- Doris Lessing

©

Large, golden rays drifted in through the open window. The sounds of birds filled the air as the dawn broke overhead. Situated under the window, a set of cerulean colored eyes blinked open. Sweet, humid waves of warmth brushed over Paris’ face and, for a moment she smiled. Suddenly a horrid, high-pitched noise broke the silence. A caramel colored hand lazily clawed its way to the singing Sailor Moon clock propped up on a nearby nightstand, tossing it across the room in a perfect, practiced arch. The clock smacked into a pillow nailed onto the wall, dropping down onto another pillow placed beneath. As it hit, the alarm clock switched off.

"Liyah, that was our only alarm clock." A raspy, morning voice said gallingly. “Try to be a little more careful.“

From the top bunk, a mass of covers moved like a dolphin just below the surface.

"But its so annoying.” Liyah rolled over, stretching her arms up over her head. “If I hear that tune one more time, I'll scream!"

As though she forgot the slight mishap the night before between George and herself, Yukari started to happily hum the Sailor Moon tune. Liyah screamed, laughing as she threw her pillow up and over the bunk. It also seemed as though she too forgot about the uneasy feeling that Yukari displayed only seven and a half hours earlier.

A stuffed cat suddenly whizzed down through the air, bouncing off Liyah’s bed-headed hair.

“Hey watch it, you poof!”

Suddenly the slicing shhhhhhh of the shower rushed to their ears.

"Damn, Paris beat us to the bathroom. She better not take forever!" Yukari commented, maneuvering herself in the bunk and climbing down the wooden steps.

"Well maybe if u weren't humming Sailor Moon then u could have gotten in there first.” Liyah joked. But abruptly she became serious. “What do you think of her though?”

“I don't really know what to make of her.” Yukari replied. She rooted around on the floor for a pair of pants and a shirt. “She doesn't say much, but she seems nice.”

“Well she’s new. It must be the culture shock.” Liyah replied. “There’s something about her that interests me though, I can’t exactly put my hand on it.”

Climbing out of her bed, Liyah leaned down and started to pull up her blue comforter, making her bed the way she always had since she was a child.

“What do you mean?“ Yukari asked, just leaving her bed unmade.

“Well, I had no clue who Paris was before she showed up, but somehow I knew what she would look like when I picture her in my mind.” Liyah explained. “Does that sound strange to you?”

“No,” Yukari responded, easing her friend for a second. “But that’s only because you’re strange in the first place.”

Dodging the deadly fire of stuffed animals, Yukari screamed as she disappeared into the Dress Room. Directly behind her, a sleep-deprived Li didn’t give up the chase.

Just then, a intrusive cacophony of a knock filled the room. Before either of the two woman could answer, the door was opened suddenly. In a wave of chatter and snide laughter, George, Ayato, and a new addition, Arashi, entered the room.

“Where is everyone?” Ayato asked as he walked in. He hung his coat onto a rack of hangers nailed to the door, looking around the messy room simultaneously. “Oh, I hear someone in the shower.”

Because of the size of the room, George immediately walked to the back, standing in from of, what some may call, his Dressing Room. Most days, George would pay the rent the girls needed to afford the room, but lately, with the fashion show coming up and the clothing line the group had to create, he was more worried about his show than whether or not Liyah and Yukari had anywhere to sleep. Peeking out from behind the door with only a silk, pink bra on, Liyah jerked back in surprise, her mouth falling open with shock.

"Why are you guys in here!” She turned and screamed into the Dressing Room. “Yukari, did you give George a key!"

Pushing past the red head, Yukari, without making eye contact with any of the boys, entered the main room.

“Maybe.”

Hot rivers of water beaded off Paris’ body, pooling in a clear puddle at her feet. Taking Liyah’s advice to “use whatever you need”, Paris helped herself to a bar of soup, some shampoo, and a tube of toothpaste, nothing fancy. As she lathered up, she suddenly heard the seductive, low voice of someone she recognized over the steady beat of the water. Distinguishing it as George from last night, Paris cleverly decided that it would be best if she stayed in the shower a few minutes longer. The last thing she wanted was to walk out of the bathroom, dressed in a towel, in front of a man.

Back in the main room, a flamboyant looking male, dressed in ripped clothes, with pin-pierced ears, set down a paper bag filled with bagels and powdered donuts.

“Bought ya sum breakfast.” Arashi said, a smile on his tan features. His voice was drowned in a luscious British accent.

Frowning at the bagels, but still listening to her stomach growl, Yukari graciously took three doughnuts from the pile, thanking him with a smirk.

