Kekoa

By Sylvia Gillespie

Nightmares already haunted Kekoa before moving from paradise to drizzling rain. Used to moving, he didn't expect much from the new school, especially not a witch trying to kill him and destroy all the lives attached to their school. Now, he has to find a way to survive or doom the school to an everlasting curse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sylvia Gillespie
• Release date: Oct 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005785925

Sylvia Gillespie

Sylvia Gillespie has a BFA in Creative Writing for Entertainment from Full Sail University.Sylvia has been a Veterinary Technician, a customer service agent supporting home computers and network equipment, a warehouse worker, a surgery assistant for a Veterinary technician school, a janitor, a newspaper delivery girl, and has even picked corn to support her writing.She enjoys reading, writing, running (especially mud races), and spending time with her family.

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Kekoa

By Sylvia Gillespie

Copyright 2022

Smashwords Edition

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Cover art by design9creative

Palm tree vector between passages by mohamed_hassan from Pixaby

Chapter 1 – New School-New Life

The first day at a new high school was always rough. It seemed particularly cruel to Kekoa that it was his third first day at a new school in as many months. Considering how things were going for him, it might not be the year's last school, either. He would have to move again if his mom didn’t find a job soon.

If that wasn’t bad enough for a teenager to navigate, his first class was so crowded he had to sit on the floor in the back of the room with his long ultra-white legs bent over his backpack. To top it off, every other student was well dressed and very good-looking, unlike Kekoa in old shorts and a torn t-shirt that was entirely unsuited for the steel gray clouds out the window that were drizzling rain.

Someone was always staring back at him and chuckling. The laughter didn’t seem menacing. Everyone had been exceptionally kind and welcoming, but it still grated on Kekoa’s ragged nerves.

Mrs. Brown, the teacher, seemed as competent as a two-year-old as she shifted through her desk, searching for the roll while the class talked and joked in whispers.

Kekoa looked out the window. His thoughts drifted away to memories of warm winds and bright sun. His daydreams were full of perfectly blue skies over white sandy beaches. Finally finding the roll, Mrs. Brown started reading names, but Kekoa only heard the relaxing sound of waves.

Kek-kak- Mrs. Brown studdered, jerking Kekoa out of his thoughts to look at her. She was a cute teacher anyway, with her bouncy brown curls. The vacantness in her eyes gave her face eternal happiness. Young too, maybe not incompetent, just inexperienced, but Kekoa hadn't the mental capabilities for generosity at the moment.

Keh-KOH-ah, he pronounced for her, with an edge that made the class twitter.

Mrs. Brown looked at his name on the page and narrowed her eyes.

Kee is fine, Kekoa added.

Oh, that's much easier, Mrs. Brown said and grinned. Thank you, Kee. We'll get you a desk tomorrow, I promise. She continued with roll call.

I bet you were the most popular kid on your beach, Sharon whispered to him.

Kekoa jerked his head to see Sharon sitting at the desk closest to him. He studied her face. She was cute in a vacant way too, but her brown hair was straight, and her eyeliner was dark lines, which were quite fetching on her dark skin.

No, Kekoa muttered. He rubbed his cheek on his arm, fiddled with his bag, and looked back up, I was kinda the weird one.

Sharon giggled. Well, you won't be here with that sun-bleached hair. Everyone will love you.

Kekoa’s eyes hit the floor, and he ran his fingers through the sort of curly white-blonde hair on the top with shaved sides and back where the dark roots grew. He wished for the millionth time that he looked Hawaiian like the beach bum who fell in love with his mother, created baby Kekoa and kept them on the island for many happy years.

Why couldn't he have gotten a fraction of his dad's size or color? His eyes, maybe? Or his big strong arms that-Kekoa’s thoughts stuttered and crashed to a halt, and he looked at the door, wishing to flee into the rain, but he didn’t know where he would go, so he sighed and looked back to Sharon.

It'll fade soon enough here, Kekoa muttered.

