Two
It took Aurora two hours to get ready for school on Tuesday. We were a day late because Mom and Aurora had to start their new lives in a brand new outfit so we spent Monday shopping for new clothes. They shopped while I held bags. I wasn't much of a shopper, so one pair of jeans later I was done for the day. And at the rate they were shopping I figured they needed all the money they could get. I was pretty used to doing without, all for the cause. "I will not show up at a new school in my scuzzy clothes from last year." Aurora announced. "First impressions are so important."
Mom was in total agreement. "It's better if you two start tomorrow anyway. Besides, it's going to be a madhouse at your school today. If we wait I should be able to just breeze in and get you enrolled."
We spent the rest of the day browsing shops and wandering through department stores we were encountering for the first time. And Tuesday, when I woke up, an hour after my frantic sister, I walked into the kitchen, got a Pop Tart and wandered back to my room. I picked out my favorite shirt, a black shirt with one of my favorite bands on the front. I ordered that shirt with the money I had gotten for my birthday, and two weeks later I had another reason for my mom to complain about my clothes. It didn't really matter; I was up, dressed and fed. Mom had yet to darken the doorway of her bedroom. I could hear the shower going, but with any luck I could be out the door and at the bus stop in five minutes, and Mom wouldn't be any the wiser what I was wearing that "all-important" first day of school.
The bus stop for the high school was two blocks down on Forsythe Street, but that day Mom was driving us to school so she could get us both registered. It was Aurora's first year of high school, while I had the good fortune of facing my senior year in a new town. I felt kind of badly for Aurora, tackling high school without one familiar face in sight. But if anyone could adapt to a new environment it was my little sister. That's what she did in our old hometown, and with veritable ease. How a poor girl like Aurora was able to climb up the ranks so quickly in such entitled circles I would never know. Mom always made sure she never gave away her financial status to her friends, dressing her in clothes we couldn't afford, which is how I wound up in jeans and t-shirts most times. It wasn't just the wardrobe, however. Aurora just had a way about her to adapt to any situation, so long as it was shallow and devoid of thought or effort. If there was anything I certain about on this day of uncertainty, it was my little sister's ability to take a bad situation and work it to her complete advantage. If there were a separate Darwinism for social climbing Aurora would be one of the fittest, survival guaranteed.
As for myself, there was nothing but doubt. I didn't trust people...at all. As a result, I didn't make friends very easily. Add that to my carefree attitude on my appearance and I had quite an uphill battle to wage. I didn't want to seem untrusting or wary of strangers, but I couldn't trust the people I lived with. How in the hell was I expected to trust outsiders?
When we reached the school the three of use made our way to the door that was marked "main entrance." I stared up at the glass entryway as I walked, which is probably why I nearly ran into another girl who was staring down. A quick "excuse me" escaped her lips, muffled beneath a cascade of dirty blonde hair and a downcast expression. Even in her hurry I got a pretty good glance at her. She kind of reminded me of that girl that torched her prom in that Stephen King book, wearing a skirt that reached her ankles and, despite the unbearably hot weather, was covered up to her neck in a sweater that made her look like a stereotypical eskimo. I watched her shuffle away before catching up with my family. We followed an arrow down a long hallway that led to a huge room that was nothing but windowed walls and older people hurrying about with files and office mail filling their arms. I opened the door of the office and held it for my mom and Aurora. The ancient receptionist looked up with a look of disgust, ready to tell off the students who were ruining her quiet morning, until she noticed my mother standing in front of her, which changed her entire demeanor. We were directed back to one of the counselors' offices to get our registration finished quickly. The door with the nameplate that read "Ms. Latisha Martin" was shut tight, but it didn't my mom from shoving the door open and interrupting what looked like a very important phone call. The counselor was very kind, considering we barged into her office unannounced, and she took the envelope and removed the paperwork she had to have in order to properly register us. She noted all the art courses I had taken at my old school. "Don't worry. Our art instructor has actually had works sold in a gallery and was top of her class. You'll be in good hands."
