She Had Me at Hello
~Devanté POV~
The heavy storm quickly fizzled out into oblivion and the sun came back with a beaming vengeance, drying up any evidence of the rain, as if it was never there in the first place. Its radiation enveloped me, warming me instantly as if the sun was wishing me farewell. In the distance I heard footsteps coming towards me. They were vastly different to that of the officers so it couldn't have been him. His were heavy and clunky, whereas these new footsteps sounded a little lighter and sharper. They moved at a slow stride, as if they had all the time in the world to reach their destination. Their steps getting louder the closer they got. As they turned into the opening of the alleyway they came to an abrupt stop. Silence met my ears once more, as the intruder seemed to stand still for a moment, before erupting into a flurry of stomped steps making their way towards me, their shoes crashing loudly onto the concrete ground, over and over.
The intruder halted and dropped to their knees before me. I felt small, cold hands place themselves on both sides of my jaw, holding my face. They then quickly moved to my shoulders and began to shake me, gently but firmly. With all that I had just gone through that day, I had no desire to open my eyes. I had lost absolutely everything, got beaten, left for dead, then extended a life line, only for it to be snatched away, and finally left for dead once more. The hands tightened their grip around me and shook with more urgency. I wondered what some random passer-by wanted with a near dead man in an alleyway; what could possibly be so important right now? For a minute I considered whether I had already died and reached the afterlife, but I still felt every ounce of pain in my body and concluded this couldn't possibly be Heaven. Gradually, the grip on my shoulders grew tighter and tighter, until I felt their nails dig into me. Simultaneously, the shakes became more forceful. I found myself unable to ignore the strangers presence for much longer so I put the very last of my energy into opening my eyes. The sight that appeared before me was one made of my best dreams and worst nightmares. I didn't think it was possible to be in any more pain than I already was, but my heart began to ache due to the sudden wave of overwhelming emotion. Happiness? Relief? Panic? Sadness? My mind couldn't decide. I was so stunned I almost spoke out loud, but I restrained myself since I didn't want to die twice. Never in my life did I ever think I would meet Galena Strong again, and especially not like this. Yet here she was.
My whole life I had known Galena to be cool, calm, and collected. If she ever felt anything different she hid it incredibly well. But right then, as I looked into her eyes for the first time in years, I sensed a woman filled with fear. But not for herself, for me.
She picked me up off the floor by my shoulders and and sat me up against the wall. Just this movement alone sent a shock of pain down my spine.
She hastily pulled her phone out from her pocket and immediately dropped it face first onto the concrete floor. Her hands were shaking so much she struggled to pick it back up. Once it was back in her grip, she quickly unlocked it, revealing large cracks on the screen. Galena didn't bat an eye, as if her phone being smashed didn't phase her at all. I could see how in the present moment it may not be the most important thing that was happening, but if it were me, all I would be able to think about was how much I couldn't afford to fix that, and how I would never be able to recover financially all because of a little slip of the fingers.
Galena pulled up this app called 'Rollora' that I had only ever heard about on the internet. It's a high quality taxi service with a divine limit of Class 3. She quickly orders a taxi and puts her phone away, then lifted her head up to meet my eyes, hers still filled with fear and urgency. She turned her head to glance out to the opening of the alleyway through to the street, and then back at me with her eyebrows knotted. I could see Galena's mind at work, thinking deeply about how she would get me from this alleyway to the street beyond, since walking was clearly not an option for me. She looked me up and down and presumably decided carrying me was out of the question. I was fairly thin but still much larger and taller than Galena. She was barely able to dwell on the dilemma before the taxi arrived and Galena ran over to meet the driver. I was in shock at how quick it was to catch a ride, not even a full minute passed since Galena had ordered one. The driver had a stocky build and a very large frame, he wore an all black suit. Galena typed something on her phone and showed it to the man, then looked back and pointed at me. Immediately the man made his way over to me, grabbed me by my waist and hoisted me over his massive shoulder. This action sent an indescribable jolt of pain through my ribs, my eyes began to water and I felt light headed. With every bouncy step he took, my ribs crashed onto his shoulder, sending immense pain throughout my torso and back so agonising I passed out.
I opened my eyes what felt like a second later sitting upright in the backseat of the taxi strapped in with a seatbelt next to Galena, the car was moving frantically, weaving in and out of traffic. Before I could muster up the strength to ask Galena where she was taking me I blacked out again. The next second I was waking up in a white hospital room, my entire body still ached and my head was pounding. I was laying in a less than comfortable bed and all I could hear was the faint beeping of a monitor nearby. I opened my eyes and was immediately blinded by the harsh white lights. Once adjusted, I turned my head slightly to see Galena in medical scrubs napping in an armchair. Her back was completely straight up against the chair and both feet were planted firmly on the ground. Her hands tightly clasped and laying on her lap while her head was positioned carefully against the wall directly behind her. Even in rest she remained as poised as she appeared in my memories. However, the longer I stared the more she began to appear stiff, as if trained to restrain herself. My mind began to wander with visions of the Galena I once knew, twisting and turning with the Galena I saw before me, Without realising it, I slowly began to drift away into unconsciousness.
