, they looked amazed, it brought the feeling of me being infront of large crowds. The love and attachment I felt, I had for that unrealistic character was now nonexistent but it felt eccentric. I looked at the first person to speak who finally made things less awkward.

  ''Nicky, could you have this. .''

  'Nicky' I overlooked that and took the paper infront of me.

  '' Could you do me a favor and have Edward Westlake sign it and tell him Ryan Austin Is a Huge fan of ' Memories of him ' and 'The agents in Blu'. Oh! Oh! Almost forgot tell him I said he is my idol.''

  Another went. ''Nicky, I've been dreading to know this, what was your favorite scene in episode five 'Attachment'?''

  And another. ''Shit. Nicole could you sign my Notepad and have your father as well.''

  Every face I looked at appeared to be saying the same thing as the other, it was sickening staring left, then right then left again then back to right. Trying instantaneously to listen to what they were all saying. The strange repeatation ceased when Mr. Baeben told them to go to their next class and leave me alone. Without having to say it a second time the small group cleared.

  I sighed falling back at my sit, pushing my falling inky locks back in my head. I thought about the long day I had ahead of me, I hoped that my other classes wouldn't be like this one but that was just Hypothetic thinking, from class to class a group of students would stop by ask almost the same requests as the first in Math, teachers helped clear them out everytime but it was soon lunch time and I had to eat in the cafeteria with No teachers present.

  I couldn't escape, perhaps if I knew the school well enough I would have gone some part less crowded but I didn't this meant I had to join them.

  That feeling was back- that longing flusteredly's feeling.

  ***********

  I TOOK IT back when I said Dad couldn't make things worser than they already were. Amongst all my New classes from Art history to psychology to musicals to fence. Fence was the one that struck me the most. I've always been a fan of combat, boxing and wrestling, and I assumed fence was no different, the only contrast was the sword which I was sure would be like holding a tennis racket, simple if you have the talent, but to be honest, I was never as good as those authentic players born with the gift for me it was practice and hard work, and since I was born here and tournamented a couple of games they included me in their rank, getting me on the country's fifty best tennis teen players chart as number seven. Well, not bad I'd say.

  My last class for the day was fence. I was quite excited about fence that I couldn't wait to get started, I adored learning new things and making them hobbies, I was sure fence would be a new hobby of mine, however, I had delayed to get to the fence room to join the rest because of two students who wanted autographs in the boys' locker room right before I got in my fence suit, I was the last person to get out of the locker room.

  Inside the fence room, I found that they had already started fencing, I glanced around the room, everyone seemed to be in combat, except for the man standing infront of the room, watching everyone. I figured he was the fence teacher. I paused, blankly staring at everyone, I had no idea of what to do or who to join. Maybe, if I was early I would have known and probably had a partner. Luckily, I didn't stand there like a crass scare crow for long, the fence teacher noticed me.

  ''Mr. Westlake.'' He called. ''Come forward.'' his accent was French. ''Ms. Wallace, told me about you, my new ballerina.''

  I stepped aside him, with my eyes not moving from the fencers, I was fluttered, the were a sight to admire and I wanted to be a part, it seemed so light and easy to do.

  ''Don't be shy, let's see what you know?''

  I was starting to hate that notion people got, assuming your silence was because of being ' I was not shy and I don't think I've ever been shy just really really observant. But for a moment, I finally stopped ranting about being shy when those five little words finally crossed my mind. '. When I thought about that critically, 'What did I know?' Some movie scences from what? or probably easier moves from the animated series the . I sighed internally, in dread and shame, but He had already caught the attention of the pair nearest to us.

  ''Baracks. Let me borrow your opponent.''

  ''N-No problem sir.'' Baracks sounded quite happy to hear that, and alot relieved he stood back.

  ''Wesley- Wonka- Westlake. . Forward.''

  I'd have to spare him for I was to hear worse. I walked up to my first opponent. I stood in my position honestly, just remembering all the movie scenes which I was hoping would pay off, I was set and when I glanced at my opponent they seemed to be staring at me, I supposed he read my gesture of 'What are you waiting for?' cause he cleared his thought and pointed at their head, referring that my helmet was to be on during the fight. That was obvious, I was a bit edgy and I didn't want to make it too obvious that this was my first time fencing, but I wasn't doing so well with that.