This relieved me a little. At our old school the art students were basically left to their own devices. The art teacher was actually the football coach who needed a teaching job to fill in the hours that took him from the football field, so he basically spent the day standing around, talking strategy with the football players in his "easy A" class and suckering students into making all the huge paper signs his football players crashed through at the beginning of each game. There were a small group of us who actually banded together and figured things out on our own, but you could never really say we had a very good art program. I was looking forward to working with someone who didn't think art began and ended with long sheets of easily ripped paper and poster paint.
"That's good to hear." I smiled. I think it was the first time I had smiled all day. At least I now had something to look forward to. She went over the classes available to Aurora for her first year and she finally settled on all her core classes and a couple of extras that would put a little excitement in an otherwise boring schedule. The counselor tried to speak to my mom about the school, all the awards they had won and how wonderful the sports teams did year after year, but my mom was in no way interested in staying once we were registered. "Look, can we be done here? No offense, but I'm already late for work." I started to call her out on her bold-faced lie, but the glare she gave me before I could open my mouth told me it just wouldn't be worth it. She had to go to work, true, but only to fill out some paperwork and watch a couple of training videos, and she wasn't due in until noon.
Ms. Martin was taken aback by her rudeness. "Of course. If you two will follow me, I'll give you the grand tour of the facility and drop you off at your first classes." Before Ms. Martin could even finish the words "Have a nice day Ms. Parker" Mom's high heels had already begun to click on the tile floor outside the main office. Exasperated momentarily, she composed herself and smiled at us. "Shall we go girls?"
Ms. Martin took us down several very long corridors that seemed to wind endlessly. I worried both of us would continually get lost, but she assured us there were maps in our welcome packet, and the set-up wasn't really as difficult as it looked once you got the hang of it. The second floor of the school housed the freshmen and sophomore halls, so we dropped Aurora off first. I said, "Bye Aurora" to my little sister, but she flounced into the classroom with Ms. Martin without looking back. After a couple of minutes the counselor and I made our way to the third floor, where the junior and senior halls were located. The main floor was the location for the gym, the cafeteria and the class I cou. I had already missed half of my first class, so I knew walking in unnoticed was not going to happen. We stopped at the last class down the furthermost hallway. "And this is your Algebra II class." I held my breath as she opened the door.
It looked like your standard classroom. There were about twenty-two other people, minus the teacher, and they all looked bored out of their skulls. There were, of course, the rare exceptions, like the studious boy taking notes like a possessed madman and one girl who stared intently at the blackboard full of numbers as if just staring at them would force them to permeate her brain so she would understand what the teacher was telling her. The rest of the kids were as I expected to find them. Some were doodling in their notebooks, others were staring off into space through one of the second-story windows. I scanned the room for an available desk. The only available desk was right up front. I could hear myself groan in my mind. Last come, last served, I supposed.
"Mrs. Craft, we have a new student." The guidance counselor gently urged me forward. The entire classroom of heads shot in my direction like a herd of gazelle looking for the crouching cheetah in the tall grass. I noted several snickers and a few glares as I was eyeballed up and down; I tried not to notice as I quietly took a seat at the front desk Mrs. Craft motioned me to use. Two girls in particular, both dressed in outfits that probably cost a small fortune, rolled their eyes, one remarking, "Oh great. Another one of them." If the teacher overheard she didn't pay it any mind.
"Thank you, Ms. Martin." Mrs. Craft smiled with her most obvious fake smile. "We are always happy to have new minds eager to learn." A few more snickers permeated the air at that comment, and one firm look from Mrs. Craft quieted them down. The counselor gave me a half wave and said, "If you have any questions feel free to stop by my office Medora." I heard one of the snotty girls say under her breath "Medora? What the hell kind of name is 'Medora?'" Mrs. Craft again chose to ignore her.
"So, Miss....." she paused as she looked through the paperwork she had been given, "Miss....ah, Parker. Why don't you tell us a little about yourself?"
Aww shit. Why did teachers do this to us? We're new, we're already nervous, why should we play twenty questions with a bunch of strangers? She motioned for me to stand and face the classroom. I noted the faces hadn't changed much from the first time I stepped in the class. I had made my way into hostile territory, and now I got to play "Be my Friend" with a bunch of people who were only interested in my life story because it delayed the rise and slope lesson for a grand total of two minutes.