“Yukari…“ George, looking her up and down, placed his hands on hips and continued, “You're our model, you shouldn't eat like that."

Sticking out her tongue, Yukari disappeared into the Dressing Room, a small shower of powdered sugar trailing behind her. As Yukari turned to close the door, she came face to face with the grinning face of Ayato.

“You can’t come in here, this is a private room for girls only!” Yukari explained. As she talked, the force of her breath blew a small cloud of powdered sugar in the man’s direction.

“I just need to talk to Liyah,” Ayato pleaded, squinting one eye closed as he wiped away the powdery goodness off of his face. “Just for a minute?”

Yukari made a face but shakily obeyed, strutting out of the Dressing Room and plopping down on a bed next to George.

Peeking inside, Ayato saw that the room had practically been hit by a tornado, and in the center, stood a barely naked Liyah, her face beet red from embarrassment.

“What are you doing in here!?” She screamed, throwing a platform boot at him. “I'm still in my pajamas!”

“So?” He joked, catching the shoe and throwing it back. “We used to take baths together.”

“We were three!” She shouted again, dodging the shoe. As it bumped along the cloth littered floor, she bent down to scoop it up and once again throw it in his direction.

“And?” He asked with mock attitude. The shoe slammed into the side wall, creating a little dent in last year’s ‘04 Yazawa Dress Festival design. “I doubt much as changed since then.”

Trying to hold back a laugh, Liyah walked up, dressed in that same silky bra and underwear, and pinched Ayato on the arm.

“What is that supposed to mean?! I have so changed!” She replied, pointing at her fully developed boobs. “I have boobs now, if you haven’t noticed, and I've grown up. You shouldn't look at me like that anyway, you perv!”

“Look at you like what? Get your mind outta of the gutter.” Ayato joked, picking up a light pink halter top and flowered shirt. "Here, wear this."

“What would u know about fashi--Hey, this isn't too bad.”

Not hearing any noise, but still fearing that they were still there, two sapphire eyes looked out from behind the bathroom door. Just as she thought, they still had was company. Modesty aside, Paris realized she was out of time. She had to be at Mrs. Yazawa’s office at 8 sharp and it was 7:45. Coming out of the bathroom with a single towel wrapped around her torso, Paris hesitantly shut the door behind her, a nervous frown on her face. Her plan was to run into the Dressing Room and borrow a shirt from Liyah, but before she got a few steps out, Arashi’s lanky body blocked her way. A strange look lit up his face as he peered down at her.

“Whou the 'ell are you?”

“Um,” Paris panicked. “I live here now. I'm Paris. Bye.”

Squeezing past him, Paris vanished into the Dressing Room, letting out a startled cry as she saw Ayato and Liyah standing side by side. Noticing her discomfort, Liyah’s eyes widened and she immediately began to push the boy out.

“Woman only! You! Go!”

“She doesn’t speak much, eh?” Arashi asked Yukari in a low voice. Shaking her had, the dark haired girl stood up to collect her things, throwing a flashy book bag on her back.

“She’s just not used to such a strange guy looking at her the way you did, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, but can I borrow a shirt and a pair of pants” Paris quickly asked Liyah in a small voice. She wasn’t used to asking for things. When she was younger, she always worked for what she owned. “Just something simple…”

“Of course.” Liyah said, glad to help her new roommate any way that she could. “You‘re a little shorter than me though. How tall are you?”

“Um, 5’5”, I think.“ Paris replied, feeling short and small standing next to the gorgeous 5’9” model beside her.

Liyah nodded and immediately started to root around the racks hanging up in the room. Finally, she found what she figured would be “simple” enough for Paris, although nothing that she owned was in any way simple. George made sure of that. Liyah kindly handed Paris a black, sleeveless shirt and a pair of low, tight hip-huggers.

“I’m sorry if they’re too tight.” Liyah apologized. “Yukari and I wear this kinda stuff.”

Looking at it intriguingly, Paris nodded her head in thanks, gently taking them out of her roommate’s hands.

It didn’t take too long for Paris to get dressed, although the clothes were a little too tight. Either way, she had her black trench coat to cover herself up, so she felt fine. Messing up her wet hair with her fingers, and taking a little lotion for her hands and face, Paris was ready to go for the day. Walking out the bathroom, Paris quickly gathered her empty pack, eyeing the Sailor Moon clock on the floor, and fled the room after a quick farewell to everyone. It was already 8:01. She didn’t notice the wondering eyes of the three men seated around the room, all amazed by the tight-fitting clothes the blossoming beauty was wearing

A few seconds later, Liyah appeared from the Dressing Room, looking simply radiant in the clothes that Ayato had picked out.

