Rebirth Chapter 1

**Author's Note: My first romance story, so sorry for the stumbling. Also, the romance doesn't come till later.**

Chapter 1

Hopscotch was cool, but Casper Wolfe didn’t play. Pigtails were cool, but Casper Wolfe didn’t have them. Skirts were cool, but Casper Wolfe never put one on. And yet, somehow, Casper Wolfe was still cool.

She was cool when she walked into the kindergarten room wearing fluorescent orange clothes and mismatched socks, and she was cool when she stumbled up to the teacher and kicked her in the shins with untied shoes. It was especially cool when she stayed up at naptime talking and laughing like a wild hyena.

On her first day of school she established her explosive personality among her fellow students, and they felt cool talking to her at Playtime.

“Hi, what’s your name?” Casper looked lazily over from where she had been painting to see a short blonde girl wearing all pink and smiling at her. For a moment Casper didn’t respond- she looked back at her mess of a painting, considering. Glancing out of her peripheral vision to make sure the girl was still there, Casper threw the paint brush down and began painting determinedly with her hands. Let the girl make what she would of that! Did she hear an admiring gasp?

“Casper Wolfe,” she answered, smiling at her painting. She dipped her blue hands in the paint again.

The girl was overjoyed to have gotten a response, “Casper? My name’s Melissa! What are you painting?”

Casper shrugged, annoyed with the questions, and answered, “I don’t know.” Melissa was quiet, but Casper could still feel her there. It was her own fault she decided to be so nosy! Casper drew a stick person on her paper and glared at it. She dipped her hands in the blue paint again.

“Cathper?” A new voice joined the pair, and Casper turned more quickly this time, aggravated. Seriously, why did everyone need to know her own business!

She saw a tall boy with messy hair and a smirking smile. His lisp annoyed her, and she responded snippily, “Yeah.”

He answered promptly, a smile brightening his eyes, “I’m Jamie… Cathper… Like Cathper the ghotht?”

Casper stared at Jamie’s grinning face. Had he just called her a ghost? She was annoyed again, her name was much better than a silly ghost. Who was this kid anyways? She glared at him and accused, “What did you just call me?”

“A ghotht! A ghotht, everybody look we have a ghotht in our clath!” The boy reminded her of a monkey, chattering and chirping. His smirk grew more pronounced; he was getting really excited now.

Fists clenched, Casper demanded, “Stop right now.”

“What’cha gonna do? Dithappear, Ghotht?” Jamie leaned forward, a mischievous gleam to his grey-blue eyes.

There were several signs. Casper’s skinny little arms were taut and shivered with violent convulsions as her mind grasped the fact that this little boy was making her feel insignificant and she was losing the struggle for superiority. There was no losing- she couldn’t afford to lose. Her feet inched apart, assuming a wide, bracing, aggressive stance. Her breath came heavily and too fast.

And then Casper smacked Jamie hard, like a whip, knocking him over. As she watched him, lying there at her feet, a great sense of triumph came over her. She sniffed testily in his general direction, ignoring the outrage clear on his face, and returned to her painting. She added a smiley face to the mess which mirrored her own.

As she was contemplating her victory, she heard a small sound somewhere between a sob and a growl. Like a little kicked puppy, she thought. The next thing she knew, Casper was shoved sideways from her easel and onto the purple-carpeted floor.

Their positions were reversed, for there above her stood Jamie. And then Casper Wolfe was really cool- she had an archenemy.

* * * *

Casper slammed the door to the Principal’s Office behind her, rattling the sign that read: Mr. Rhodes, Principal of Woodruff High School. The room she’d entered seemed to dampen and fade with her appearance, the cheery red chairs darkening to blood-red, the oak polished desk tainted poison-purple, and long angled shadows were cast on the man sitting in the chair behind the desk with his arms folded. Casper’s disheveled appearance so contrasted Mr. Rhodes’ crisp formality that it was almost humorous.

Her hair twirled in small wisps and curls around her, several strands in her eyes, and sweat streaked down her pretty face to drip off her prominently pointed nose. A blossoming black eye and a split lip were slapped on almost decoratively, matching with the scuffed and torn baggy cargo pants which hung loosely from her hips. And on either side of her tight green muscle-shirt, which was skewed sideways, her well-toned arms trembled with some strange emotion.

