Are you Kidding me?

The first time I read Little Red Riding Hood in first grade, I spit the half chewed pretzels in my mouth everywhere. The kids in my class all stared at me like I was crazy. Nothing new. In fact the fact that they even looked at me was an improvement. Still, ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME! Me, taken down by a wolf, really? But then again I do suppose technically it was a wolf that was my undoing in the end. Technically.

Still though, I should probably back up. My name is Maya. I am a fourteen year old Indian girl. On the outside. On the inside...I don't know what the hell I am nor do I care to find out. I used to be a girl named Destiny but that is far, far, faaaaaaaar behind me. Oh, and I hate Farytales. Absolutely hate 'em. And don't you even get me started on Disney movies. The only reason I was ever reading Red Riding Hood was because of a stupid school assignment.

Anyway, I meander through the halls searching for my locker. My locker this year is nestled in the really far corner and getting past all the friend group clumps to get there is a pain in the behind. Finally, I spot it. Unfortunately though, I'm going to have to get past a bunch of guys to get to it. I sigh and walk up to them. "Move."

They are talking really loudly, about a Cardinals game or something. "MOVE" This time I shove one of the guys. I finally catch their attention and they stumble to the side mumbling apologies. Really. I just don't get guys. Or girls for that matter. Or more like middle schoolers in general.

I reach for my locker but before I can enter in the password I hear a cheerful "hi Maya!" Oh great. Mia saunters over to me. "Hows your life going? Good job getting past those guys!" The constantly chipper, extremely chatty, super optimist. And the opposite of me.

"Yeah, well I didn't see you coming to help."

"You know I'm not good with guys." She attempts to pout.

"Anyway, in answer to your question my life is rather dreary at the moment."

"Why!?"

"Cause, my little sister couldn't SHUT UP about the Sleeping Beauty movie she saw at her friend's birthday party ALL WEEKEND."

"Awww. But Anebell's so cute. Besides what's wrong with fan girling? God knows her older sister's done her fair share."

"But I fan girl about USEFUL things."

"Anime is useful?" She raises one eyebrow in disbelief.

Ugh, no fair, my eyebrows can't do that. "Well she just gets excited over stupid things like a stupid prince saving a STUPID princess!"

"Aww. Come on don't say stupid."

"But it is!"

"You know, I always wondered why you never liked princesses."

"Because they're-"

"Don't you dare say stupid one more time. How would YOU like it if someone called your favorite anime stupid? Anyway, catch you later. Class starts in five minutes."

Leaving behind a sputtering me, my annoying friend Mia makes her exit.

My first class is English, ugh. More independent and dependent clauses, yay. I make my way to the classroom, dogging students here and there. Finally I reach it, Ms. Barnible's eighth grade English class. Every once in a while some kid decides to be funny and call her Ms. Barnicle. Her response? To give them the ten page packet on grammar she has specially reserved as a punishment just for that.

I open the door and make my way to my back row corner seat. As I do I notice that Ms. Barnible's desk it empty. Strange. By now nearly the whole class is filled and Ms. Barnible is a stickler for tardiness, even with herself.

I get to my seat and begin unloading my books. Right now we are reading a book called the Crucible that basically highlights how humans being stupid, conniving, stubborn, and deceptive was what was responsible for the Salem witch hunts in the 1600. It really goes to show, humans can really suck.

I take out the necessary materials for class and glance up again. Still no sign of Ms. Barnible. I sit at my desk only half listening to kids chat about the latest popular songs, periodically checking the clock and Ms. Barnible's desk.

At a quarter till eight I start to get worried. At ten till eight I start to get really worried. At five till eight I am starting to seriously freak out.

"Hey, if she doesn't come by ten minutes into class can we all just leave?" One guy asked. Everyone began jostling each other and joking about just walking out of school and getting Starbucks. Although I was kind of worried I was also glad to miss time studying clauses.

Just then the guy by me drops his pencil. I glance up. He has a shaggy mane of silver blond hair. It isn't to his shoulders but it nearly is. Not someone ever I've talked to before. I reach for the pencil and as I'm handing it to him our eyes meet. I freeze for a moment. I stare into those brown-no tinged with ruby-no blood red eyes. predator. The word comes unbidden to my mind. A second later he breaks contact and snatches his pencil back with a muttered thanks.

I hand it back mutely, my mind numbed with shock. How... Where... Why... Questions whirl through my head. Those eyes, those eyes. Those hauntingly, piercingly fearsome eyes that seem to bore into your very soul and freeze it to ice. Only once before have I seen those eyes. Once long ago, in another life.

WHAM! The door to our classroom slams open. Every single pair of eyes in the classroom swivels around to see...a very peculiar looking man. He is tall with a broad chest and shoulders. I wouldn't call him large exactly, more like well built. He is wearing a long dark coat. But, the most striking thing about him is his hair. It is long and halfway down his shoulders but more than that is that it's a shade of impossibly electric blue. It hurts to even look at it. What is he, an anime character?

There is something strangely ethereal about him, he carries a very powerful presence. Our entire class is dead silent which is a result not even Ms. Barnible's most interesting class can produce. The spell is only broken when the man shakes himself like a wet dog, spraying water everywhere from the rain outside. Then, he looks up and flashes a blinding smile.

"Hello everyone, I'm your new substitute teacher, Mr. Rose."

Instantly there's a clamor in the class. Shouts of where's Ms. Barnicle and people just yelling for attention fill the class. Out of the corner of my eye I see the pencil guy wrinkle his nose and I catch the words "he smells off". As I turn to him in confusion a loud CRACK sounds through the room.

All heads whip around. The guy-Mr. Rose stands there, fist against the white board and huge crack it where he punched it.

"Well, guess I have your attention now. Let's proceed shall we, today is a very important class." He grins jovially as if everything is okay. Is this guy kidding? He thinks he can create a huge crack in our white board and pretend as if nothing happened? But no one says anything. We've all seen what he's capable of.

Mr. Rose picks up a dry erase marker and opens it. Then, pressing down hard enough to make everyone in the class wince at the screech, he writes something on the board in big all capital letters. FARYTALES. Oh boy.

"Can someone please tell me what this is?" He asks the class.

No one answers.

"Anyone?" He asks, and now there's an edge to his voice.

No one is willing to volunteer. One minute. Then two. Then, finally a hand goes up. It's the boy from before.

"Yes, you in the gray shirt." Mr. Rose says pleased to have someone volunteer.

He stands up hesitantly, clearly there's something bothering him.

"Fairy tales are..."

"Yes?"

"Analogies to real life. Like in Little Red Riding Hood."

I feel my blood run cold, dreading what he is going to say next.

"Little Red Riding Hood teaches the morales listen to your parents and don't blindly trust."

I feel nauseous. Listen to your parents. Don't blindly trust.

"That's not true!" Everyone in the classroom whips their heads towards the person who spoke. Then, I numbly realize it was me.

Mr. Rose blinks in surprise but doesn't look mad. "Care to explain Miss...?

"Maya." I reply. "And I disagree. Fairytales are merely an outlet for an author's creativity. They are not real."

"I didn't say they were." The boy continues to argue. "I just said they were analogies-"

"They're not."

The vehemence in my tone takes everyone by surprise. No one expects this quiet girl who never talks to suddenly argue like this.

I look into the boy's eyes. There is only confusion there, wondering why I'm taking this so personally.

"Forget it." I say, turning my back. "I'm going to the restroom."

Then I walk out of the room. No one stops me. Although, I do catch sight of Mr. Rose with a strange look in his eyes.