CharLena's First Encounter

As a member of the Languages Club, Lena had to stay back in school on the first day back. The summer air was still there which made it all the more disappointing, but she had learned to accept renunciation as a part of life. After all, losing one's sister does make them learn a few things.

She also knew that detention was going on today, which was why she wasn't surprised when she saw the new boy (a troublemaker, she had heard) sitting on the bench, waiting for his father to take him home.

"Hello?" she called.

Charles had just finished up on his detention, and he was making his way out of the school. That was his third school in two years and expulsion had nothing to do with it. It all had to do with his father's work, to say the least.

He heard someone calling for him as he sat on the bench waiting for Father, and he turned around. He faced a young girl, but she was older than him by a couple of years. He called back, "Yeah. Hello there!"

Lena nodded. She walked over to the boy and sat next to him on the bench. Now, she was definitely sure she had never seen him before. The hair and the eyes, she had definitely seen their colour, but not that exact combination. She pursed her lips. He seemed interesting enough.

"Well, are you new around here? Or have you hid yourself so well I actually missed seeing you?" she asked, tilting her head to one side. She should really be going back home on her bike, but she was sure Mother wouldn't notice if she was a hundred hours late.

"N-No, I'm new," Charles replied, shaking his head easily. Even if he wasn't new he would have told that lie. This girl looked as if she was ready to eat someone even if they were not dead yet.

"I'm Charles," he added, taking out his hand for her to shake. "Charles Prentiss." If that could get him on her good books, that was good enough.

Lena took Charles's hand and shook it firmly in her own. Something about this boy's voice made her think he was scared of her, and honestly, she had no idea why. (These were the days before she became judgmental of everything and anything.) She looked at the poster on the wall, holding all of the names of the Year Ones who had excelled last year. She could see her portrait at the very top, being the best one. Her smile was undoubtedly over the top, but she looked... cute.

"Well, I'm up there somewhere," she replied, still looking at the poster on the wall - or as she'd like to call it in her mind, the Hall of Fame, which is what that poster was called. "Which one am I?"

Charles looked at the poster carefully. He immediately noticed the girl's overly bright at the top: Lena Vorstenbach, 1A. He laughed lightly at her smile. It was pretty and cute. Two very good things.

His face then loomed towards the bottom of the poster, and he saw a girl looking absolutely depressed. She had brown hair that was cropped incredibly short: Magda Meminger, 1C.

"That one?" he asked, pointing to the picture of Magda.

Lena raised an eyebrow and tried to not lunge herself at this other boy and make him bleed. Magda Meminger? Honestly? Well, weren't they total opposites? One of them was smart and kind of crazy, the other was just smart and boring. Still, Lena managed to outdo her in all her tests last year, explaining her top position.

The blonde thought about this another way and realized that Charles could just be messing with her. Or he was only joking. That seemed like a liable excuse, didn't it? After all, friends - or perhaps, acquaintances - would joke around.

"Nope," she replied.

Charles laughed. "I know," he replied, pointing to the top picture. "Your name is Lena. That's a pretty name."

It was a really pretty name that reminded him of what his sister was not: not brash and annoying. But he only just met Lena, so he wouldn't know much.

Lena shrugged her shoulders. "Lena's a common name in Germany," she pointed out, her voice becoming firm and impatient as if she was lecturing someone. "And Charles sounds rather... English, don't you think?" She pursed her lips and observed Charles carefully.

Her voice became calmer and more gentle when she next spoke. "Are you English? I mean, your German is perfect..."

Charles nodded, "Yeah. Half English, half Irish by blood." He had never told the truth this smoothly before, but something about Lena told him she will keep it a secret.

He asked her, "And you are fully German, I believe?"

Lena laughed in good humour. "Goodness no! I do seem like it, don't I?" She shrugged her shoulders and looked at the floor for a second. "I'm only two-quarters German. The other quarters are Finnish and Russian." She hoped he would get the joke; two quarters was technically a half.

But she was the only person who would any fun in manipulating facts and turning them into jokes.

Charles's eyes widened. "What's a quarter?" he asked, scratching his head. He was never a good student in class. Never was, never will be.

"Shouldn't you be going home now?" he asked. Lena seemed like the goody-two-shoes type, and he wondered if her parents cared at all if she went home late.

Lena quite nearly shrieked when Charles asked her. Well, how could anyone live their lives without knowing what fractions were? Then again, Charles was only six. "You're learn when you're older," she replied bluntly.

