"Ah, Declan!" Mr. Townsend smiles, looking genuinely happy to see the boy in the door. Perhaps I am making him nervous too; I tend to make people uncomfortable. "Right on time. I just mentioned you to Miss Young here, and there you are."

Oh! It's the head boy who is excellent at sorting out issues between students!

I'll be so disappointed if he tells me he'll help me if I give him a hand. Yes, I'll be very, very disappointed! There is something very princely about him, and it's not just his glowing hair and lovely smile. I watch in horror as he winks at me, and his crown slips from his beautiful head and clatters at his feet.

Blooming flirt! So disappointing!

"Aye, I'm like the Sluagh. I'm a host of the unforgiven dead that gets summoned when ye say me name," he says, crossing the floor to stand beside my chair. "She's a miss now, is she? We've become right formal since I've spoken to ye earlier, Doc. Does that make me a mister now? Or are we having the teachers wear uniforms too? That will be fierce confusing, I tell ye... uhm... Sir."

Self-redemption is a real thing. 

I can see his crown rising from his feet, flying through the air and landing on his head again. Someone with an accent like that can flirt with me as much as they want to, especially if they're going to do it in such a pleasing voice. I won't reciprocate - I'll probably hide under my chair - but they can still do it. My hormone producers are giggling happily right now.

It's the only part of me that is having a good time at the moment.

"Erin, meet our head boy, Declan McKenna," Mr. Townsend smiles. "He has a mouth on him, but mostly in a good way. He will help you find your destination."

"To be sure, to be sure," Declan agrees, nodding his head and chuckling. I'm not sure what he agrees with. Having a mouth on him or that he'll help me find my way. "I'll be happy to help the lass find her destination, Sir. Did ye have a specific destination in mind, or should I just pick one?"

To my surprise, the principal doesn't get mad at the cheeky boy; he throws his head back, laughing, and then his expression changes to mock exasperation.

"Dex, would you be so kind as to show Erin to Miss Thatcher's homeroom?"

"Ah, lass, that is a grand choice!" Declan exclaims as if I had any say in the matter. "Miss Thatcher is pure craic."

Did he just tell me that the teacher uses cocaine?

I am not entirely sure I enjoy hearing that. A teacher on crack, and it's common knowledge?! I thought Briar Cove was a safe community with little crime. While Declan's charming lilt and sweet smile rocked me into a state of well-being, I forgot who I was and where I was. I'm now harshly reminded, and dread coils its spikey body in my stomach. I press my hands to my belly to stop the pain.

I think the ulcer is acting up again.

Sometimes, it feels like I ate barbed wire. The food burns its rough, chafing way from my gullet to the pit of my stomach, and I end up feeling as if I've been kicked in the solar plexus. It becomes hard to know when I'm hungry and when my intestines are just melting in acid.

I rise on shaky legs, pick up my schoolbag, and pull it onto my back, jumping a little when Mr. Townsend rises and reaches a hand towards me over the desk's surface. Does he want to shake my hand or confiscate my school bag? Does he want to check to see if I have some drugs for his staff?

"There you go, Erin, " he smiles, and only half-convinced that he wants to shake my hand, I step closer and take his outstretched hand. I'm relieved when his smile widens, and he gives my hand a quick, firm, no-strangeness squeeze before he lets it go again.

I think I like Mr. Townsend... Doctor Townsend, according to the framed Doctor's degree on the wall behind him. It is carelessly tucked between many lesser achievements as if the significance was lost on him, and he only hung it there because someone said he should.

"Dex will take you to your homeroom, and remember, my door is always open."

"Except when it's not, Doc," Declan grins cheekily, reminding him that the door wasn't open when he arrived.

"True, true," Doctor Townsend chuckles. "But in that case, knocking is encouraged."

"Thank you, Sir," I mutter, the knot in my throat suddenly the emotional variety rather than the anxiety kind... for the moment at least. To my horror, I instinctively bow the way I do when I deal with the elders from my mother's Japanese side of our family.

Kill me now!

