Chapter Five
Everyone seemed to stop what they were doing to check us out when we arrived at school. It was an hour before classes started, but it appeared that most of the students were already on campus. They looked at us like we were the missing links. The teachers gave us that “curious side-ways glance” in passing. These first day investigations are familiar to me.
I wasn’t paying too much attention to the strangers and their stare-fest. I was immersed in my pouting. The car ride to school was spent with me deadlocked in an argument with Tray. I had been trying to convince him to let me start my sophomore year at this school, instead of continuing my freshman studies.
He had only smiled in reply and shook his head without responding any further. It’s so infuriating when he refuses to give into my demands without a single explanation. He’s so stubborn.
My brother frequently updates his birth certificate so he can attend the same school with me. At one point in his ‘Tray-created-school-days-time-travels’ he turned himself into my twin. For some unexplainable reason, he couldn’t bring himself to leave me alone in any classroom during that entire school year. He has always been a physical giant compared to me. So our twin-status earned us more than a few curious stares.
This raging freshman debate between us always ends in my defeat. He won’t give in to my desires no matter how many logical and convincing arguments I present. He gets to be older and younger at his leisure, but I’m forever, my own biological age. It just doesn’t seem fair that he won’t let me have this one small ‘time-travel’ experience.
I pestered him repeatedly to add a single year to my birth certificate. I even offered to go through my sophomore year twice. He had already made up his mind and nothing I might say would convince him to alter it.
I was never allowed to attend school at all, until Tray ran away with me. My affinity for learning likely stems from that fact. I enjoy school and don’t want to rush through it. But, I do want to skip ninth grade.
The ridiculous hazing from the upper classmen is the thing I detest. I am frequently on the receiving end of their nonsense already because of my on-going, new student status. Therefore, I believe it is only fair to get a free pass out of this freshman hazing.
My brother evidently, disagrees. Even in only a few short weeks of ninth grade studies, I have already been subjected to several pranks. Tray says I should just ‘roll with the punches’ and try to enjoy it. He believes freshman hazing is a rite of passage. If that turns out to be the truth of the matter, then our modern society is definitely on the decline.
I shuffled begrudgingly down the hallway behind him, pouting about my imminent defeat. Once we walk inside, I will, once again, be sentenced to freshman Hades. I mindlessly shifted my backpack to the opposite shoulder and winced from the pain. I keep forgetting about my injuries.
The bag dropped from my shoulder and I held my breath. Immobile from pain, I struggled against my natural reaction. Horrible waves of agony assaulted me.
Tray continued walking, without noticing my halt. I couldn’t inform him of anything at that moment, not without screaming. I didn’t want to terrify him. There’s nothing he can do for me, but he will come unglued in his overly protective parental panic anyway.
I clenched my teeth, waiting for the pain to subside.
Two preppy girls rushed by me without looking in my direction. They ran down the steps to the basement. There are no classes in a boiler room.
I tried to decipher this unknown turn of events. The new student standing frozen in the hallway typically trumps most other things.
My discomfort was still torturous, but I followed them anyway. I just have to find out what those girls are up to. It has to be something very intriguing if they ignored a prime opportunity to scope out the new kid.
Leaning cautiously over the railing, I looked down into the darkness. I couldn’t see anything – curses. Curiosity wins out in my world over all forms of pain, personal safety and practically everything else too. My neck stretched into an awkward position as I angled my body. I need to see down the steps, but no amount of contortions helped. The bottom of the staircase was well hidden in the shadows.
Not one to ever give up, I resolved to head down there the instant I finished registering. I turned to walk away, but something happened to recapture my interest.
I saw a flicker of blinding light over my shoulder. By the time I turned back, it had already faded. I could still see the shadow of it behind my eye lids, although I wasn’t even looking in that direction. Those white streaks were so brilliant I could barely see beyond them.
This strange occurrence piqued a new level of interest for me. I just have to discover what source can create such a brilliant light – right now.
Tray discovered I was missing and caught up with me before I made it to the first landing. He sighed in aggravation, giving me an exasperated look. Then, he ushered me back up the stairs toward the office.
So, not only had I lost the freshman argument with him, I also didn’t get to see what’s so interesting at the bottom of those stairs. It would really be pointless to argue with him anymore – especially since I had just scared him. He has been forced many times to locate me after one of my famous ‘Ember-disappearing-acts.’
Walking down the hallway in his view, I thought of another very logical reason to skip this grade. I had already devoured my freshman textbooks at my last school, even though we were only a few weeks into the semester. That’s my typical pattern. Once I master the material, I can easily get distracted. That inevitably leads to trouble in my life. But, Tray is not going to listen to any more arguments on the subject.
