“You’re attending a party to which you were invited by your professor in History, and the one thing you chose to bring is a slice of cold pizza?” The professor was wearing a long, brown leather coat and the interior of the car was in a matching, slightly torn fashion. Marcus was amazed that the professor could be any more awesome than he already was as a person, but the leather jacket added to that image. He looked respectable in it, while still keeping a subtle, grimy look that fit on him surprisingly well. Laughing made his face look younger, although he had already overshot 40 a long time ago.
“I’m sorry, professor. I was just about to eat when-,“ Marcus was interrupted.
“No need for titles out of school, Marcus. I have a name; don’t be afraid to use it.”
“I’m sorry, Jake. I’m just so used to calling you professor at school; you get pissed at us if we don’t,” Marcus was still confused; he had no idea where the car was taking him. He had never left Toledo before; his mother had always said that everything they needed was right there in their city. He folded the pizza slice and took a first bite.
“Well, we’re not at school now, are we?” Jake opened the glove compartment and took out a napkin and put it in Marcus’s lap. A split second later, a droplet of tomato sauce dripped off of the delicious salami pizza and landed on the handkerchief.
“I guess not. Where exactly are we going?” Marcus was curious, and tried to spot any road signs through the window, but the outside had nothing to offer but cold, dark woods and falling snow.
“To my place. It’s just a few more miles. We’ll be there any minute now,” Before long, Jake parked his car in front of a small house in the middle of nowhere, and the two of them walked to the front porch. The lights were turned on inside, but Marcus would never assume that there would be a party going on. When Jake had turned his key and opened the door, Marcus was greeted by a truly beautiful sight.
Standing in the living room stood a fair young woman, approximately his age. She had bright hair, all in a big knot on the back of her graciously shaped head. Her contour was in shape as well, enhanced by the black, short, tight leggings and white tank top she was wearing. She was lying face down, but as Marcus walked into the hall, she placed her hands flat on the floor next to her, using her arms to push her torso up, supporting her bosom and stomach above the floor. Her back was arched backwards, and simply put, she looked like a goddess.
Her eyes were facing the far wall of the living room. She was apparently watching an instructional yoga video, but relaxed her body when she noticed that Jake and Marcus walked into the room. The walls were timber, and there were golden ornaments on black shelves all over the far wall. Amidst the scattered pieces of art was the widescreen TV, flat on the wall like a painting. The girl reached for the power button, turned off the television and pivoted on her toes to face Marcus. She was blushing as she unleashed her long, sparkling white hair. Marcus looked at the nimble hand that stretched toward him. It was pale, nearly as white as her tank top. He looked at her eyes, and they were glistening like red roses covered in dewdrops. Her look was excited, and he saw her lips tremble. She was about to speak. He wondered if her voice would match her charming looks, and was pleasantly surprised by her soft tone.
“You must be Marcus, I’m so glad to meet you!” Marcus touched her hand, and shook it carefully. It felt so soft and smooth, and it was warm and pleasant to hold. He had never felt so welcome in his life. The professor walked behind the girl and rested his hand on her shoulder; they were both smiling from the bottom of their hearts. Marcus wasn’t expecting the professor’s next words:
“This is Lola, my daughter. Would you care to go slip into something more appropriate, dear? We have some celebrating to do. The others should be here any minute,” the professor got a kiss on the cheek from her before she walked out of the room. Somewhere deep inside of him, Marcus wished that Lola would turn around to give him a kiss as well. He heard her running up the stairs, probably to her room. He was curious about her. Why hadn’t he heard about the professor’s gorgeous daughter? Who were the people they were expecting? They sat down in the two sofas that were dressed in an old fabric, filled with decorative symbols and colors. He presented his questions to Jake, keeping to himself the notion of Lola being attractive. The answers were informative, as always with the professor.
“Lola has been living in foster families since she was little. Everyone was afraid of her because of her pale skin and red eyes, until six years ago when she was left in my care. I adopted her as my own daughter, homeschooling her since she was eleven. I would have let her study at Toledo High, but her skin condition prevents her from spending too much time in the sun,” the professor took off his glasses and leaned back in the comfortable sofa. He continued to answer Marcus’s second question, about the expected guests:
“The people I have invited to this celebration are a couple of friends of ours. You’ll get along just fine. Speaking of the devil, somebody is at the door.”
“I’ll get it,” Lola shouted as she swiftly came walking down the stairs. She was now wearing a white dress, with prints of red roses all over it. One of the two newly arrived guests spoke what Marcus was thinking:
“You’re looking like something out of a dream as always, Lola. Would you take this to the kitchen and open it? Thank you, dear.” Marcus heard Lola’s bare feet move from the hall to the kitchen. Soon the two men walked into the living room, one of them was blonde and had short hair, while the other had dark brown hair hanging over his face. The blonde one, who walked in first, was wearing black; a pair of tight jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. The brown-haired, slower man was wearing a gray hoodie and khakis.
Both of them are a lot younger than Jake, they don’t look much older than me, are they friends of Lola’s? Maybe this guy is her boyfriend, Marcus thought as he walked over to the first young man for a presentation. The blonde was quick and shook his hand in a friendly manner. His voice sounded young, but the words seemed to come from an adult:
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marcus. My name is Alexander. This will be an amazing night, I assure you,” Marcus was shocked, how did all these people know his name?
The other person, whose face was covered by messy hair, brought his hand forward much slower than Alexander had done. The handshake was sloppy, and so were his dull voice and the words he used it for:
“Hello, Marcus. I’m Thomas.” he seemed either shy or very unsocial.
“It’s nice to meet both of you,” Marcus replied. They all went to sit down in the sofas, Marcus and Jake in one and Alexander and Thomas in the other. Soon, Lola came in as well, carrying a tray with a champagne bottle and crystal glasses for all of them. Marcus was more confused than ever, as the glasses were filled up and handed out to the five of them. Lola sat down next to Marcus on the armrest of the sofa. The room was quiet; they were all waiting for Professor Jake Adams to speak. And it was truly a professor speaking, for his voice carried through the room in a way that only a teachers voice could:
“Marcus Lee approached me today, and showed me a remarkable find. Would you take out the book and show it to us, Marcus,” Lola, Alexander and Thomas were all watching eagerly as the book was brought out from Marcus's backpack to the table. The gem on the cover was lighting up the ceiling over it, and the entire room was filled with the yellow glow. The ancient artifacts on the wall glimmered in the peculiar light. The professor continued:
“This book, as we others know, is not just any kind of book. Tonight, we will celebrate that Marcus has found this Book of Life, and teach him about its secrets. Cheers!” Their glasses chimed in unison, except for Thomas’s, which was brought forward slightly after everyone else’s.