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  I immediately wore my helmet and we put some distance between us, and the fence teacher told us to start. Instantly my opponent took the first shot, he lunged at me nearly knocking off my sword out of my hands, my defence was like a mouse at its dead end, he came back with a stronger hit drawing his sword, this time for my head, I ducked it just barely, I could have sworn his sword reaching for my thoart but the moment I tried to retaliate my sword was no longer in my possession, frankly speaking, I had no idea of where it went to, the last thing I saw before reopening my eyes on the feel of the floor was my opponent charging at me.

  It finally came to my attention in a form of a slap in the face 'Why did I think this was anything easy?' Watching the fencers move their swords; them lunge at each other; using swift tactics and smart defense moves; then move back and forward, made everything seem alot easy and fun. But then I thought of it lucidly, I had never fenced before, my experience with a sword was at negative hundred, tennis was much easier than this, my opponent made that very clear. Whose idea was it for me to join fence in the first place?

  Right, good old Dad. He assigned me to this, because he took it back in his high school days, he said he was pretty good with a sword, imagine how I felt when I was the opposite. Dad always said we were alot similar and I liked to see it that way but from time to time, it made me question if we really were.

  The fence teacher looked at me lying there on the floor, he's face had no emotion. I couldn't tell if he was disappointed and just acting like he had seen worse or if he was disappointed and I was the worst he'd ever seen. Hard. I left that one open for options. He torn away from me onward to that hurricane that literally knocked me off my feet.

  ''Stefanie, you lasted longer this time.'' He said as calm as a beach with no breeze.

  I found that remark hard to believe, he put me up with Hard experience and thought the newbie could take it. Not the first time this was happening to me, and a side of me thought he probably didn't know, neither of them did.

  ''He's new, I thought I'd go easy on him.'' said my opponent, so I guessed they both knew and that was easy? So much for not making things obvious.

  One thing I forgot to mention was that my opponent didn't really sound boyish or anything like a guy they sounded somewhat different, more feminine. I hazily turned at them as they took off their helmet, my- he opponent wasn't a he but a she.

  ''Crap. I got knocked down by a girl?'' I Muttered squirming.

  She turned at me suddenly. She had a face that weighed both allure and somewhat conniving like a paradox, odd but they danced together like the muted star light in the day. Her dark blonde hair perfectly gelled, had been tied back her head with strands dangling between the sides of her square- shaped face.

  ''Problem with that?'' She said, even her voice sounded dark and somewhat timid.

  I knew she was referring to my comment. I sighed wasn't it bad enough I was terrible at fence the last thing I wanted was to make an enemy who assumed I was some sexist, it wasn't meant to come off like that, I just also didn't want my ass getting kicked by a girl or anyone as matter of fact it never makes a good impression. Surprisingly, she offered her hand to help me up. Just as I was about to take her hand, she shifted it off to her sword tucked her helmet under her left arm. She then swaggered off, so I took it she was ticked off about that.

  The sense of stupidity waved crossed my mind, what exactly was I waiting for? I finally got up by myself, after I got up I looked around for my sword, which abandoned me in my time of need. Maybe they would have been a slight difference if I still had it. Maybe. I felt a light tap on my shoulder behind me, I turned.

  ''Here you dropped this.'' He had my sword in his left hand.

  ''Thanks.'' I said kind of jaded taking it.

  ''First time?''

  ''Was it that obvious?''

  ''Yep.'' He smirked, that wasn't helping. My mood kept on dropping probably quicker than that Stefanie girl's expressions.

  ''Or maybe its because I overheard Mr. Pablo's say you were.'' He admitted, as I took off my helmet.

  ''Yeah. It's my first.''

  ''It gets better. I wasn't so good either, when I started. I couldn't keep my balance, alot of people here said I didn't cut, that I shouldn't be here, that I should have probably been in some other program. But I didn't let that stop me. Long story, short I got better with time.''

  I sighed dreary wondering how long it'd take me to actually keep my sword while still standing. In short when'd I get better.

  ''By the way I'm - Valentino Vanz but my buddies call me Tino.'' He introduced himself. He was an inch taller than me, when he stood closer and under his faint moustache, his lips quirked a thin smile, brushing his long fingers into his sooty afro hair, cut neatly into bowl shape.

  ''I'm Alwyn Aaron Westlake but my friends call me Aaron. .'' It was that awkward pitching of notes on my tongue, it was weird saying it like an out of tune rhyme, I often used my middle name as my first particularly because I liked that it tied some remembrance to Mom, I felt nostalgic about it, I know it was ludicrous of me to always try and remember her as much as possible but I liked that I did, until I learned how to let go of certain things. I said with a half smile which varnished when sir Pablo spoke.