Doctor Townsend inclines his head and his shoulders in answer. He probably knows that my mother is over 45% Japanese but is taken aback and not sure exactly how to respond to my gesture.

This is not awkward at all! 

I'm truly grateful for his kindness and for not mentioning the horrible things I'd done and had done to me back at Fortuna High. I couldn't have faced this day if we'd trudged through all the sordid details.

Doctor Townsend gathers a couple of printed sheets scattered on his desk and hands them to Declan. I'm glad I'm not required to take them and show them how much my hands shake. I blink, surprised to see Declan helping himself to one of the pens in Mr. Townsend's pen holder.

"Remember, Erin," the principal stops my progress to the door, and I turn to look at him, apprehension swirling through my gut. 

I knew this was too good to be true! 

"Everybody deserves a second chance when they've made a mistake and truly regret it," he says, surprising me again. His disconcerting eyes bore into mine again, seeing my secrets. "I hope you'll make good use of this second chance and find a warm new home here with us. We are certainly here to help you, but the responsibility to succeed ultimately rests on you."

A second chance. Do I really deserve one?

I feel faint when we leave the office. My heart is beating a staccato in my chest, and my lungs are once again having a wrestling match with a giant hell-bent on squeezing the breath out of me. I think one hurdle per day should be enough. I've survived meeting the principal. I deserve to go home now - let off early for good behaviour... if my spirals into daydreams can be excused.

"So... Erin, was it?" Declan smiles at me when we're standing in the hallway. "As in Erin go bragh?"

"What?" Mr. Towsend told him I'm Erin Young. Why would he think my surname is Gohbra? I like the way he pronounced my name, though. Ehreen. 

Chills!

"Ireland forever...?" he prompts with raised eyebrows. "Naw?"

"Uhm..." I say very eloquently, blinking up at him. 

"I'll take that as a no then," he laughs, and I feel like I've taken a leap through a Stargate and landed on a planet where I don't speak the language of the auburn-haired gods.

"This is yer timetable, some general info and a map," Declan tells me, shaking the papers. "I'm going to help ye match yer classes to the map as we go along." 

Looking at his friendly face, I'm once again falling through a hole at my core, a portal to a different reality where I am not a messed-up girl bullied into trauma. Instead, I'm a carefree nymph, floating on a breeze while I gaze into the eyes of a handsome, brave knight.

I have no idea what he just said to me, and this time, he wasn't making weird statements. I was just too busy weaving flowers in the long Rapunzel hair I don't have while I listened to the delicious sound of his voice. He tilts his head, still smiling at me, but his smile slowly changes from expectant to perplexed.

I think he's waiting for me to thank him!

I hurry to do that, since I, too, can be a good citizen of Pleasantville, using words like 'thank' and 'you' in perfect harmony. I open my mouth and say the most obvious thing that comes to mind. "You remind me of the gargoyles in Fable..."

Oh, my word! 

There was no 'thank' in that sentence. There was only a 'you'; I wish there weren't! There was also a 'me'... and that 'me' would love to run away now!

The part of my brain not affected by social anxiety screams a long, horrified scream. A noooooooooooooooo echoing on and on in the cavity of my skull while Declan stares at me as if he'd just discovered me under a rock. He is still smiling, so he probably likes discovering things under rocks or hasn't processed what I said yet. If that is the case, I hope his processor remains stuck until we're ten paragraphs into our next conversation, and he never realises what I'd just blurted out.

"To be sure, to be sure," he chuckles. "Me brother is a fierce gargoyle when he's in a mood and starts effin' and blindin', but as far as I remember, those Fable gargoyles were Scottish. Me brother becomes even more Irish when he's angry. An Irish gargoyle. I have a Scottish grandfather, though, and I am often told I'm a lot like him, so... Aye, I can see it."

What?!

My brain mercifully stops screaming, and my heart slows its frantic beat, mainly because confusion tends to have that effect on my anxiety. I am extremely confused right now.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, looking down at my feet in the scuffed school shoes. I look further down at the terracotta tiles, then I lift my chin and look at the many portraits on the walls of students who represented the school in illustrious ways. I look at the trophies displayed in the glass and wood cabinets lining the hallway. In fact, I look at everything and everywhere except at Declan McKenna. "I meant to say thank you."