-------------------------- 6 Years Ago ---------------------------
Most of the days I had spent at Crestview were almost completely identical to each other. So much so that they all blurred together and my mind could barely tell when one day ended and when the next began. For my first 4 years, the only good thing that had ever happened at that school was when apple crumble was added to the canteen lunch menu. But the moment I met Galena Strong was one I remembered more vividly than any other, I call it the moment of all moments.
I heard her name before I ever saw her face. I had just left my form room at the far side of the building near the top floor where hardly anybody went. My form room was made up of myself and the very few Class Two students that attended Crestview Academy. Despite all the other form classes only containing students within the same year group, mine included students of all ages and was completely separate to the rest of the school. The corridor leading up to the classroom was completely dark, as the lightbulbs at that side of the building were never changed and thus non-functional. To top it off, the classroom heaters had broken years prior, and since no one had bothered to fix it the room was always freezing cold. Especially through the bitter cold Winter. The only thing that remained up there was an old vending machine.
Every single morning I was forced to sprint from that top floor remote corner, past the abandoned classrooms, through the corridor, past the old vending machine, and all the way down the stairs to the bottom few floors of the building where most of the year 11 classes took place. Despite running as fast as I could and frequently turning up to class sweaty and out of breath, I was almost always late to class and given a detention. 3 out of 5 mornings we had mathematics, a subject I always greatly excelled in, continuing to win numerous algebra competitions on behalf of my school throughout my years at Crestview. My maths teacher Mr. Parker was an arrogant man often going off on wild tangents about his adventures in exotic countries, never failing to find a way to brag about the enormous wealth his family came from.
Despite his boasting, Mr. Parker was a well respected teacher beloved by many students and was very passionate about mathematics. He took great joy in finding the natural talent or potential in a student and working tirelessly to hone it. As a reward to those top students, Mr. Parker would take those with the highest marks on a trip to Ibiza, so it was no surprise the kids loved him.
Despite my past experience I joined Mr. Parker's class with some glimmer of hope that he would appreciate me for my obvious talent in a subject he himself was so passionate about. At the very least I expected he wouldn't pretend I didn't exist and for once in my time at Crestview I was pleasantly surprised. Even with getting detention every morning, I looked forward to Mr. Parker's classes more than anything. It was the only hour of my school day where I was able to raise my hand to answer questions without fear of getting ignored or being looked upon with too much disgust. On top of that it seemed Mr. Parker was somewhat excited to pick me and often looked at me in a confused amazement when I would inevitably get the answer right. Although the Class Three students were never very happy to hear my contributions. I had gotten used to being ignored and having teachers and students avoid eye contact or pretend I didn't exist in the hallways or in class, but a few students made it their duty to remind me of just how unwanted I was in their space. Judas sat right in front of me in Mr Parker's class and would often turn around to give me a look of contempt, or make a joke about me to his friends that would always be met with over the top laughter. I never retaliated out of fear of having Mr. Parker lose respect for me and because I had enough detentions as it was.
One particular morning right after being given detention, I sat down at my usual seat on a table by myself well in the back of the classroom (T-24 hours to the moment of all moments).
Just as my bag hit the desk and I had landed in my seat, Judas' head whipped around to face me. Mr. Parker was at the board with his back towards the class, loudly explaining differentiation and writing down formulas.
"Who invited the street rat?" Judas said sneeringly, Just loud enough for the entire class and Mr. Parker to hear, but if I'm honest, the entire school could have heard and it still wouldn't have been loud enough for anyone to come to my defence.
Naturally the whole class threw their heads back in laughter as if Dave Chappelle stepped in the building, then immediately went back to ignoring my presence.
But what was different about this morning was that I could sense an air of excitement about something and it surrounded every student in the classroom. Whispers at lightning speed ran through the room like a swarm of bees, leaving them all buzzing. There were distracted eyes, moving lips and turned chairs where there was usually a quiet classroom hung on every one of Mr. Parkers words.
Out of curiosity I leaned forward to catch a bit of Judas' conversation with his twin sister Justice. A blonde haired blue eyed girl that looked identical to her brother.
"There's a new girl in our year and she's just been relegated from Class Four!" She told him eagerly.
