Free The Keeper's Vow by B.F. Simone Page B

her
locker.
    “Tristan,” Katie said.
    “Katalina?”
    She sighed and turned away from his mocking
smile. How could she ever think he was menacing? The only thing he
was capable of being was irritating…annoying…pesky… and there’s
probably a hint of self-centered there somewhere.
    “You want to let up on the compliments?”
Even though she wanted to slam his face into a locker, she couldn’t
help but stare in awe. He really heard what she was just thinking.
She let out a short laugh. It was absurd. Pure insanity.
     
    A new type of doom and gloom hung over Katie
as she realized she didn’t do her English homework. She needed to
do the short journal entry on the first Act of Othello. That would
have given her enough points to skip out on the paper. Out of the
corner of her eye she could see Tristan shake his head.
    Mr. Rhineheart introduced himself to Tristan
and told him to take a seat wherever he’d like. Tristan picked the
seat on the other side of Katie. Brian’s seat. It didn’t escape
Katie that he wasn’t there.
    She pulled out her copy of, Othello, from her book-bag. Still, it was impossible to think of Mr.
Rhineheart as a guardian, he was a high school English teacher.
Stranger, was knowing some of the kids in her class were guardians,
just sprinkled in with normal kids. Had she really spent the last
two years of high school with kids who believed in monsters?
    “Katie? Katie—come in, Ms. Watts. Over.” Mr
Rhineheart said, doing his walkie-talkie impression. “Do you mind
sharing with Tristan? We’re out of Othellos.” he asked.
    “Sure,” she said, realizing she had been
staring at him the whole time. He looked at her a little longer
than usual, no doubt contemplating if he should move her to the
slower-paced class.
    “I’m pretty sure I know this play by heart,”
Tristan said.
    “Did you read it a lot at other
schools?”
    “No. How many times do you think I’ve been
in the eleventh grade?”
    She stared at him.
    “When I was a kid— how old do you think I
am? ”
    Katie looked away. She couldn’t help it if
she thought he was a kid in the 1800’s he said he was a
vampire.
    Tristan opened his mouth but changed his
mind.
    Mr. Rhineheart put on a theatrical reading
like he did every class, and Katie relaxed. She expected everything
to be different, but English was still Mr. Rhineheart’s chance at
being a Shakespearean actor.
    She paid attention more than usual as
Tristan pointed out his favorite parts. He marveled at the way Iago
manipulated Othello. “Genius,” he said. “Genius.”
    The next two periods (math and chemistry)
passed the same way: Tristan sat next to Katie, and he made her
look incredibly stupid. He was good at everything. It was
disgusting. He sat in class, took notes, answered questions…what
was he doing? Wasn’t this a hoax? Why was he trying so hard.
    Katie almost died when her Math teacher, Mr.
Right, walked over to their desk and told them to exchange numbers.
“If Tristan has questions about the school he can ask you, and if
you have questions about Math, you can ask him.”
    “I see, my only talent lies in knowing where
the classrooms are?” Katie said, eyeing Mr. Right.
    “Katie, Your talents go farther than spacial
recognition. I’ve seen you in the lunchroom haggling with the lunch
ladies, maybe you can get him a cheap lunch.”
    Katie smacked her head against the desk as
they laughed. “Aren’t teachers supposed to encourage students and build their self-esteem?”
    “Aren’t students supposed to have a hunger
for knowledge and a thirst for learning? —By the look on your face
I think you know what I’m getting at. Exchange numbers.” When Mr.
Right left Tristan was still laughing.
    “It wasn’t that funny.” Katie
said.
    “No, I’m laughing because he’s under the
impression that I’d ever give you my number.” Tristan laughed
harder while jotting down more problems.
    When the bell rang Katie was glad to go to
study hall. She