"Naw, lass," he laughs. "Don't worry. I've been called a lot worse. Just the other day, me mate, Hunter, called me a dusty leprechaun when I blew him up in GTA. Can ye believe it? Me neither! I don't know why I had to be dusty... I could've been so many other kinds of leprechauns. Calling me dusty was fierce insulting."

A weird sound is bubbling from inside me, spilling over my lips. It's a sound I haven't made in so many months that hearing it startles me into slapping my hand over my mouth. 

Did I just laugh?!

"I rather like the cheeky gargoyles in Fable," Declan assures me as we walk to the doors leading outside. "At least ye didn't call me a dusty gargoyle. I'll take it as a compliment." I don't know if he means it, but he certainly doesn't look insulted that I called him an insult-slinging Scottish stone ornament from a game. 

https://youtu.be/Zg3YOJA69oc

"Oh, and yer welcome," he adds, shuffling the pages and folding them over to make handling them easier. "This place can be a nightmare maze without some guidance from a friendly gargoyle."

We leave the administration building and follow the walkway to where it crosses another one. Declan points out landmarks, such as the assembly hall, as we go along. I now see why he'd stolen a pen from Mr. Townsend's office, and the principal didn't mind.

As we pass classrooms on my roster and other important locations, he marks them on the map for me. He stops and shows me each time, making sure I know exactly where we are on the map in relation to the other places. It takes me less than five minutes to realise that Declan McKenna is an exceptionally kind boy. 

He is also incredibly engaging, even when not confusing me with strange expressions and references to people I don't know. My mind hasn't wandered even once since he started showing me around. My mind has been very happy to be right here with him, listening in joyful rapture to the beautiful way he weaves his words into sentences.

"I'm not looking for a boyfriend," I say, and hearing my voice, my heart flops down to the bottom of my shoes, begging me to stomp on it and put it out of its misery. I need a muzzle!

What the hell, Erin?!

"What?" Declan asks, giving me a startled look, and for the first time since I met him, his smile fades away. "Whoah, lass, hold onto yer panty laces! I'm not flirting with ye. I'm just walking here with ye, showing ye around, being all friendly-like. I'm sorry if I gave ye the wrong impression, but-"

"I wasn't talking to you!" I gasp, desperate to end his long rejection speech or whatever it is. My cheeks are on fire; I'm too mortified to be anxious right now. I want to jump into the hole I've dug for myself, ask Declan to cover me, and tell my mom that I won't be home until I've hatched and am ready to join my people on whatever planet I'm from.

Honestly! Saying that was even worse than calling him a gargoyle of a completely different nationality!

"Oh!" Declan says, nodding his head sagely. "Aye, that does make a lot more sense, since there are so many other people on this walk with us."

"I'm sorry," I breathe miserably. I have no idea what else to say.

"Naw, lass," Declan chuckles. "About half the people I know constantly talk to themselves. Some of them even do it on purpose. The rest do it because I don't listen to their shite, and they don't know how to dry up. What I do find a wee bit strange is why ye felt the need to say that specific thing to yerself and crush any hope I might've had of possible flirting in our future when I'm not just yer guide."

"Me too..." I mutter.

I cannot think of even one thing I could say to make this any better. Can't we just rewind back to before gargoyles and boyfriends entered our conversation? We can start over from where I shook Mr. Townsend's hand. That was the last non-embarrassing and vaguely human thing I did.

Wait! What did he just say about future flirting?

I'm saved from making our conversation even more awkward when a huge Strelitzia near the walkway shudders and shakes, its movements rippling through the leaves of the Delicious Monsters and Selloums surrounding it. I turn my head just in time to see the cluster of broad-leaved plants give birth to a boy. 