Mr. Rhodes was picture perfect, not a hair out of place. His suit matched his shoes, which complemented his pants which went with the tie that matched his socks. His fingers were steepled decisively, his brow creased with a punishing glare. For a moment it seemed there was just the two of them in the hot, dark room, staring at each other- each daring the other to move.

And the funny thing was Mr. Rhodes knew she wasn’t angry with him at all.

It was not just the two of them in the hot, dark room, though Casper wished it was. For in that room was Jamie Gunner, Casper’s hated rival since her first day at Woodruff Elementary School.

Jamie was similarly out of sorts. One of the legs of his jeans was halfway up his calf, and his formfitting black shirt had been yanked sideways, revealing half of his broad shoulder. His lip and eyebrow were split, his already messy hair was mussed, and a generous scrape adorned his left cheekbone. The expression on his face was one of deadly impassiveness; an eagle patiently eyeing a field mouse.

Casper took a deep breath, her lungs filling painfully, and chose a seat as far from Jamie as possible.

Mr. Rhodes stacked his papers neatly and addressed the two students, “Mrs. Wolfe and Mr. Gunner should be arriving shortly. In the meantime, do either of you have anything to say to each other?”

Oh, Casper had plenty to say to him, that was for sure! But- Jamie’s glare met Casper’s as they both shook their heads- suddenly the room seemed charged with intense anger. Mr. Rhodes cleared his throat like the referee between two professional wrestlers intent on ripping each other’s throats out.

Mr. Gunner entered, his eyes swiveling until they pierced on his son. He was a broad tall man, with laugh lines and a rough appearance. But Jamie seemed to shrivel under the icy glare and Casper was as struck with how alike they looked as she was with a sick pleasure at seeing Jamie squirm.

“Whatever this is about, Mr. Rhodes, I can assure you Jamie will be punished. But, before we go on, I want the specifics. Why are you bleeding, Jamie?” Mr. Gunner’s tone reminded Casper vaguely of her own mother’s, which annoyed her.

Whatever Jamie’s answer was, Casper missed it- because as she turned her attention to listen to it, the sight of him took her back to a few moments ago.

It all happened so fast. One minute she’d been vaguely enjoying her plastic-cheese pizza, and the next it was on her shoe. She remembered the feel of her neck muscles tensing as she turned to see Jamie Gunner standing there, his characteristic smirk taunting. There had been an exchange of nonverbal glares before twelve years of friction snapped and she’d launched at him.

That was the important factor of the story, he’d provoked but she’d attacked first. From then on it’d been a combination fistfight/wrestling match until the lunch lady was able to call security and get them into the office. Their parents had been called and here they were.

“It was a full physical assault on both parts,” Mr. Rhodes suddenly announced, as if to clarify what a fight was. Casper struggled with an unruly laugh and half-succeeded in turning it into a cough.

Jamie’s father looked like he wanted to say something, but Casper’s mom entered at that moment. Dismally, Casper noted she looked flustered and annoyed. Well- as flustered and annoyed as she could look. Casper’s mom was tall, with a long face and defined cheekbones. Blue eyes twinkled when she laughed, testified by her own set of laugh lines, and her dark hair fell silkily to her shoulders. But boy, could she look like a bulldog.

Her gaze connected with Jamie’s dad and looked him up and down, her expression softening enough to ask, “Are you the father of the boy who my daughter beat up?”

At this Casper laughed, unable to suppress it in the slightest. Her mom knew her well! She dodged her mom’s laser eyes and snaked her gaze to look over at Jamie and mouth, ‘poor baby!’. Jamie’s expressionless face shifted viciously, giving her a rude hand gesture at the same time. He hadn’t changed much since kindergarten, she thought.

“No m’am,” Jamie’s father said with a familiar half smile, “I am the father of the boy who just picked a fight with your daughter.” Yeah, and lost! Sort of…

“No one did,” Casper added, noting to herself that she was getting butted out of her own punishment.

“No one did what?” Casper’s mom was harsh, unforgiving, her glare refocusing and sharpening as it fastened on her daughter.

“No one won,” Casper explained lazily, trying to pretend that she wasn’t shriveling under the look she was given.

Her mom went into punishment mode, “Not another word from you. If you think that’s all that matters, then I have failed you as a parent. So, to fix that, you’re going to be spending a lot more time with me.”

And so Casper sank back into her chair and didn’t speak for the rest of their time in that small, dark office.