  ''Mr. Westlake. A word with you.''

  I prefigured this was basically the moment he'd tell the glaring obvious truth. I braced myself, hoping I'd take it lightly. I was pretty sure I could take it, I seemed to always understand when things would get to bottom brick, for as long as I can remember I've always taken things, robotically, though I became numb to what hurt to be heard.

  ''Question. Have you ever seen the man on the wire?''

  ''Um. sure, multiple times, hasn't everybody?'' I briskly lied, well I guess I did, I could imagine besides it wasn't a total lie, I had a long time ago.

  ''No. You haven't.''

  ''Yes. I have sir.'' I said alittle puzzzled. Wondering how lost I was getting in this conversation.

  ''My point is the balance he has. The precision, the focus, the determination and the understanding that he could lose it all with one simple overlooked mistake.''

  I was curious where this was going, I looked like I was having a hard time understanding what he was implying.

  ''Look, your like elephant trying to hid from mouse. .''

  That was some way to put it, I didn't think I was that bad.'' You lack confidence'' I was pretty sure I was confident when all of this started, but that first hit knocked the wind right out of me. ''Resilience and focus. Standing and waiting for your opponent to make the first move Is sometimes wise If you know how your opponent functions but if you don't striking first may also be a danger if you have no idea of what you're doing. I'd say trick your opponent to thinking you don't know what you're doing, let him belittle you while you attack when his gurads down. You my boy did neither.''

  ''So wait. You got all that out from watching a four minute fight?'' I asked gingerly.

  ''We both know it was shorter than that.'' He lazy stared at me. ''And no I got all that from, when you stood infront of Stefanie. I hear you are actor. You're acting is not appreciated here on my floor. If you're gonna act you can at least play as the warrior and not the confused chameleon.''

  Precisely.

  ''So. I think of solution. From tomorrow after school hours are over you are to return back here to practice Everyday for an hour.''

  ''Every day after school?!'' I exclaimed racy.

  ''Until you get better. Extra lessons are required. Don't be frightened you're not the only ballerina, they're other piggies here, fairly, slightly better than you. Something like Five out of ten, is it?''

  I didn't answer, mostly because I was still on his first sentence. I didn't mind if I'd be here with others but the extra hour in school.

  ''Sir, really an hour?''

  ''What? You want two hours? ''He huffed though I was demanding for more because I was pleased and didn't think an hour was enough.

  ''No. An hour's fine.'' I agreed quietly.

  ''Good. By the end of two months or less if your odds are lucky, I make you like vis. .'' He gestured his palm ahead, at the center.

  They were two fencers. Both highly competitive. However, the one on the left seemed more of a challenge, he was stealthy, quick and carefully precise at the same time somewhat mysterious, his tactics were brilliant and certainly unpredictable, his feet, the way he moved them, like they were as light as a feather, I'll admit a part of me at that moment wished I was in his shoes, fencing like that. His opponent was nearly as good as him, but I'd say six and a half out of ten. What? I did say nearly.

  He ounced he's sword at his abdomen then he turned around in what seemed like a flash and he swung he's sword right at his opponent's chest, it didn't hit him though, it appeared to be some warning, because his opponent's hands were out like a gun was infront of him. The guy then took off his helmet. He had a smug look on, with a malicious smirk. He was fairly tall and slender, dark brown hair, that was adorned on his head like a waterfall resting on his forehead, blue eyes that looked like electric blue in the light, penetrating from the large windows across from them, making his handome face look more appealing. Some part of me, succumbed so easily to formed this strange feeling of dislike, I disliked how neat and exact he was, from his astonishing fence skills to his perfect looks.

  Nevertheless, I couldn't hid my amazement. ''Wow. .'' was the only word to escape my mouth. I paused for a few seconds as I resumed and looked back at sir Pablo staring at him with deep affection, though a father proud of this presumption son, that type of look.

  ''Soooo. What you're saying is I'd get as good as charming over there.'' My head merely made an indication to that guy.

  He laughed hysterically, he laughed and laughed. 'Did I say something funny?' I wondered, having an awkward look on my face.

  ''What are you talking about I meant his friend.''

  ''Of course, didn't think so either.'' I muttered lazy staring at Mr. Pablo, he dried a tear out.