It's still summer, at least. You can always go to the waterpark to keep it nice and bleached. Hey, maybe your dad, she said, but Kekoa looked away quickly at the word dad and laid his cheek on his arm. Can... she sputtered off for a moment. I'm sorry. Did I say something that upset you?

No, Kekoa said, putting his feet under himself and propping up to lean against the wall to look at Mrs. Brown, but she was doing the roll. The diversion was not enough. His eyes stung, so he rubbed them. We pretty far in the book? he asked, taking the new-looking English workbook from his worn gray backpack to flip through it.

Oh no. Not at all, Sharon said, leaning over towards Kekoa. You probably got Johnny's book. Johnny was only here a week, and then his mom won the lottery, and they moved again.

Sign me up for that, Kekoa said with a slight nod.

Sharon laughed loudly.

Kekoa glanced at Mrs. Brown, but she hadn’t noticed.

I know, right! Minny, the girl in front of Sharon, turned around to say. Minny had glasses and a steady eye. She was cute but in a business-like way.

Actually, Kekoa noticed, looking around, that all the girls were good-looking and that he was the only boy in class. Maybe they were all cute just because he was sixteen. The idea lightened his mood a little.

I bet they'll be bankrupt in a month and have to come crawling back, Minny said.

Most are, Kekoa muttered with a shrug. I'd still like to be rich. If even for a month.

Rich like Jason? Sharon asked, sighed, and propped her cheek on her hand to swoon. Jason's as rich as Carley. Maybe that's why they are together. Everyone says Carly is hot, but I bet they like her just cuz she's rich, and they want her money.

No, Minny said and looked right at Kekoa, She's gorgeous, and she knows it.

Kekoa frowned. There were enough of those kinds of girls on the beach. I hoped I’d left them behind.

Finished, Mrs. Brown tossed the roll on the desk.

Sharon tapped Minni on the shoulder, and they both looked forward alertly.

Perfect Attendance again! Good job, students! there was a little cheer over this.

Kekoa raised a brow as he looked at all the students, eager to learn. He had a long line of underfunded schools under his belt, and none of the students were that alert. It felt like a strange, unrealistic dream.

Ok, class, workbooks! Yay! Mrs. Brown said excitedly, and the students obediently reached for their books. Page 54, please, Mrs. Brown clarified. The girls grabbed their books, flipped to the page, and started working as if it was a test with an end time.

Finally, a distraction, Kekoa thought, but as he flipped through his book again to find page 54, he saw it wouldn't be much of one. The pages were already filled out. Not with work, however. The margins and every white space were doodles of birds of every shape. Even some of the letters were marching penguins, all in a line. Johnny must have been as bright as everyone else.

Kekoa looked around.

The students were working, and Miss. Brown was flipping through files in the filing cabinet for unfathomable reasons, making it clear that was all the instruction she planned on giving. Really?

Kekoa took a deep silent breath and closed his eyes to focus on memory. A white beach devoid of human life flooded his mind. Letting out his breath, Kekoa opened his eyes and concentrated on page 54. It was something about a nominative predicate. He knew nothing about predicates, nominative or not. Was it nominative? Like a native Hawaiian? Or more like nominating a person?

How are you doing, son? Mrs. Brown's voice so near his head made him jump slightly and look over to find she crouched beside him.

This is pretty hard, he said softly, pointing out the line of penguins. Sharon and Minny turned to look at what he was showing Mrs. Brown.

Sharon giggled. I guess Johnny liked penguins! she whispered.

Mrs. Brown smiled wider. Perhaps, she allowed. For now... Mrs. Brown took the workbook from Kekoa and went to the front of the room. She set the book down on her desk, sat at the desk, picked up another folder, and started working.

Kekoa raised both brows in surprise, but Sharon, Minny, and all the students quietly worked as if he didn’t exist. He had never really belonged, but at that moment, he felt alien. Desperate to find something to pass the time, Kekoa searched his backpack and found the English book. Checking the index, Kekoa flipped to the section about nominative predicates.

A predicate nominative or predicate noun completes a linking verb and renames the subject, he read softly to himself. Was that even English?