He bounds like a gazelle from among the large leaves to gracefully land a couple of feet ahead of us on the path. For a moment, I think I've zoned out again, desperate to escape the embarrassing conversation Declan and I were having because, when he appeared, the boy seemed surreal and weightless. I'm sure he was flying.

He turns when he sees us, his hair still floating in the breeze of his actions. Time is slowing down, making each of the boy's movements heartstoppingly perfect in slow motion, and I once again find it hard to breathe, but this time, no giant is sitting on my lungs. The boy's other-worldly beauty stole my breath away. 

When the sunlight sparkles on his streaked hair and etches the outlines of his flawless features in gold, I recognise him immediately as the boy having the strange tussle with the dark-haired girl in the parking lot. I'm so glad he didn't lose any of his lovely hair.

"Hey!" Declan shouts beside me, and time speeds up again. The boy is now dusting himself off in a disappointingly human way. I wasn't hallucinating; he is not a beautiful fantasy creature born from a plant. He is a person.

Bummer.

He looks like he'd been wrestling with a plant, though... that might still be a little fantastical. Did the Strelitzia insult him and he just had to put it in its place? Surely, he didn't just trip and fall into the flowerbed! Not someone who can move with such grace, even when he's not doing it in slow motion! That is simply too depressing to consider. Perhaps he was doing gardening. He is certainly dirty enough, with mud streaks on his white school shirt.

"Get yerself to yer class, ye plonker!" Declan says with enough authority in his voice to make me want to find my class, but the boy bending over a couple of schoolbags leaning against one of the walkway's many pillars just swivels his head to look at him and slowly rises to his full height.

"Or what?" he asks, giving a threatening step towards us.

I reflexively jump back, wanting to hide behind Declan. I wonder if he would be able to beat the boy in a fight. He might be a tiny bit taller, perhaps, I'm not sure, but the delicately pretty boy obscenely has muscles bulging the sleeves of his rolled-up shirt. He also has strange grey eyes. They are like cracked, smoky mirrors, and he uses them to give me a rather scandalous once-over that makes the hair on the back of my neck rise, and my toes curl nervously in my shoes.

I wouldn't mess with this guy; everything about him spells Danger with a capital D.

"Or don't," Declan shrugs amicably. "It's all the same to me, lad."

I'm disappointed by how easily my knight in shining armour just rolls over for this guy. Seeing it pushes my simmering anxiety up a notch. Will this stranger include me in the brawl if fists start to fly, or will I be exempted from getting beaten up due to a lack of muscle? 

I'm not part of this! I want no part of this!

For a moment, just a moment, life seemed filled with possibilities, and the new school didn't feel as daunting and cold as it did when I got out of my mother's car. Now, my intestines are back to gnawing on each other.

To my surprise, the pretty guy's face softens into a saucy grin, his long-lashed eyelids lowering teasingly. "Not very head boy-like of you, Dex," he chuckles, and Declan shrugs again, waving the papers in the air. 

"I'm busy right now," he says. "If ye want, I could come back when I'm done and show ye how head boy-like I can be."

"I can hardly wait," the boy laughs, and Declan turns to look at me. With the tension flowing out of me, I can finally see that he is not intimidated by the plant prince and never was.

"That manky bastard over there is Tanner Trent," he grunts, pulling a face. "Make sure ye get a good look at him. Next time ye see him, run the other way."

"Hey!" Tanner growls. "Experts told me just this week that I'm an upstanding member of society... and they were referring to me, not my upstanding mem-"

The leaves that spat Tanner out shudder again, producing first a hand holding onto a shoe and then an arm. I watch, fascinated, as another boy leaps onto the walkway. The school has a boy plant! Just wait until I tell Gran about this! She will want me to steal a cutting for her collection so that she can grow her very own pretty plant boys. 

I would love to bring home a cutting of a wonderful plant like that... any wonderful plant. When we left Grey Mount, she had to leave the huge flowerbeds filled with exquisite plants she'd nursed into flourishing adulthood from mere cuttings. That is one of my many regrets. She loved those plants.

Gran is a plant whisperer. Yes, it's a thing!