“Did Paris leave already?” She was answered with a nod from a silent George. “I thought she wanted me to walk her onto campus.”

“She was running late.” George said as he motioned Yukari towards the Dressing Room. “At least, she looked like she was in a rush.”

“Oh, well, Arashi and I have to go help Ms. Hamada set up for today's lesson, anyway. I doubt I would’ve had enough time to slow her around properly.” She replied, frowning to herself as she watched Yukari and George disappeared into the room she had just left. Fearing that George would soon discover the patterns she had flung in there with haste, Liyah quickly gathered her school supplies and motioned Arashi out. “We'll see your guys in class." She called behind her, a little sad that Ayato was staying behind to help out with George and Yukari. She was now completely alone with Arashi, something that she feared and hopped for at the same time.

As they walked down the corridor, Arashi looked over at Liyah, smelling the scent of lavender. He felt a tingle run up his spine as he could almost taste her lips on his.

"You look gorgeous today." He said abruptly, catching her off guard.

“Thanks. I guess Ayato has good taste in clothing." Liyah replied as they walked past some of the old uninhabited classrooms about to be converted into dorms. Arashi’s amber eyes peer into the empty classroom, the feeling of passion and desire taking over his body. Suddenly, Liyah felt a warm hand grab hers. She was pushed into am empty classroom, the door slamming behind them. Pressing her up against the wall, his strong arms on either side of her, Arashi slowly brushed his lips against Liyah’s. She felt a hand touch her chin, angling it up to expose her smooth neck.

“Arashi what if a teacher walks in?” She breathed. “What if--”

“It's still early, they won't." He cooed, brushing away a strand of orange hair from her forehead. Liyah lets out a sigh as she felt her strength leave her body. Leaning down, Arashi pressed his pierced lips onto hers, gently opening them with his tongue. A hand traveled up her side, tracing her curves as he pressed closer to his chest.

“We can’t do this.” Liyah said as she weakly tried to push him away.

“Why? I won’t tell," He said with a seductive grin, "If you don't..."

A sliver of white light widened as Paris pushed open the maple stained door from the darkened hallway. The rusted metal plaque over the door read "Yazawa Ai: Dean Of Admissions" in dull black letters. Silently she slipped into the room, surprising the middle aged woman seated behind an oak desk, reading.

“Good heavens Mrs. Borcelov. You startled me.” The woman exclaimed, her face creased with small lines of laughter. She seemed like a bubbly individual, filled with humor and good spirits but one that didn’t mess around when life called for her to work. Paris took a seat in the nearest Lazy Boy, letting her brown pack fall gently to the ground.

“Firstly, I would just like to make sure I have everything in order.” Mrs. Yazawa replied after a few seconds, shifting through a pile of schedules. “You took the name Borcelev after your father, am I correct?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Paris replied politely. “I did.”

“Ok, I just wanted to make sure.” Her eyes quickly scanned the names of each paper, finally widening when she found the one that concerned the new student. “They accidentally listed you as Paris Savelov, after your mother. I’ll have to get that fixed.”

Something deep within Paris twitched, but she remained silent.

“Here’s another printout of your schedule. Just in case your other one got damaged somehow.” With a long, pointed finger she touched the list of courses that Paris had selected before she had been transferred. “Any questions or concerns?”

Paris looked up at her with wayward, child-like eyes but shook her head. She hadn’t been used to people being so friendly to her.

“No, I think I’m fine.” The girl replied, reaching across the desk and taking the schedule into her hands. “But, the rules…?”

“Oh, yes.” Mrs. Yazawa started, clasping her hands in front of her as she looked gently down at her new student. “There aren’t too many important ones. Just be on time to class, do you work, lights out are at midnight, but you’re free to leave the dorms after that for personal or health reasons. If you want the rundown of every one, you can check the Rules List sheet in your dorm room, or any dorm room for that matter. We stapled the list to as many walls as we could...”

Dean Yazawa laughed and colorfully waved her hands as she spoke. The infectious wit spread to Paris. Before she knew it, she was smiling as well.

“Now, lets see.” Yazawa paused and ran her fingers over her chin. “Is there anything else you would like to talk about?”

“Oh, Um…”

“I heard that you’re father was Japanese.” The Dean suddenly voiced. “I guess that’s how you speak our language so well.”

At the mention of her father, Paris’ eye squeezed shut. She forced the emotions back though, and pushed herself hard to stay alert.

“Yes, that’s true.” Paris replied shakily.

“That’s very interesting,” Mrs. Yazawa replied, a motherly smile on her face. “Anyway, would you like someone to show you around campus for the first few days?”