I took a deep breath and began. "My name is Medora Parker, I'm seventeen and I just moved from Lake Phalor in the upper part of the state." I looked over at Mrs. Craft, hoped for a sign that I could sit down, but she gave me a "go on" gesture. "Ummm, I like different kinds of music and I really like art." I heard one of the snots say "and eating..." followed by a round of muffled laughter that was quickly shushed by the teacher. I shot the girl a dirty look, and her cohort responded, "Oh, the new girl's feelings are hurt! Better watch it Peyton!" The class erupted in laughter, and I'm pretty sure my face involuntarily turned three shades of red. To make matters worse, Mrs. Craft asked both Peyton and her friend Jennifer to step outside of her classroom so she could have a "private" word with them. Well, that was a great start to the day, I thought to myself as I shoved my book bag under the desk and took my seat.
When Mrs. Craft left to have his word with the "troublemakers" I was instantly besieged. My desk was circled by some very curious people. I felt like an animal in captivity, or one of the freaks in the freak show. Luckily it didn't turn out as bad as all that.
"You gotta ignore Peyton. She's such a bitch." one girl in a very prim, proper outfit smiled while tossing her long red curls behind her back.
"Hey, are you goth or emo?" the studious boy with large owl-eyed glasses asked me, as if an answer in the affirmative might give him the perfect specimen to study for his science fair project.
"No, I'm neith..."
"Hey, what's 'M83' anyway?" another girl with shoulder-length brown hair and huge doe eyes asked me, curiosity piqued. I couldn't answer her question before somebody else piped in with "Where's Lake Phalor? Is that like a rich, lakeside community or something? Are you rich? Do you dress stupid so nobody will know?"
I answered with the shortest answers I could, because just as soon as one question was answered another would pop up. Geesh, it seemed like these people hadn't seen new blood in ages! Before I could answer the next line of questioning, Mrs. Craft and the guilty students walked back in. More like sulked back in; neither of them looked my way as they took their seats. I didn't bother trying to make eye contact with them, but I knew two sets of eyes were boring death glowers into the back of my head. The other students rushed back to their desks and Mrs. Craft warned them about further disruptions in her classroom. And that seemed to be my first crisis averted. Hopefully it would be smooth sailing after this.
Unfortunately my little water cruise of a first day was not going to be smooth at all. By the time I made it down to the electives hall at the end of the day word had thoroughly spread about the new girl who had arrived, and much like in Algebra II class the whispers, the questions and the stares followed me down the hall, down the stairs and into the next corridor. There was also the occasional laugh or rude comment which I ignored completely. No need to get in trouble the first day of school. Art class made me feel a little better, because most of the people there looked just like me. All of the people except...
There she sat, the other girl Jennifer, chatting away with a girl dressed just like her as they waited for the bell to ring. She looked up at me and motioned my way. The other girl was her physical opposite; a stunning African American girl with long flowing black hair and piercing grey eyes in comparison to Jennifer's dyed blonde hair and icy blue eyes. I could tell by their style of dress and the designer knapsacks tossed carelessly on the floor under their chairs they were used to a lifestyle I had never been accustomed to. They looked at each other and giggled gleefully, an uneasy sound that made me miss the death glowers. I found an empty seat and waited for the teacher to arrive. I tried to ignore the girls across the room, but I was facing them from where I sat and I could almost hear the plotting all of the vicious things they would do to me in this class. My stomach churned and I tried to remind myself I was in Art class, a REAL Art class for the first time ever. But nothing made my mood brighten.
"Oh, hi there, Goth Girl!" I heard Britney Spears call out from across the room. The other students looked around, confused at first, and when their eyes landed on me, some lost it while some just quickly lost interest and turned their backs and returned to the artwork they were intently working on. Unfortunately their clothes looked a lot like mine, so I suppose they were used to the teasing from the Terrible Twosome. But I couldn't figure out why those two were in a class like this. "Hey, she's talking to you, Goth!" Britney's friend jumped to her feet; luckily the teacher walked in at that very moment.
"Please settle down Sasha." Sasha sat down, but she didn't immediately take her eyes off me. I couldn't see them, but I knew they were still staring. "Well, it seems we have a new girl. I won't embarrass you by having you stand up. Miss...Parker?" I nodded, acknowledging my own name. "Welcome Miss Parker. You're in luck. Two days in and we've just started. As we go along I'll evaluate what you know and see if you need to be caught up or if you're ahead of the curve. Sound fair?"