"Found it!" the newly birthed boy says triumphantly, and I gasp, taking a startled step back when I unexpectedly find myself face to face with Declan's duplicate.

"Oh, I agree, lass," Declan chuckles when I hurriedly turn my head to give him an astonished look, making sure he still stands beside me. Where on Earth am I right now to meet boy after boy, causing my poor, abused body to be flooded by surge after surge of pure Dopamine? At this rate, I'll be able to dump out the entire pharmacy supply of meds I have to take each day just to feel half-human.

Oh! That would actually be a good thing.

"It is shocking how many gombeens we have in this school," Declan says. Gombeens? Is that his word for good-looking boys? I so need to run into just one homely one. Just one, so I can know I'm awake and still me. "That bastard may not look anything like me, but he is, unfortunately, a distant relative, believe it or not. I barely know the yoke. He's that guy we no longer invite to family reunions, and we only mention his name in whispers lest we summon him by accident."

"Oh, dry yer arse, Dex!" his twin snorts, shaking the dirt from his shoe and brushing over his socked foot before pulling the shoe on. "Sure, look, lass," he says, turning towards me, and this is just too weird. It's like being looked at by the same guy from two different angles. "Ye have me sympathies for being stuck with this melter. Our Dex has a mouth ye could park a car in."

"Erin, meet me brother, Galen," Dex laughs, and Galen tilts his head, looking like a cute puppy, his ears perking up at hearing my name.

"As in Erin go bragh?" he asks, and now it is Declan making a loud snorting noise.

"Of course not, Fecky the Ninth!" he exclaims horrified. "Why would ye ask the lass something mental like that?"

I hear myself laugh for the second time today; this time, it doesn't startle me as much. I remember Declan asking me that same weird question less than five minutes ago. Galen's eyes widen, and he chuckles with a shrug, clearly not insulted by whatever his brother just called him.

"It just slipped out of me mouth."

"Well, lass," Declan says with a long, defeated sigh as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders, and he doesn't know why he has to suffer like this. "I believe he is another lad ye should run to the east from if ye see him coming from the west."

"Aye, that might be wise," Galen agrees, still not in the least bit offended by his brother.

"Hold on," Tanner says, frowning at Galen. Even frowning, he is the loveliest elf I've ever seen. "I'm still trying to figure out why you would want to park a car in somebody's mouth. That just seems very inconvenient, and I don't think it's even possible."

"It is possible. Do you want me to show ye?" Galen offers a little threateningly.

"No, I generally don't like guys parking anything in my mouth, thank you," Tanner grunts. "Besides, I need that shoe back; I haven't thrown it on the roof yet."

"I know I'm going to regret asking this," Declan says reasonably. "But why do ye need to throw me brother's shoe on the roof of the music room?"

"To join the friggin' Biology textbook he threw up there."

"Ah! I was right," Declan grunts, rubbing his free hand through his hair and messing it up. Now, he looks even more like his brother, who has apparently been brawling with Tanner and ended up among the large plants beside the walkway.

"How about you get your arse up there and fetch my book," Tanner tells Galen, who shrugs, giving his friend or enemy - the jury is still out on that one - a contemptuous look. I might be wrong, but based on my current experience, I think the boys of Briar Cove might be rather violent in their affection. These guys do seem to like each other. 

I could be wrong.

"How about I park me fist in yer mouth instead?"

"How about, no?" Tanner says flatly, and then he lunges for Galen's foot. "Give me your friggin' shoe!"

"Fine, me shoe it is then! Open yer bake!" Galen jumped away, plucked off his shoe and grabbed Tanner by the collar of his shirt. I am rather surprised that their noisy shenanigans haven't brought any teachers to deal with them. Then again, I can see that the music room on the other side of the flowerbed is empty of people, and the walkway we're on is bordered by a windowless wall covered in thick ivy.

"Aye," Declan sighs, turning to me with a shrug. "These two spanners are barely human. I'm glad they're just random strangers to me, or I would've been right embarrassed now. Don't mind them, lass. This is their way of saying goodbye to each other. Me brother recently got a scholarship to Cristalcrest Ice Hockey Academy. He'll be leaving us soon."

