Bloodlines

Trey gave a small wave and grinned at some of his friends. He had deeply tanned skin and black hair whose length flirted with the dress code's rules. The neatly pressed Amberwood uniform gave him the illusion of all business, but there was a mischievous glint in his dark eyes that made me think he didn't really take being an aide seriously.

"Now," continued Ms. Terwilliger. "History is important because it teaches us about the past. And by learning about the past, you come to understand the present, so that you may make educated decisions about the future."

She paused dramatically to let those words sink in. Once she was convinced we were awed, she moved over to a laptop that was wired up to a projector. She pushed a few keys, and an image of a white-pillared building appeared on the screen at the front of the room.

"Now, then. Can anyone tell me what this is?"

"A temple?" someone called out.

"Very good, Mr. - ?"

"Robinson," the boy supplied.

Ms. Terwilliger produced a clipboard and scanned a list. "Ah, there you are. Robinson. Stephanie."

"Stephan," corrected the boy, flushing as some of his friends giggled.

Ms. Terwilliger pushed her glasses up her nose and squinted. "So you are. Thank goodness. I was just thinking how difficult your life must be with such a name. My apologies. I broke my glasses in a freak croquet accident this weekend, forcing me to bring my old ones today. So, Stephan-not-Stephanie, you're correct. It's a temple. Can you be more specific?"

Stephan shook his head.

"Can anyone else offer any insight?"

When only silence met Ms. Terwilliger, I took a deep breath and raised my hand. Time to see what it was like to be a real student. She nodded toward me.

"It's the Parthenon, ma'am."

"Indeed it is," she said. "And your name is?"

"Sydney."

"Sydney..." She checked the clipboard and looked up in astonishment. "Sydney Melbourne? My goodness. You don't sound Australian."

"Er, it's Sydney Melrose, ma'am," I corrected.

Ms. Terwilliger scowled and handed the clipboard to Trey, who seemed to think my name was the funniest thing ever. "You take over, Mr. Juarez. Your

youthful eyes are better than mine. If I keep at this, I'll keep turning boys into girls and perfectly nice young ladies into the descendants of criminals. So." Ms. Terwilliger focused back on me. "The Parthenon. Do you know anything about it?"

The others were watching me, mostly with friendly curiosity, but I still felt the pressure of being the center of attention. Focusing solely on Ms. Terwilliger, I said, "It's part of the Acropolis, ma'am. In Athens. It was built in the fifth century BC."

"No need to call me 'ma'am,'" Ms. Terwilliger told me. "Though it is refreshing to get a bit of respect for a change. And brilliantly answered." She glanced over the rest of the room. "Now, tell me this. Why on earth should we care about Athens or anything that took place over fifteen hundred years ago? How can that be relevant to us today?"

More silence and shifting eyes. When the unbearable quiet dragged on for what felt like hours, I started to raise my hand again. Ms. Terwilliger didn't notice and glanced back at Trey, who was resting his feet on the teacher's desk. The boy instantly dropped his legs and straightened up.

"Mr. Juarez," declared Ms. Terwilliger. "Time to earn your keep. You took this class last year. Can you tell them why the events of ancient Athens are relevant to us today? If you don't, then I'm going to have to call on Miss Melbourne again. She looks like she knows the answer, and think how embarrassing that will be for you."

Trey's eyes flicked to me and then back to the teacher. "Her name is Melrose, not Melbourne. And democracy was founded in Athens in the sixth century. A lot of the procedures they set into place are still in effect with our government today."

Ms. Terwilliger clasped her hand over her heart dramatically. "You were paying attention last year! Well, almost. Your date is off." Her gaze fell on me. "I bet you know the date democracy was started in Athens."

"The fifth century," I answered immediately.

That earned me a smile from the teacher and a glare from Trey. The rest of the class proceeded in much the same way. Ms. Terwilliger continued on with her flamboyant style and highlighted a number of important times and places that we were going to study in more detail. I found I could answer any question she asked. Some part of me said I should ration myself, but I couldn't help it. If no one knew the answer, I felt compelled to provide it. And each time I did, Ms. Terwilliger would say, "Trey, did you know that?" I winced. I really didn't want to make enemies on my first day. The other students watched me curiously when I spoke, which made me a little self-conscious. I also saw a few of them exchange knowing looks each time I answered, as though they were in on some secret I wasn't. That concerned me more than irritating Trey did. Did it sound like I was showing off? I was too unsure of the social politics here to understand what was normal and what wasn't. This was an academically competitive school. Surely it wasn't a bad thing to be educated? Ms. Terwilliger left us with an assignment to read the first two chapters of our textbook. The others groaned, but I was excited. I loved history, specifically the history of art and architecture. My homeschooling had been aggressive and well rounded, but that particular subject wasn't one my father had thought we needed to spend a lot of time on. I'd had to study it on my own time, and it was both startling and luxurious to think I now had a class whose sole purpose was to learn about this and that my knowledge would be valued - by the teacher, at least.

I parted ways with Eddie after that and went off to AP Chemistry. While I was waiting for class to start, Trey slid into a desk beside me.

"So, Miss Melbourne," he said, imitating Ms. Terwilliger's voice. "When will you be starting up your own history class?"

I was sorry Ms. Terwilliger had picked on him, but I didn't like his tone. "Are you actually taking this class? Or are you going to lounge around some more and pretend to be helping the teacher?"

This brought a grin to his face. "Oh, I'm in this one, unfortunately. And I was Ms. T's best student last year. If you're as good at chemistry as you are in history, then I'm nabbing you for a lab partner. I'll be able to take the whole semester off."

Chemistry was a crucial part of the Alchemists' trade, and I doubted there was anything in this class I didn't already know. The Alchemists had arisen in the Middle Ages as "magical scientists" trying to turn lead into gold. From those early experiments, they'd gone on to discover the special properties of vampire blood and how it reacted with other substances, eventually branching out into the crusade to keep vampires and humans separate from one another. That earlier scientific background, and our current work with vampire blood, made chemistry one of the main subjects of my childhood education. I'd received my first chemistry set when I was six. When other kids were practicing the alphabet, my father was grilling me with acid and base flash cards. Unable to admit as much to Trey, I averted my eyes and casually brushed hair from my face. "I'm okay in it."

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