I nodded again. I had no idea where I stood. I spent my sophomore year being taught by a football coach who couldn't even tell me who Edvard Munch was. We did our best without a competent instructor, but was it enough to keep up in this class? "We'll talk later. First, let's get started." Miss Finch passed out large pieces of drawing paper and directed our attention to a table in the middle of the class. It was covered with different household items and decorations: a glass milk bottle, a potted plant, a basketball, some sort of knick knack shaped like a pyramid and a basket filled with items one might use for knitting. Our assignment was to choose several items off the table and shade them the way we saw them. We didn't have to draw them in the order we saw them, what counted was the shading on each item. I managed to draw the basket full of knitting utensils and the glass bottle and had just started sketching out the pyramid-shaped sculpture when the class bell rang for lunch. I started to get up and pack my stuff when Miss Finch stopped me. "Let me see what you've got." She studied my artwork with the practiced eye of a learned professional. "Wow, you are good. You must have had one heck of an art teacher last year."
"Not really." I said truthfully. "No offense, but he didn't teach us a thing. We had to sort of teach ourselves."
"Well then." She replied. "That makes this even more impressive." As I was being praised for my ability I saw the Terrible Two make their way past us, whispering and glaring the entire time. Ignoring them I returned my attention to Miss Finch.
"Do you think it's okay?" I asked, feeling a little boost of confidence at finally doing something right today.
Miss Finch smiled. "Okay? I think it's striking. You've captured the depths of shadow perfectly. And the reflection on the glass bottle? It's very realistic. Are you sure you didn't have prior instruction?"
"Quite sure." I laughed, thinking of Coach Rutherford trying to draw a proper circle, much less teach us shadows and light. "My friends and I had to read through the art books on the shelves and just draw what we saw. There were five or six of us who really wanted to learn, and we taught ourselves. By the end of the year we even had a football player making some pretty mean oval-shaped horses." I laughed, a little nervous laugh. I didn't want to sound like I was bragging too much, but I wanted her to know how serious I was about learning to be a good artist.
"I think you're going to do just fine here." Miss Finch handed my artwork back to me. I packed it up and hurried out of the classroom. I was feeling so good about the good news I had received in Art class it did not occur to me to remember to watch my surroundings. Jennifer and Sasha were hiding at the beginning of the next hallway. And when I turned the corner an errant foot found my ankle and jerked my leg out from under me. I fell with loud crash, the books in my backpack coming out of the unzipped opening and flying out on and over my head. I came down hard on my hand, feeling a sharp, unbearable pain that made me think I must have broken my wrist. I heard gasps, followed by uncontrollable laughter from many people. I turned over onto my back, clutching my agonizing wrist, tears involuntarily filling my eyes, when Jennifer stood over me, extending her hand. "Awww, looks like you got hurt. Would you like a hand?"
I couldn't take it anymore. I knew one of them had tripped me. I took my free hand and slapped her hand away from me. "Fuck you!" I shouted. This earned me a lot of gasps and the laughter stopped. Miss Finch turned the corner to find me in the floor and Jennifer looking as if she had been bitten by a rabid dog.
"Miss Finch, Miss Finch, the new girl hit me and she SWORE at me!" Miss Finch gave her a look that let me know she was used to the Terrible Twos and their behavior.
"Shut up Jennifer before I send you to the principal's office!" Miss Finch half shouted.
"Excuse me." Sasha spoke up. "You have no right to be angry at Jen. She was only trying to help. You send her to the principal's office I'll tell my dad exactly what happened. We're innocent, you ask anyone here. And if I talk to Dad this girl will be expelled and you'll be looking for another job!"
"Did anyone here see what happened?" Miss Finch asked, trying to get someone to step forward by they all started rushing down the hall, avoiding her gaze. She started to say something then stopped. "Just get out of the way so I can get this girl to the infirmary." Sasha and Jennifer politely stepped aside while Miss Finch helped me up. I heard a low "Awwww" followed by two hideous peals of laughter as they walked away.