My heart contracts in empathy with the heartache, wrestling with pure pride I see on Declan's face while he looks at his brother trying to feed his friend a dirty shoe. The two boys are wrestling like the chimpanzees I've seen at the Grey Mount Zoo. They're tumbling over each other as if the paved walkway isn't hard. It doesn't take long for them to fall off and disappear among the plants again.

"That's really awesome. Most of my brother's favourite players were trained at the Farm," I say as if I know what I'm talking about. I don't, but Avery is a huge ice hockey fan, and I've heard him use those words. The first time, I thought he'd been hanging out with Gran too long, but then I heard that The Farm is the popular name for the Cristalcrest Ice Hockey Academy. If what I heard is true, then it's really impressive that Galen made it in there. 

According to Ave, they only take the most talented and promising players.

"Aye, me brother is pure class on ice," Declan says fondly. "He's a poxy eejit anywhere else. Hey!" he shouts, stepping to the edge of the walkway. "Ye're fecking up the gardens! Stop being melters and go to class!"

"I will, yeah," Galen says, making his way to the walkway, where he sits, tapping a bead of blood on his lower lip with a fingertip.

"Gan, it's Blanche's book," Tanner whines, crawling onto the walkway to lounge beside him. "I need a  McKenna on that roof right now! Any McKenna will do." He doesn't look half as worried as his words and tone imply.

"Shite!" Declan exclaims. "Yer playing with yer hospital plan! Blanche is going to eat the head of ye."

"Dex, go get the book," Galen shrugs, leaning his back against a pillar while Tanner inspects his lip for him.

"I will, yeah," Declan says, and taking my arm, he nods in the direction we were walking before we ran into these two strange boys. They are now happily comparing scrapes and bruises, laughing as if it is the most fun thing in the world. I don't think either of the McKenna boys knows what it means when you agree to something because Declan is definitely not heading to the music room to fetch the book from its roof, and I don't think Galen will be making his way to his classroom anytime soon.

I get it now! 

When I stepped through the Stargate, I landed in Ferelden and ran smack-bam into Fenris and Zevran. Fortunately, I have Alistair as my charming - though confusing - guide through this friggin' maze of gorgeous old buildings.

Yes! I'll admit it. I'm a massive Dragon Age fan.

Leaving Tanner and Galen behind, we turn a corner, and when we reach a closed door, Declan stops, turning to me with a wide smile.

"There ye go, Erin Young," he says. "Yer very own homeroom."

"Thank you," I mutter, looking up at the cream-painted door set in the red brick wall as if it holds clues about what I might expect inside. I could walk on a few steps and look in the windows... but then I will see what's in there, and I really don't want to. The temporary reprieve Declan's soothing presence and the strange boys brought me evaporated the moment I heard the word 'homeroom' and realised that the tour was over.

I enjoyed it and cannot remember the last time I enjoyed anything.

I am brought back to harsh reality, and my closest and dearest friend, Anxiety, is once again trying to eat a hole through my tummy. Just like earlier, when I left my mother's car, I cannot move. I'm trapped in a gradually thickening cocoon of fear.

"If it were me, I would open the door," Dex suggests matter-of-factly. "It seems to be the most efficient solution to this puzzle."

Despite myself, I snort-laugh. I've laughed more times with Declan in the short time I've known him than I've laughed in months. Taking a deep breath, I force my hand to rise and reach for the doorknob. When I see it shake, I hurry to lower it again and wish Declan would just leave now. There's no need for him to see this humiliation. I've embarrassed myself in front of him enough already.

I'm startled out of my spiral into despondency when he suddenly places a warm hand on my shoulder.

"It will be alright, luv," he says, his voice running like warm water over my anxiety-frozen heart. "The first step is always the hardest."

With that, he opens the door with the hand still holding my papers, while the comforting one slides from my shoulder to gently put pressure on my lower back, guiding me over the threshold and helping me take that dreaded first step.

***