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Teresa Chapter Eight
"My Father's Daughter"
Location: Greenhill
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Greenhill
Academy is known throughout the Jowston City States area as being one of the
most exclusive private schools of the land. Founded only a few years after
the city itself was built, the school encouraged willing students from all
cities and countries to study within its halls in the hopes of succeeding in
helping these pursue their favored career, whether it be in politics, runes,
weaponry or even magic. In a recent poll, it had been estimated that roughly
93% of the students who have successfully graduated from the Greenhill
Academy had achieved successful professions as well.
- excerpt from the "History of Greenhill"
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Teresa
hated Greenhill Academy.
Miserably,
she concentrated on her physics textbook, tried hard to blot out the
eyes and voices of the students around her, failed. Her professor's voice, a
high squeaky tenor that fitted its owner, a thin spectacled wizard with
straggly hair, droned on and on, doing nothing to drown out the sounds she
didn't want to hear.
It wasn't
fair.
".....daughter of the mayor......."
"...pity
her, doesn't look like.......belong....."
".....probabably
the snotty type...."
"...just
avoid....."
Teresa squirmed
down lower on her chair, wishing that she could crawl under the table and
hide there for the rest of the semester, or just completely disappear.
Shut up!
She wanted to
scream. Three weeks into Greenhill Academy High, and she had yet to make any
friends. Not that anyone went out of their way to so much as look at
her as she passed by. The whisperings didn't start until she walked away. No
one talked to her. No one smiled, no one gave her a second glance. From the
regular school bullies to the popular and prettily dressed cheerleaders, she
may as well didn't exist for all they cared.
Except when
they thought she didn't hear. Then the gossips would start. How mayor Alec
did so-and-so with this-or-that-city leader. How their parents tell them not
to mess about with the Wisemail family, not to be pulled into whatever
intrigue or political affairs that went on in that family.
All because
she was the mayor's daughter.
Whispering.
"......Mother said she's......"
"Ignore
her, I say......."
".....bad news....."
Shut up!
Shut up! Shut up!
"...do
you understand, Miss Wisemail?"
Teresa
started up guiltily. The murmurs had ceased. Professor Cranley stood before
her desk, huge book in one hand and a piece of chalk in the other. "I
suggest you try to concentrate on the matters at hand instead of daydreaming
about other unrelated subjects, shall we?"
Silence. A
pin dropped, but Teresa didn't hear it.
"Yes
sir." She murmured, staring red-faced down at her hand.
Professor
Cranley nodded sternly, then moved off for other students to scold.
The
whisperings started up again. Teresa stared down hard at the pencil in
her hand and resisted the urge to cry.
Almost
absentmindedly, her pen formed word onto paper.
Pariah.
The
story of her life.
It just
wasn't fair.
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It was almost the same as she
had remembered it. The same shade of green and white, the same
dust-eroded chalkboard, the same wooden chairs that she had spent nearly
half her childhood in, scribbling down lectures of the past teachers she
had been under. Only she wasn't a teen anymore.
But how different had she been
before than what she is now?
It was an empty classroom; now
used only for important lectures given by special lecturers or visiting
specialists. But ten years ago, it had been one of the centers of
Teresa's life. She had learned here, studied here; graduated. It had
been one of the best times.
It had also been one of the
worst.
People can be so cruel
sometimes. And they can be at their most cruel when they go out of their
way not to be at all.
Teresa supposed she could
understand why her classmates had done what they did. To be the mayor of
Greenhill was a hard task; not all the decisions made were necessarily
the most popular, and Alec Wisemail had been a hard man at times. giving
the best he could according to what he thought was best for the city;
and expecting others to do the same as well. No one wanted to be
involved if they could, and that included anyone distinctly related to
the Wisemail clan.
Pariah. Outcast. From junior
high to her senior year, that had been the sum of Teresa's existence.
Always left out in projects and plays, in tennis and social works. Hurt
and confused, Teresa chose to revolve her life around her father and
eventually, the politics that soon became her career.
Shaking her head off these
unwanted memories, Teresa strode out of the empty classroom, to continue
her monthly rounds of the Academy. Behind her, the classroom remained as
it was; empty and silent.
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Teresa stiffened. Instinctly,
she knew why the class had suddenly quieted down; why the professor
suddenly stiffened and began delivering the lecture in a
self-conscious, slightly awkward manner. She refused to turn to look
behind her; she didn't need to.
Alec Wisemail sat in an empty
chair at the end of the classroom; silent, yet still exceeding an aura
of strength and power around him. She could picture him; right leg
crossed atop the other, hands folded on the small squared table top,
leaning forward with no expression at all on his face. The professor
stumbled slightly, caught himself in the nick of time, and continued
to squawk.