Paris shook her head, forcing a smile. It was an unpracticed smile, awkward and crooked on her face. Mrs. Yazawa smiled back, this time a beautiful, wised smile that caused Paris’s heart to skip and pierce with a shooting pain. Startled slightly, she stood up, bowing in thanks like she was taught before she arrived in Japan, and turning to the door.

“Oh, and Paris?”

Paris froze and glanced back, a questionable look on her face.

“If you need anything…anything at all, don’t be afraid to come to me for help, ok?”

Nodding her head gratefully, Paris stepped out the door, shutting it tight behind her and resting the small of her back against the hard surface. Taking a deep breath, she slowly pulled out a crumbled, black-and-white photo out of the bag. She looked down at a smiling, ageless woman with large, loving eyes.

Our smiles were almost identical, Paris thought with amazement. Almost identical.

“Only a mother can have a smile like that.” She whispered to herself, kissing the twenty-something year old woman in the picture before safely tucking it away. Paris had seen other women with smiles that resembled the person in the picture and, each time, her heart had filled with hope that somehow that individual was the person she had lost so many years ago. But, even through all the searching, all the hoping and praying, Paris knew that she would never be able to fulfill her dream.

“Paris?”

Her thoughts were cut short as a low, charming voice called her name. Turning her head quickly, she caught sight of a tall, lanky figure walking up to meet her. George’s features shown brilliantly even by the ugly yellow glow from the hallway lamps. A black, button down shirt covered his broad chest, with a flowing, dark scarf floating out behind him.

“I thought I might find you here.” He said, tilting a wide rimmed cowboy hat further back upon his head.

“Did you need me for something?” Paris asked courteously, fumbling the schedule in her hands and bringing it up to her face to study it. The words were blurred, each black marking stretched and swirled in an unrecognizable pattern of symbols. “My first class is in a few minutes and I don’t want to be late.” She guessed. In all acknowledgement, she had no clue when her first class was. Digging around in her bag, she brought out a pair of small, black lined glasses and slipped them onto her heart shaped face.

“Elementary, my dear Paris.” George said suddenly as he bent the paper down to get a better look at her. “Our first class starts in an hour and a half.”

Confused, Paris searched the chart for the first class of the day, and sure enough it didn’t start until 9:45 am.

“Our class?” She asked skeptically.

“Yes our class.” George replied, a rich grin on his face. Reaching over to Paris, he touched a long, elegant finger to the side of her glasses. “You should get contacts. Eyes that bright shouldn’t be hidden.”

Twisting her head out of reach, Paris frowned and started back the way she had came, down the long, expansive corridor.

“I take it you didn’t have breakfast yet?” He called after her, an odd tone to his voice, as though he was manipulating her somehow. Paris turned her head to the side as she walked, watching him get farther and farther away.

“I had a bagel.” She said softly, not quite sure that he had heard her. “I’m fi--”

“That’s where you’re wrong, my angel. I didn’t see you take anything.”

Paris let out a small cry as she realized he was directly behind her, gaining distance every second. Before her fingers reached the hallway’s last door, the one that led out to the pavilion, her arm was pulled back gently.

“I wasn’t hungry.” She protested, gently pulling her hand away and turning the handle. The door opened an inch before George’s hand reached around her and pushed it shut.

“Not even a little?”

Paris paused, confused whether to admit that she was actually incredibly hungry or leave the dark confines of the narrow hallway immediately. Unfortunately, George read the pause perfectly, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

“There’s a small Café down the road. No more than a mile. If you would accompany me, we could both get a bit to eat.”

“But I saw you eating a donut before with Yukari.” Paris said, furrowing her brows. She backed away as he leaned his face close to hers, the smile still there.

“I have a fast metabolism. Say you’ll come and Ill escort you to you’re first period class.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t need an escort. I have the room numbers right-- hey!” Shocked, Paris looked at her empty hand, the one that had held the schedule in it a second before. Doubting, George held up the neatly folded chart in his hand, waving it just out of reach in front of her.

“I could just get another one.” She protested as she started getting tired of his nonsense.

“Really?” George smiled. There was almost a mocking tone to his voice. “Do you want Mrs. Yazawa to think you’re a klutz on the first day of school? She may look nice, but incompetence is her one pet peeve.”

Paris bit her lip.

“I just to have breakfast with you, my angel.” He said, reading her expressions perfectly. “Just breakfast.”

“Well, I guess we have enough time...”

“That’s the spirit?” He said with a cloy grin, leaning back so that the door opened wide. With that, the two headed out onto the pavilion, the shorter, dazed girl following a ostentatiously dressed designer who had gotten his way once again.