The class was in an uproar. Nothing the teacher did or said could calm the waves of talking that naturally made their way to the front. Unfortunately the situation had been like this for a few days ever since it had been announced they would be receiving a transfer student. The entire class was curious as all they had been given was a name, Dilan Rembrant. Their curiosity however would soon come to an end because the new kid was scheduled to come that very day.
"I wonder what he looks like" one girl wondered dreamily.
"I hope he plays basketball" commented a boy to his friend, "We could use another player."
"Shh! He'll be here any minute" said yet another quite ignored voice.
Everyone had their own opinions and ideas on what they thought the new student should be like and were sharing those opinions whether they were wanted or not. All noise stopped though when the door to the classroom opened.
"Here you are, room three ten" the voice of one of the assistant principals said from outside the classroom.
"Thank you" replied a clearly feminine and slightly British voice.
Twenty-nine pairs of eyes watched as the owner of the second voice walked up to the front and handed the teacher a note. Confused she looked at it as though she didn't know what to think. After a few moments she looked up and announced
"Class, please welcome Dilan Rembrant."
Like the teacher the class was confused. In front of them stood a tall girl with black dreadlocks, wearing a black skirt and purple tank top with a black jacket, fingerless gloves, and knee high black boots. With her arms crossed over her chest and a slight scowl on her face she looked like someone you didn't want to mess with.
"I guess I should properly introduce myself" she said calmly, "My name is Dilan Rembrant as you've all heard before."
All she received in return were silent stares from her new classmates. No one knew what to think; this wasn't what they had expected. Dilan thought she would be used to this kind of reaction by now, but apparently she wasn't.
"You're staring at me because of my name aren't you?" she snapped angrily, "Maybe my parents wanted a boy, ok?"
Without another word she sat down in the available seat, and scowled at the rest of the class. Within a week her reputation had completely gone downhill. People seemed to think that because she had a boy's name she hated the world and wanted to make everyone's life horrible. It didn't help that she had beaten up a kid named Kyle only a day after she arrived; he had been making fun of her name.
She was viewed as being moody, irritable, and grouchy in that rip your head off kind of way so not many people came up to her. It became popular to dare people to go talk to her because everyone knew that no one would; they were too scared of her. Things went like this for a while until one day someone decided to take the challenge.
Vincent Braig wasn't the type of person people expected to take this kind of a dare. He was the kind of person who made fun of people like Dilan. However he was also the kind of person who would take any dare, so even though everyone was sure he would fail he decided to try.
On the day he decided to take the dare everyone was watching both him and Dilan. Neither seemed to notice or mind; Vincent knew why they were staring and Dilan had become used to it. Deciding lunch would the best time to start Vincent took the seat across from Dilan and then asked
"May I sit here?"
"Sure" she mumbled not looking up from a piece of paper she was writing on.
For a while they sat in silence, keeping to themselves until finally Vincent got curious.
"What're you writing?"
"A recipe for my culinary arts class" she replied still not looking up.
"Oh, that's cool" he said going back to minding his own business.
They sat there awkwardly in silence as before, Vincent eating his lunch and Dilan working on her recipe. After a while Vincent finished his lunch and eyed Dilan's unopened lunch box somehow still hungry. Instead of asking permission he grabbed the lunch box and opened it up. Inside he found potato soup, homemade bread, and white chocolate chip cookies that made his mouth water.
"You can take it, I don't want it" said Dilan eyes still on her paper.
"Oh, thanks" He sampled everything, savoring every last bite. "This is delicious! Did your mom make it?"
She looked up and laughed something he was really not expecting. Everyone in ear shot turned and stared in shock. They too hadn't expected to hear anything remotely cheerful from the newest student.
"Last time my mom cooked most of the kitchen had to be replaced and we thought the house was going to burn down" she chuckled, "No, my mom didn't make any of this, I did."
"Wow I didn't think girls like you did stuff like this" he replied fully expecting her to get angry.
"What do you mean?" she asked calmly surprising him again.
"Well, I haven't been paying attention, but from what I've heard you don't seem like the kind of girl who would enjoy cooking. Everyone else seems to think you're moody and grouchy and irritable all the time. Half the time they're afraid you're going to bite their heads off." he replied.
"That's because they only see me when I'm angry" she laughed, "If they actually tried talking to me instead of making fun of my name or cowering in fear maybe I wouldn't seem so intimidating."
"I think you're pretty cool" said Vincent and he really meant it too.
Dilan smiled to herself. Finally she had gotten someone to see she wasn't what she appeared to be. Contrary to what everyone else thought she wasn't overly moody or grouchy, she just didn't like people making fun of her name. She wished people could just see outside the box, but showing them worked too.
Moral: Never judge a book by its cover