Teresa felt sweat trickling
down her back, dampening the cardigan blouse that composed
part of the Greenhill Academy uniform. She knew that it was on her
Alec's eyes strayed to the most, knew what expectations he had
for her, and how high those expectations were. Those eyes that held
sway over city-state councils were now concentrated at her, and she
was afraid.
Afraid that she might not
meet up to what he thought she could be.
Alec's weren't the only eyes
trained on her. From the corner of her eye, she could catch some of
her classmates shooting her quick glances, only to look away moments
later, as if they'd done something wrong. She didn't know what they
were expecting, but they were expecting something of her as well.
Swallowing hard, Teresa muted
out her surroundings and focused on the leather-bound philosophy book
she was supposed to be reading.
Failure was not an option.
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The class was noticeably
quiet. The current professor in charge of the lecture, one of
Teresa's colleagues, gave her a self-conscious smile, straightened her
bun and continued on with the discussion, her voice a touch stronger
than before. In front of her, more than just a few students squirmed,
and some sneaked a peek at her, to assure themselves that she was
really in the classroom, then snapped back to attention with the
subject at hand.
How the roles have been
changed now. She was the surveyor now and not the surveyee; she no
longer needed to worry about the several eyes looking in her
direction; she was doing the looking. But sometimes it was hard not to
look back to see who was looking at her, jusging her merits and
shortcomings, even after the lonely years that followed her father's
death.
Teresa only stayed for a few
more minutes, mentally taking down notes of the class procedures,
before quietly slipping out of the classroom. She fancied she could
hear the class breathe a huge sigh of relief - students and teacher
included.
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"Excuse me?"
Teresa started visibly. She
had gotten so used to not being noticed, it was a startling change
for her to be noticed now. She looked up from the lunch she was
eating. Standing in front of her was a boy older than she was. A
senior, she guessed. Brown hair, blue eyes. He smiled. She couldn't
help but smile back. "I was just wondering....I've just
transferred here, and I was wondering where the weaponry class is
located. I hope I'm not bothering you?..."
"Oh, no!" Teresa
blurted. How long had she hoped to be bothered, until it became
nothing more as a fancy? "No problem at all. Ah....it's down
the left corridor, third classroom on the right."
"Thanks! Didn't quite
catch your name. I'm Darin Llere."
"I'm
Teresa." Inwardly, she cringed. He was likely to regret talking
to her once he knew her name. Most people did. "Teresa Wisemail."
She added, just in case he didn't figure it out yet.
The hundred-watt smile
never faltered. "Well, please to meet you, Teresa. Your
father's the mayor in these parts, right?" Open mouthed, all
Teresa could do was nod. "Oh, damn, I think I'm already late.
See you around, Teresa!" With that final parting shot, Darin
took off for the class he was about to miss.
Teresa stared after him.
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She wondered what he was
doing now. As he had been a senior, they didn't have any classes
together, yet he was always ready to greet her with a smile when
they passed each other in the hall, even shared a lunch table on a
few occasions. He must have had known why other students treated
her the way they did during his first few days, but his attitude
around her was always friendly. Though they hadn't been close enough
to be good friends, she had missed him when he finally graduated a
year later.
It
had been good to find a smile among the stares, even for just a
short while.
And
here she was. Mayor of Greenhill, finishing what her father had
started all these years. He's probably laugh if he knew.
Teresa walked up the large staircase, dismissing her daydreams for
the meantime. There was still a job to do.
You always did say how much I looked like mom, dad.
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"You're not happy
with studying in the Greenhill Academy, are you Teresa?"
"Yes. I mean, no. I
mean....I like studying there, I enjoy the lectures, it's
just......"
"It's because of how
they treat you there, isn't it?"
"I....well......sort
of."
"There's no 'sort
of', Teresa. It's either you know something for a fact, or you
don't."
"Yes, sir."
"And as for
this.....I have to say that I'm sorry for your predicament. It was
my position that caused your classmates to treat you that way.
Just remember that they don't hate you. The treaties I'm involved
in are tricky, and there are a lot of vocal pro and con parties on
the side as well. Parents don't want their children to appear
like they're taking sides on the matter. Do you understand?"
"I...yes, sir. It's
hard sometimes.....but I'll try."
A pause. A quiet laugh.
"Well. Not only
do you look like your mother, you're beginning to sound just like
her too." A heartbeat. "Teresa......I believe your
spring break is coming up soon. Would you....like me to show
you around my office, learn what I do there? It has always
been interesting for me, and I hope it would be for you too."
"Oh! I'd love that,
dad!" For the first time in a long while, Teresa smiled
happily.
For the first time in a
long while, Alec Wisemail smiled back.
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