Chapter 5

The principal and I had another lovely conversation a while later where he handed me my class schedule and repeatedly told me that I had made the right choice by choosing Seville High.

Of course I chose to not mention that I had not chosen it, that up until three days ago I actually had no clue about my impending admission to the very refined institution. And I dared to call it refined because it was. It looked exactly like the kind of place where only a selected number of unique students could go. And by unique I mean students whose parents had a fortune to waste on ensuring that their sons were served chocolate fudge cake as a snack whenever their poor hearts desired.

I just happened to be one of those unfortunate bastards. 

The principal finally stood and extended his arm in greeting once more. He was a rather short fellow, shorter than me by a couple of inches, and his greying hair and equally grey suit made it clear what his profession was. I shook his hand and wondered whether he was this nice to all the students. I was no stranger to hypocritical behavior.

It was actually a tale as old as time in my book. People thought it was necessary to suck up to me and pretend that they liked me simply because of who I was, and I feared that this principal was one such individual.

After the meeting ended, he asked me to patiently wait outside while he called someone to show me to my quarters.

And why did they keep calling them my quarters?? It was a school after all. Weren't the rooms supposed to be called dorms or some other word that implied an enclosed space with the promise of a bunk bed and a roommate who I was not supposed to stand because he snored too much?

I patiently stood outside while the principal made a call, and then he came and joined me as we awaited the said escort.

" Oh and Jerald, your father thought it wise to keep your reputation as ...well, a prince under the mat. We want to avoid attention and all that. " He told me in his thick English accent as he made a dismissive motion with his hand.

I agreed with the decision, and it wasn't as if I wanted anyone to know who I was, I wanted some what of a fresh start. I wanted to experience life like I never had before. Even if it was in an isolated prep school filled with snobbish teenage boys.

In the minutes that followed I resolved to studying a painting hang in the hallway. It was some sort of countryside. A cottage stood under the setting sun and there was a rocking chair deserted outside. I keenly observed it, the drying grass whose normal green shade had turned to yellow, the trees in the periphery and the wind which blew the straws from the haystack away. I got too absorbed in observing it....and perhaps that was why I missed his appearance.The first time I met him is a moment I shall never forget. Well, it wasn't technically the first time since we had had some previous brief encounters. But to me, it had felt like I had been seeing him for the first time all over again. Only that this time he was closer for me to observe more accurately.

I noted him as he made the two final steps to where we were standing. His gait was confident, with one hand tucked into the pocket of his black pants. He was also dressed in the formal school uniform which consisted of a green blazer,a white dress shirt and a pair of black pants. There was also a black tie which bore two green stripes across it's width at the bottom. I very cautiously raised my eyes to his and found that he was indeed gazing right back.

He stopped....and I believe so did my heart.

There was something about his dark brown eyes that drew me in. There was that aura of calm again, and I just then realized that there was more than one piece of art in that specific location. And one was greatly more majestic than the other.

" You wanted to see me Sir? " he asked, but although he was talking to the principal, his eyes were glued to mine.

It's actually rather surprising now that I think of it...ever since my arrival there, I had heard a lot of people talk, I had listened to several voices say several things in the same accent. But it was his specifically that I found captivating.

Was it the smoothness of it or the confidence his voice portrayed? I still have no clue.

" Yes yes. This here is Mr. Jerald Amir, he just arrived in London and will be joining us for his studies here in Seville. I need you to show him to his quarters and then afterwards you should give him a tour of the place, familiarize him with our routines and ways, " the principal said all this with a broad smile and an arm wrapped around my shoulder. 

" And Mr. Amir, this is Mr. Calen Silverstein. He is the student's representative as well as the head of the student's board, a symbol of the kind of gentlemen we want Seville to represent. Trust me you're in very safe hands.." 

Calen Silverstein....his name was like a gift that I had been handed. He extended his arm in greeting and with the barest tilt of his lips he said, " The principal is prone to a bit of exaggeration. But he was right about one thing...." the grip he had on my hand tightened a fraction before he loosened it again, " ..you are indeed in very safe hands. "

I swallowed, licked my dry lips and tried to figure out the reason behind my now pounding heart. Wondering whether he could sense the unease which must have been radiating off of me in waves. 

" It's an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance Jerald. " he added. And the way he said my name was my undoing, the way the letters immaculately rolled over his tongue, that spark in his eyes when he genuinely smiled at me. I was so on edge that all I could utter was a strangled " Likewise, "  

I had been well trained in etiquette, and it demanded that I engage in a very brief conversation with him where I gave him some complement covered in sweet words. But I didn't..it was a small part of my culture and I had just laid it aside for the moment because this student's voice was messing with my brain.

" Very well, I shall let you go about your business. I've called Sophia and she's waiting to hand him his new uniform so better make that your first stop, " the principal then disappeared into his office, leaving us standing there in the hallway in a situation that I found strange because I wasn't feeling at all like myself.

" It's quite an eye turner, isn't it? " Calen suddenly asked. And for a moment I was confused, and then I realized that he was staring at the painting and I did the same.

" I think it's rather sad actually. " I was proud of myself for finally regaining the ability to form sentences. I turned to him, marvelled at how keenly he was staring at me. He narrowed his gaze a bit. 

" Is that so? And why if I may ask do you think that? " I shrugged and returned my attention to the art. Mostly because his visual inspection was sucking the air straight from my lungs.

" It's so.... lonely. Every detail although a part of a whole seems deserted, like the barely thatched roof and the broken leg of the rocking chair. You stare at the painting, at the abandonment of it all and you can't help but feel alone. " 

He said nothing. For two minutes straight there were no words uttered by him, I almost feared that he wasn't really listening, but then he chuckled softly.

" Your optimism is enlightening Mr. Amir, " I caught hint of the sarcasm in his voice and it made me chuckle as well. 

" Jerald, you can call me Jerald. "

" Is that what everyone else calls you? " He asked and I gave him a curt nod. Then I felt him press my hand again and it was then that I realized that we had both never let go. 

" Then I shall not call you Jerald. "

" Why not ? "

" Because it's not special. Your mailman calls you that so it's basically a tag with no actual unique significance. "

We didn't have a mailman but I didn't mention it. I simply wondered where this conversation was leading and why it was leading there. Whether this was how everyone in Seville related to one another.

Whether it wasn't.

" It's my name . "

" But it's not mine. "

Was it just me or was there an added intensity to the word mine? I surely hoped it was just me.

" So, what do you want to call me? " 

He thought about it for a while, then he gifted me with one of his half smirk half smiles. I was lost. 

" J.R , I think it has a nice ring to it, do you approve? " 

" I suppose so. " 

" Good, then it's decided. From now henceforth you are Jerald to everyone else but to me you are J.R..." There was a short pause during which he let go of my hand and pushed my hair from my forehead, keeping it in place with his hand. Gently.... almost intimately. Then with just as much gentleness and intimacy, he added in a soft whisper " My J.R. "

I sucked in a breath.