Stupid, ridiculous freshman rites of passage – what’s this world coming to anyway??
The secretary smiled as Tray handed our ‘school files’ to her. He explained that our parents had an emergency situation and had to fly back to Oklahoma.
As usual, my guidance counselor called me back first. Several student aides and teachers were also walking in the narrow office hallway. We had to turn sideways in order for everyone to get by.
Mr. Marts leafed through my file while I attempted to display the typical ‘teenager disinterest in all things administrative.’
“Well Ember, I understand your parents couldn’t attend this appointment today because of your grandfather, huh?” Mr. Marts asked me once he eventually looked up from the papers.
His eyes widened with interest and I rolled mine in reply. I also had the corresponding facial expression to match my indifferent attitude. Teenagers don’t usually demonstrate patience or concern about this enrollment process. So I had to behave accordingly.
“Yep, he needed them so…” I offered cryptically, without finishing the sentence.
I prayed he wouldn’t pursue this line of questioning, anymore. I knew our background story, but I was still anxious.
“Sorry to hear that. I don’t see where your parents listed their places of employment…” Mr. Marts said as he searched through the papers some more.
“It’s some new tech company, but I didn’t get the name. They left in the middle of the night. My brother knows it…”
“I guess we can fill in the blanks when they get back. Hmmm, do you know if your file includes your test scores?”
I responded with a vacant stare and a shoulder shrug. Sharing too much knowledge about my school file will inevitably lead to more questions. It turns out that most people prefer to have the answers supplied to them instead of having to put forth any effort.
My plan to sneak down to the basement would never be realized because Tray somehow managed to get out of his session before me. Meeting in a conference room, we were required to watch a long, dull video about the school. Then, the head counselor read the rules and policies aloud. She declared that all personal entertainment devices – like my portable CD player – are strictly forbidden on school grounds. Failure to co
mply results in a day of detention and the electronic device would be confiscated until the end of the school year. That seems too harsh. Intentionally looking away from the front pocket of my backpack, I am already in policy violation.
Tray and I exchanged our class schedules. Sadly, I realized that I wouldn’t see him very much throughout the day. I was really disappointed. It makes me feel better to see him during breaks. Our classes are on opposite sides of the school though. At least, our lunches overlap by fifteen minutes.
By the time our orientation was finished, the school day was almost over. A student assistant was assigned to show us our lockers. Sara giggled nervously any time she looked at my brother and completely ignored me.
I could almost see the wheels spinning in her head as she tried to plot some way to spend time alone with Tray. She asked for my schedule – planning to ditch me, first and take him the long way to class. That’s an excellent strategy.
Unfortunately, her plan has one big flaw. My brother does not have afternoon classes. He foiled Sara’s ingenious plot by asking her to just point him to the parking lot. She wasn’t about to give up that easily. Prepared to go beyond the call of duty, she walked him outside, intent on showing him the way.
“Thanks…I’ve got it from here…” Tray offered to his adoring fan before he turned to me. “I’ll be waiting, Ember…”
Sara led me to my English class without speaking. Evidently, she doesn’t find me nearly as captivating as my brother. All eyes were riveted in my direction as we walked through the door together. I was dressed just like many of the other students that were currently fixated on me. But, I might as well have worn spiked leather pants and metal-studded stiletto heels for all the good my regionally appropriate outfit did me.
Guys pointed and whispered to each other. They punched each other in the arm like they had suddenly realized a new conquest. Most of the girls simply stared frostily in my direction – well, except the one girl who looked at me and snorted. She quickly returned her gaze to her paper because that strange noise caught everyone’s attention. The class erupted into laughter.
Although I am not the best judge of peer group behaviors, I’m certain that a snort can’t possibly mean anything good. I felt more like an alien intruder than a new student, but I refuse to display weakness.
Mercifully, the only available desk was in the back of the classroom. The teacher told the other students my name and motioned for me to take my seat. Then, he continued with the lesson. Only a few minutes of class was remaining, so he didn’t want to waste them on me. That happily means I get a stay of execution on telling my two minute life history to this room full of unfriendly strangers until tomorrow.
The class was working on a piece of literature that I had already covered. So I sat at my desk and tried to interpret the student’s reaction. I tried my hand at reading body language and facial expressions because my brother isn’t here to interpret them for me. That turned out to be a pointless endeavor since I stink at reading people.
I was grateful when the bell finally rang. I gathered my things slowly and walked up to the teacher. He asked about my last English class and I told him that they were slightly behind his material – my standard answer.
The students were still gathered outside the door. They whispered and pointed in my direction.
I promised to let my English teacher know if I needed extra help with any of the assignments. But, it turns out that school work wouldn’t be what I needed assistance with, at all…