  ''So you're also comedian, not just a scripted actor.'' He said and I blankly stared at him, I glanced back at the guy as his opponent's helmet was off now, I instantly remembered seeing him somewhere. He was that Ryan Austin guy who had asked me for an autograph in Math, on Tuesday.

  He was as tall as that guy nearly as lean, bright hazel eyes, with a fine hair cut as well- he's hair was dyed into platinum blonde, trimmed down into a really short Afro, that added warm compliments to his deep amber skin. They appeared to be talking now. I turned back to Mr. Pablo who was staring at the left side fencers fence.

  ''Listen. wesley- Westlake. I'll have a note sent to your parents about your extra lessons, for now, join a mate who is not the least bit prepared to square you.''

  I nodded merely as I turned back to were I was positioned to fight. Tino was still there wielding his sword at that Baracks guy. He saw me approaching and met me halfway.

  ''I noticed you guys laughing, everything cool?''

  ''was the one laughing.'' I corrected.

  ''Oh. To one of his sharkish jokes.''

  ''Nope. Mine apparently. It's some comment about that guy over there. He told me I'd get as good as Austin and I thought he was referring to his friend.'' I didn't even finish, he was now hiding laughter too but miserably failing.

  I baffedly squinted at him, and he got the hint, ''Sorry bud', but no one's as good as him here. He's our best, never lost a fence fight, he's basically some cartoon ninja.''

  ''No kidding.'' I said glancing at him.

  ''I wish it were that easy to get as good as him. But he's just too good, that the only person who can beat Richards without getting humiliated is Mr. Pablo.'' He continued. ''Most of everyone had a hard start, but not him, before anyone learnt how to duck shots he knew how to fire them, avoid cleverly and retaliate. His resilience was almost as quick as a heart beat.

  ''He's a Natural, how lightly he moves his feet, almost makes him look like his dancing, his so precise, gentle yet deadly. His tough, very cautious, Mr. Pablo once made him fence two students just to see if he was good. He was infact! His movement with the sword is different from all of us, and he's repulsive yet generous look just adds on, Mr. Pablo gave him the nick name, . His literally Mr. Pablo's golden boy. .''

  ''Huh. What did you say he's Name was?''

  ''Richards- Branden Richards. .''

  ''Richards, any sort of relation to Gabe Richards?'

  ''Rock badgers' NBA player? Right on, that's his Dad.''

  ''Now that was me joking.'' I said lamely, furrowing my brows as I hid my interest.

  He chuckled. ''His Mom's some super Model from London. Lilah- Robinson- I think.''

  ''Roberts. .''

  ''Know her?''

  ''My Mom and her were friends. A while back. .''

  Tino looked at me with this pondering look, as if replaying my words in his mind, before forging a crooked smirk with his lips. ''I take it that you already have buddies?''

  ''If you're counting the kids I sit with at lunch.'' I slightly shrugged.

  He mildly chuckled. ''Actual friends.''

  ''We're being specific.'' I tried searching my mind for any I've made so far, but no one really wanted to be my friend, if I was to put it they just liked following me around.

  I shook my head.

  ''I don't mind being pals. . If you want any?'' He said with the warmest smile.

  ''Does this mean I get to call you Tino as well?''

  ''Of course. Bud.'' He tapped my shoulder.

  Nice. I had made a high school friend, finally. Speaking about friendship, made me recall the day I came here. The friend I wanted to make in the administration room. Hadn't seen her around ever since then, the school was huge I got that but surprisingly I'd thought I'd have a chance to see her again, she seemed friendly.

  ''Bud. Let me give you a tutorial of what I learnt when we firstly started.'' Tino interrupted my thoughts.

  I nodded. As he demonstrated good posture and the correct way of how to hold a sword.

  ''You don't wanna hold it at the edge but over here, firmly but lightly enough to make it swing to either sides.'' He demonstrated some air strategies as I copied.

  I thought once about the question I was about to ask and went for the words that sat at the tip of my tongue since he mentioned the word friend. ''Hey. Tino any chance you've seen, a girl with light brown hair and light hazel eyes.'' I asked randomly, thinking that was enough of a description to build an image in mind.

  ''Yeah. I've seen one of those, how about a couple. .'' He said adjusting my elbow.

  ''Of course.'' I sighed, it was obvious that multiple girls had that look.

  ''Does this girl have a name?''

  For a second I had a thread of hope. ''Um. . yeah. . .Delilah.''

  ''Sorry, bud don't know her.''