"Can you believe this? She probably still has friends that are Class Four, family even, this could get us into so many places Judas"
Judas' jaw hung open in pure shock and excitement. At the sound of this revelation I immediately leaned back into my chair, disinterested in the news and not at all looking forward to having to come in to contact with yet another upper class citizen who thinks I shouldn't be alive.
The rest of the day went by in its usual uneventful breeze, with a sprinkle of added chatter about the new girl, but before I knew it I was piling out of the school gates with a hundred other students desperate to get out of that place. The other students chatted and laughed as they made their way over to their expensive family cars lined up one after the other that completely covered the streets surrounding the school. Each one driven by a middle aged woman surgically enhanced to look 25 that clearly had all the time and money most would dream of to dedicate to their appearance. I walked over to the bus stop a few minutes away from school and threw on some headphones to drown out the loud chatter from noisy students huddled together in groups all around me as I waited the usual 15 minutes for my bus to arrive.
(T-16 hours to the moment of all moments).
90 minutes and two changeovers later, I got off a third bus and walked the rest of the way home. Every morning and evening I passed by several blocks of flats with broken doors and windows. Litter lined every street, every corner, every patch of grass in this side of town.
I finally got to my block of flats and headed straight to the lift, I pressed the button for the 8th floor and as I waited I listened to the grating sound of metal scraping metal as the lift descended from the ground floor, I always figured it was just a matter of time before someone got stuck in that thing, I just hoped I wasn't around when it happened. Eventually the doors sprung open and I walked my way across the length of the corridor to my front door. I looked around for people and made sure I was alone before I put my key in the lock and turned the handle like my dad always taught me, you could never be too safe in this place.
My dad and I lived in a tiny one bedroom flat on the outskirts of London. Since there was only one bedroom my dad slept on the sofa. I constantly insist he takes the bedroom but he refuses. He says letting me get a good nights sleep means I do better at school, which means I get a good job, which means we get an advancement on the hierarchy, so sleeping on the sofa is an investment in our future. Some nights I would lay in bed and stare at the ceiling in the dark as an incredible weight would slowly creep onto my chest. It felt like a giant rock made of the guilt of being in that bed while my dad takes the sofa, mixed with the insurmountable pressure of constantly succeeding so I can feel like I deserved to sleep in it.
Dad never got home earlier than 10pm but I refused to eat dinner without him, so I would spend my time doing homework and studying. I liked studying simply because I was good at it, I didn't enjoy doing things that made me feel like a failure. Plus, focusing on work helped me keep my mind off how hungry I was. I would fill up on water to stop myself from eating dinner before my dad got home. Other than needing to pee every 20 minutes, it always worked for the most part. Besides, it was worth it to spend a bit more time with my dad.
(T-11 hours until the moment of all moments). Finally I heard the faint sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door and I immediately got to my feet. I ran over to the door as quick as possible and made it there just as my dad was locking it behind him. He greeted me with a hug and a familiar smile before I tried wrestling his coat and bag out of his hands.
"Dad just let me help you put that away"
"No Devanté, I'm sure you have better things to do with your time"
I watched as he groaned in pain just trying to hang his coat up. Dad worked 12 hours a day, 6 days a week at a steel factory 40 miles out of the city. It was pure manual labour for hours on end and he had done it for over 20 years at that point.
I watched as he slowly hobbled into the room with a hand placed on the base of his back for support, he then slumped down at the table with another groan of pain. Dad had chronic pain for years because of his job and everybody knew it, yet he would never admit it in front of me. Not wanting to watch my dad in that state, I ran off to the kitchen to get dinner ready. I was never the best cook but since mum was never around I made sure to always be the one to prepare dinner, I didn't want any extra stress to fall onto my dad.
Not long later I placed down two plates of pasta onto the table and sat down opposite dad. Just as I did, I saw dad in the same position I left him in, struggling to get his shoes off.
"Let me help you get those off"
"No, I don't want you touching my dirty boots, you go to Crestview remember, you're too good for something like that"
With that I sat down on the other side of the table and dad left his work boots on for dinner.
Every night my dad begged to hear all about how my day at school was. He would always ask the same types of questions.
"Do you have any new friends?" He would ask.
"Sure, I'm friends with everyone" I would lie.
"I bet everybody thinks you're really talented"
"Yeah, I'm definitely popular"
"Did you get your grades back for your biology test?"
"Yep I was top of my class, my teacher called me a marvel" I said. Although that first part actually wasn't a lie.
