He’d still been traumatized by and grieving over the loss of his father, terrified of this new school, the new life he’d found himself living. From the first moment he’d set foot in Moraine Academy, he’d known he didn’t belong, and was sure he never would. The only way he and his little sister Karlene got into the prestigious private school was because his mother’s employer, Mrs. Burton, had pulled strings and gotten them scholarships. And the only reason she’d done it was because it was the closest school to her mansion, and she wanted her housekeeper available in the mornings, not driving her kids to school.
They’d had to walk the four miles to school, since there were no buses going there. All the other kids got dropped off or, if they were old enough, drove themselves. As he and Karlene trudged onto the school property, he’d seen the scornful looks the other kids gave them, checking out their cheap, bargain-basement clothes and no-name shoes.
Karlene had noticed, too.
“I hate it here already,” she’d said, loud enough to prove she didn’t care who heard. Kiah hadn’t replied. Normally he’d have tried to give it a positive spin, but just then he was overwhelmingly sad, really low on optimism, and couldn’t in good faith disagree. He, too, was wishing he were back in their old school in Scarborough, surrounded by the friends they’d made the year before.
He’d walked Karlene to her class then made his way to the room he was assigned to, getting there just as the bell rang. Knowing the other kids would have seats picked out already, he waited by the door until the rest of the students had settled into their chairs, then looked up and found the last empty seat in the room.
On his way there he kept his head down, not making eye contact with anyone, yet aware of how everyone in the room was staring at him. The other kids’ whispers surrounded him like the buzz of bees. Even all these years later he still remembered it, clear as day.
“We have a new student,” Mrs. Nowac said, once he was seated. “Hezekiah Langdon. Please make him welcome.”
“Hezekiah?” The derision in the boy’s voice was accompanied by a kick to the back of Kiah’s chair. “What kind of stupid name is that?”
The wave of laughter rippling through the class hardly mattered. Kiah already knew he had no business there. All he could do was wish things could go back to how they’d been—before his father died, and his mother had totally lost control. He’d thought coming to Canada would be exciting but it had all gone to hell. His father had been the one who held everything together and gave his children the love and support they needed, while keeping his wife’s anger and bitterness in check.
Now that he was gone, the world was a bleak, frightening place.
If Kiah had had a magic wand, he’d have waved it and been back on St. Eustace. Probably running on the beach, or playing cricket with his friends.
“It’s Biblical. Hezekiah was a king of Judea. You should know that, Justin. Isn’t your grandpa a pastor?”
Kiah had been half-aware of the girl in front of him turning in her chair but thought she’d just been staring and giggling like all the others. When he heard her defending his name, he’d looked up and, for the first time, his gaze met Mina’s.
She was so cute his heart stumbled over itself. Her hair swung around her fine-boned oval face like a curtain of amber, and her wide-set chocolate brown eyes, tilted slightly at the corners, twinkled. Later on, he learned she’d gotten her eye coloring and shape from her Korean mother, while the lighter hair had come from a trip to the beauty salon. Not that her hair was as dark as her mom’s. Mr. Haraldson, her father, was almost white-blond, and in Kiah’s estimation Mina was a perfect combination of her Korean and Scandinavian heritages.
“That’s enough now, class.” Mrs. Nowac had shushed them, causing Mina to turn back around and face front. Then the teacher started talking about the first lesson of the day.
“Smart-ass. I’ll deal with you later, Mina Haraldson.” Justin obviously didn’t like being upstaged, and whispered the threat just loud enough for Mina to hear.
“Just try it,” she replied, without turning around.
And despite his mother’s firm injunction to keep his head down and not make any trouble, on pain of a thorough thrashing, Kiah turned and gave Justin a scowl.
“Yeah, Justin.” He made no effort to temper the swing and tempo of his accent the way he’d learned to do since moving to Canada, and the name rolled out like a dirty word. “Just try it.”
When Mina glanced back at him and grinned, he’d suddenly felt better, as though life just might be worth living after all.
She hadn’t had to befriend him. She was from a well-respected family and popular in school, not a misfit like he was, yet she’d gone out of her way to make him feel welcome and, after a little while, her friends had accepted him, too.
His mother hadn’t been pleased about their friendship. Not that there was anything that made his mother happy.
“You have no business making time with that girl,” she’d said, shaking her finger in his face. “You an’ she no have nothing in common, and if she father find out ’bout you, he not goin’ be happy.”
“We’re just friends,” he’d protested, knowing how truly upset his mother was, from the way her English deteriorated into St. Eustace patois.
“Make sure you keep it that way,” she’d said, turning back to the stove and rescuing the ripe plantains frying in the pan before they burned. “We don’t need no trouble