Shaking her head in pride, Lena replied, "Mother and Father have all of their business shit to deal with! I'll go home on my bike." She spat their names like it was dirt, and groaned at the thought of them. Of course, she hated them. "Hey - isn't your father picking you up or something?"

Charles gasped when Lena swore. "How can you swear?" he whispered. "I'm a very, very bad boy, and I don't swear!" He shook his head and waggled his finger in front of her.

Charles looked at his feet when Lena mentioned his father. "I don't know... Dad is probably busy with Millicent. She's just born, you know."

"Swearing is nothing, Charles, trust me," Lena replied, shaking it off. Honestly - who would make such a big deal over swearing? The young girl herself had been swearing since she could talk, maybe even earlier.

"Oooh, your little sister?" Lena asked in interest. "I wish I had a little sister! I'm the youngest, unfortunately. But that means I should get more presents, right? No! I usually get the least!" She realized that she was revealing too much, too overly much. She then decided to turn away from Charles and observe the plants near her.

Charles blinked at Lena's anger. "Whoa - it's okay! I usually get the least presents too. But I have been an only child for nearly six years..." he explained, trying to get her to calm down.

He watched Lena turn her pretty little face away from him and towards the plant. "It's okay to talk about your feelings, you know. That's completely normal."

Raising an eyebrow skeptically, Lena gently pointed out, "But aren't you six years old?" She tilted her head to one side and shook her head. "Siblings can be fun, but siblings can be hell. If you need advice, I'll be in the library."

Lena turned around from the plant, and she could only squeak, "It is?" Her words were lost; she was used to people hiding her feelings from her, and vice versa.

Charles nodded. Yes he was six. He then understood was Lena was trying to say. Whoopsie daisies. He nodded again, saying, "That's nice of you. Where is the library?"

He put a protective arm around Lena. "Yeah, of course. Friends do that, do they?"

Lena had to stop herself from coughing. This school was rather big for a school, but surely the schoolhouses weren't that difficult to navigate, or were they? He was a newcomer, so she let it slide, just this once. "Okay, take the second left when you enter the building from this entrance," she replied, facing the doorway. "Keep walking, and go up the stairs. Turn left and go straight. It should be right in front of you."

She blinked furiously. "Whoa, wait - we're friends?" she asked in shock. It wasn't the fact that Charles was her friend, it was the fact that someone actually wanted to be her friend!

"Thanks," Charles replied plainly, smiling at her. "You'll see me soon, then."

He nodded, "Why? Has no one wanted to be your friend before?"

Lena nodded, "You're very welcome." It was nice to know that besides from his behaviour problems in the classroom, he was, really, a very polite boy.

Shaking her head, Lena decided to pour most of her rage that had been building up inside her for over a year. That might not sound like very long, but to someone as young as Lena, that felt like an eternity. "No! I'm crazy, and I deserve it!" she wailed, "I make flowers appear out of nowhere, and when I write and put the pencil down the pencil keeps writing! I'm an evil girl!" She sighed and looked up at the sky, hoping Charles doesn't see a tear in her eye.

Charles patted Lena's arm gently. "That's okay, that's because they're not magical folk, like us," he replied kindly. "I can do that too. That's why I get into so much trouble at school. I don't really do anything, but everyone blames me." He shook his head at all the times he did get in trouble without him trying.

Lena nodded, turning back towards Charles. A lot more things made sense now. That was why Mother told her to never do magical things in public. They were not like wizards and witches - but why? Everyone deserves a little magic in their lives, don't they? Everyone except Mother, Father, and a bunch of other people she didn't care about. "I guess you're right," she replied, smiling.

Her smile continued to shine on her face when she asked, "I like you, Charles. I like you a lot!" she began, her smile growing bigger. "Have you seen how some people call themselves 'best friends'? I want us to be best friends too!"

Charles's eyes widened at the mention of being 'best friends'. He never had one in his life either, not a proper one. Lena seemed excited at the idea, so why not?

"Yes!" he agreed, his heart thumping quickly. "We are best friends!"

Lena laughed. She finally had a best friend all to herself, one that would tell her all their secrets, and vice versa. They will conquer the forest at night, and they will play together every single minute of the day, every day of the week.

"Hey - why don't you go to my house and play? I'll send you home at night!" she grinned, walking up to the bicycle. She sat herself and got ready to paddle away.