With every lie the wider the smile on his face got. My dad had a hard life, being born and raised a Class Two citizen, he had little opportunity to be properly educated. The only hope someone in that position has to get by is to work some dead end job growing crops or in a factory until they eventually bite the dust. The only happiness dad ever got was from hearing about my accomplishments. I couldn't ever tell him the truth, I never wanted to make him unhappy. No one was prouder of me for getting into a Class Three school than he was. How could I repay him for all he's done for me by sitting him down after a gruelling day at work and basically telling him I was ruining our chances of a better life by not working hard enough to make all of my teachers recognise my talents, or by not making any high class friends that could help me get a job someday.
"I'm so proud of you Devanté, I just know your going to get us an advance on the hierarchy" my dad asserted, all while beaming brighter than ever.
I looked down at my plate and aimlessly moved some pasta around with my fork. After a few moments of silence, I asked dad about his day at the factory.
"I don't want to burden you with that stuff" He replied.
If only he knew how much of a burden I was to him.
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The next morning I was up on the top floor like I normally was at the start of every school day waiting for my form room class to end, wondering how it was somehow colder in that room than it was outside (T-0 to the moment of all moments). Our form room teacher was Miss Stockwell, an ex Class Two citizen that was advanced to Class Three due to her incredible work in the military, once she turned 50 she moved to teaching. Before meeting her I thought she would likely be the only teacher here that would be able to appreciate the talents of the very few Class Two students at Crestview, having climbed up the hierarchy herself through nothing but her hard work and talents. After meeting her it was clear nobody hated Class Two citizens more than she did. She despised the idea of Class Two students being welcomed at Crestview as she firmly believed integration of the two classes would lead to the demise of Class Three. So every morning she lectured us about how we were born with a sickness and the only cure was working hard and having faith in the divine to help us, something that is most definitely not required for form class
This particular morning, Miss Stockwell was lecturing us with some extra enthusiasm. Whispers around the classroom suggested it was because of the arrival of the ex- Class Four student.
As usual, I spent the entire class staring at the clock waiting for period 1 to begin.
I always made sure my things were packed up and ready to go 5 minutes before class ended so I could bolt down to Mr. Parker's class in hopes of not being late again. Even though I was never successful, I never stopped trying to make it on time. Soon enough class ended and I jumped out of my seat. As always I was the first one out the door, I couldn't have my classmates in my way slowing me down. I bolted past the corridors and abandoned classrooms in record speed. I could already feel my legs burning and my heart racing but I kept running. I sprinted straight past the old vending machine on the way to the stairs that lead down to the ground floor but something made me stop dead in my tracks. I held my chest and took a second to catch my breath before slowly turning around.
In front of me was easily the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She had shiny, dark curly hair that framed her face and fell to her shoulders, crystal clear skin and moon shaped eyes that resembled the night sky, heavenly yet haunting. She stood elegantly poised, with her back straight and feet planted firmly on the ground, calmly sipping a coke like she had all the time in the world before class started. I figured she was new since her uniform was pristine and worn correctly, her top button was done up and her tie and skirt were the right length. She definitely couldn't have been here long since most people at school stopped bothering to follow the uniform rules after the second day. I could feel my heart through my chest, I had stopped running yet it was beating louder than ever, I thought about continuing on with going to class but my feet wouldn't move. After a few awkward moments, she finally looked over at me. Our eyes met and I held my breath, her eyes were so mesmerising I could barely hold my gaze, yet I couldn't make my self look away either, almost like staring at the sun.
Finally, she broke the silence with a simple-
"Hello".
Her voice was sweet, not an ounce of coldness. This wasn't a tone I was used to being addressed with at Crestview, everybody else I had ever interacted with always met me with a touch of callousness, there was always a hint of disgust hidden in their words.
With that thought I began to wonder what Class the mystery girl was in. Usually in this place I would assume Class Three, but she was up on top floor so perhaps not. My eyes panned down to her slender fingers wrapped around the can of coke just as I opened my mouth to respond. I noticed a gorgeous silver Rolex watch sitting comfortably on her wrist. Instantly, my question on her Class status was answered and I stopped myself before any words could escape my lips.
"Hello" She repeated with that same sweet tone but with an added touch of concern.
Half of me desperately wanted to greet her back, to get to know her, or even just to hear that warm voice again, but my other half knew better. I had spent the last 4 years surrounded by upperclassmen that thought me worthless, as if there was no value in looking at me, let alone talking to me. What good could have possibly come from engaging with someone like her, who's to say she's any different. She continued looking at me with intrigue, waiting for me to say something, but I'd learnt there was nothing to be said between Class Two and Class Three citizens. So I turned around and kept running down to class, trying to remove her image from my mind just as I had removed her from my sight, but the truth was she was all I thought about as I ran down to Mr. Parkers class, and all I thought about when I closed my eyes that night in my undeserved bed. Just something about the way she said 'Hello'.