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Chapter 25, Part 3
Back to: Chapter 25, Part 2 Next: Chapter 25, Part 4

In the following years, Cyrus grew into a quiet adolescent who spent a good portion of his time alone, drawing or listening to music or just thinking. He had, after careful thought and planning, convinced his parents to let him grow his hair long. “Momma, Dad,” he’d said, “I’d like to suggest something. If I can keep an ‘A’ average at school, can I let my hair grow out?” His parents had reluctantly agreed, expecting their son to slack off on his studies, but Cyrus, although not the whiz-kids that his older siblings were, was very intelligent and quick to learn. He studied for hours, just for this small victory over his parents.

And there were the girls. Cyrus pursued girls his age, vapid creatures with about as much depth as a drop of water, but there were no better options around. At least, not until the day. His parents decided that it was time to move to a new home in nearby Oakdale. “The repairs on this house are ridiculous,” his father often complained. “For what we’re paying to fix this house, we could almost buy a new house.” The family moved to Oakdale, with varying degrees of enthusiasm-- Sylvia was upset about leaving her friends behind, but Cyrus was eager to be free of his tormenters, while at the same time worried about what kind of cruelty he would have to face at his new school.


It was here in this new town that he met the girls who would permanently change his life. Ophelia and Mae. The two were polar opposites, as different as the sun and moon: Mae, cold, quiet, and distant; Ophelia, warm, kind, and friendly. He could see when he met them that his mother approved of Ophelia, though he could almost hear her thoughts: It’s a shame that such a pretty girl is dressed in such ugly clothes. Why isn’t she in a nice, ladylike dress? These trifling matters meant little to Cyrus, who was delighted to have met someone his age who wanted to talk about something other than fashion or sports or celebrity gossip. These were not the only two girls who affected his life, though. There was one other, who made things just a little bit easier for him.


Cyrus walked into his new school, feeling nervous. They’re going to laugh at me. I know it. It’ll be just like at my other school back in Moriseaux City, he thought, walking down the hall, searching for his class.

As he walked past some lockers, he noticed a pretty girl with wavy black hair, dressed like a cheerleader. Not surprisingly, she was surrounded by boys who were very attentive to her. Cy made a face, remembering how he’d once been interested in that type. What an idiot I was, he thought.

One of the boys noticed Cyrus, but hadn’t gotten a close look at his face, only noticing the long hair. “Hey, baby,” the boy called out. “When your chest grows, give me a call!”

“W-what?” Cyrus replied, looking over.

The boy, along with his friends and the girl, all got a good look at Cyrus’s face. “Oh, ****, it’s a dude!” he exclaimed.

“You just tried flirting with a guy,” one of his friends teased, giving the boy a light shove.

“Well, if he was a real guy, he sure as hell wouldn’t have hair that damn long,” the boy snapped. “****ing freak.”

“Shut up,” a voice snapped, from behind him.

“Get the hell away from here,” the girl called out. “No one wants you around here, Charise.”

The person who’d spoken up, who the cheerleader had identified as Charise, stepped over to the group. “You people mess with anyone who you don’t think looks right or acts a certain way,” Charise said angrily. “Just leave the guy alone. It’s not hurting anyone for him to have long hair.”

Speaking of long hair, Cyrus thought with a smirk, noticing that Charise had extremely long hair, as well as long, shaggy bangs. Could use a trim, at the very least.

“Oh, shut up, Charise,” the cheerleader said, rolling her eyes. “It looks like you have one more freak to add to your little collection of weirdoes. He’ll fit right in.”


Charise made an obscene hand gesture at the group (“Ooh, such obscene gestures from such a pristine girl,” one of the boys sneered), and tugged at Cyrus’s arm, leading him away from the jeering group.

“What was that about?” Cyrus asked.

“Tacita and her group of dimwits,” Charise replied, shaking her head angrily. “I hate people like them. I swear, if I saw any of them laying on the side of the road, dying, I’d go over and spit on their body.”

“Sounds like you really hate them. I’m Cyrus Cloud.”

“Charise Marlow.”

“Wait… Marlow? Do you have a cousin named Ophelia?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I met her the other day. She mentioned she had a cousin named Charise Marlow who went to school here.”

Charise laughed a little and replied, “Well, that’s me. You must be new here.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Figures. Do you have your schedule?” Charise asked. Cyrus nodded and held out his schedule. Charise scanned it and said, “Okay, you have homeroom and English with me, math with S, gym with Sheridon and Gideon, and all other classes with all of us.”

“Who are these people you’re talking about?” Cyrus asked.

“Friends of mine. Don’t worry, they’re not like the jerks you met just now. We have enough time for you guys to meet before we have to get to homeroom. Come on.”

Click Next: Chapter 25, Part 4 to continue...

 
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