Prophecy

The Inevitable Question

Wyatt

School technically started three weeks ago. But it turns out that using the excuse I'm still unpacking and school isn't the best thing for a girl who needs to haul around an oxygen tank really works. The doctors can't really explain why I need an oxygen tank, because my lungs should work just fine. But they're still sucky, and nothing has been able to fix them. So now I'm stuck with this stupid ass tank for the rest of my life.

No more excuses, it's time to face the hellhole that is school. I force myself to get up and get ready for a new school with new people, new classes, new everything. My hair, a mess of curly brown hair, is extra crazy. I don't even bother with it, and just twist it into a huge bun on the top of my head and call it good.

In the mirror I catch a glimpse of my birthmark. It's something I always get asked about, people always seem to think it's a tattoo. The three spirals in the form of a triangle are perfectly centered on the back of my neck.

My family used to live in California, but dad got a job here, in New York, so we packed up and moved. Almost everything about this place is different. First off, there are little to no beaches here, not that I did much swimming anyway. Second, the air here is thicker, not in an elevation sort of way but a pollution sort of way. Now this is my new home, I'm not sure how long it will take to be able to call it that.

I dress in simple blue jeans, tee-shirt, and combat boots. When I leave my room and turn into the kitchen mom immediately spins to face me.

"You ready?" She asks.

"Depends if your kidding about me going."

She smiles and gestures to the door, "Come on. I'll ride with you on the subway."

"I can go by myself, ya know."

She looks at me the same way she always looks at me when I say I can do something on my own. A look that says, no, sweetie. You really can't. I hate that look.

The subway isn't as bad as you think if you get a guaranteed seat. One of the perks of carrying around an oxygen tank. When it's my stop I get up and mom stands up next to me. I look at her.

"I can go from here." She opens her mouth as if to protest but I cut her off. "Mom. I'm pretty sure I can walk myself to school, I'm not a first grader." I can see the hesitation in her eyes. That's the only thing that's different about us. Our eyes. Anything else and I could be her twin if she was twenty years younger, while hers are a dark green and blue, mine are grey. Like a rain cloud.

Mom nods, slowly, and sits back down. I get off the train, walk a little and here's my new school. The school spirit is almost overwhelming. Blue and white paint cover the brick and wolf paw prints lead to the main doors.

A statue of a timber wolf is carved out and placed on the grass in the front. I take one step after another, already I'm tired and out of breath, but I push on, following the prints through the doors. People stare at me of course.

I drag my oxygen tank behind me and head to my locker. The inside of the school even more school spirited than the outside. After shoving my textbooks in my locker, I head to my first class. I plop down into my assigned seat, tucking my tank under my desk. The five minute bell actually rings and students slowly start to file in. A boy with brown hair takes a seat in front of me.

I can't help but stare at his neck. He has a birthmark similar to mine, except it looks like waves. Self consciously I rub the back of my neck. He turns around and sees me staring. I look away startled, his eyes so shockingly blue.

"Whats with the oxygen tank?" There's the inevitable question.

"I need it to breathe." I simply reply. I shyly look back up at him, he's still looking at me but it's not a sympathetic type of way. He has dark hair, I can't tell if it's black or really dark brown, skin also on the dark side but his eyes, cobalt blue with dark ripples, the color of the ocean on a sunny day. Yeah, sure, I'll admit, he's kinda cute. Sexy even.

"I'm James." He says.

"Wyatt."

He nods and turns back around, the bell rings for class to start and the teacher immediately starts talking to the class. I don't talk to James again for the rest of the day.

The day goes by surprisingly fast and before I know it, I'm sitting in my final period. Foods. The teacher, a short plump lady on the verge of growing a mustache, tells me I can sit anywhere there's an open chair. I take a seat in the back. At a table with three boys, they barely pay attention to me, talking and laughing with each other.

There's still an empty seat at the table, the one next to me. I guess I'm stuck with a bunch of boys to cook with. The teacher starts up again, talking about when our first project is due, what homework will be due next time, and so on.

About twenty minutes into class the door opens and a girl walks in with a slip in her hands. "Sorry I'm late Miss.Rockwell." She says handing the paper to the teacher.

"It's fine, just take a seat," then she goes back to her power point on the meal we are going to make today; steamed rice and chicken.

The girl sits down in the only seat left in the class, the one next to me. "Hi," she says. She has one of those voices of a person you just know is nice. "I'm Anna. What's your name?"

"Wyatt."

"Are you new?"

"Yeah."

"Agh, that sucks. I hated being the new kid." She looks around our table. "Lucky I came or you would have been stuck making chicken with a whole bunch of boys." She tries to hide her smile but she's not doing to good.

"Whatever," says one of the boys, a kid with blond hair, " She would have time of her life if you didn't show up to wreck the party." They all start to laugh and trade insults. It's easy to see Anna's popular. Or at least well liked. And hey, she's one of the very few who pretended not to notice the oxygen tank underneath me, so maybe she's not too bad.

A few minutes later our table heads into the mini kitchen to start cooking. I actually have a good time. The boys, David, Ian, and Mike are pretty fun and make jokes none stop. When we finish cooking and taste the food my stomach hurts from laughing and I have to sit down for a few minutes.

"All right," Anna says, "Who's gonna take the first bite?"

We all look around at each other, our meal doesn't look too good. The rice is brown and burnt and the chicken has a coating of salt we can all see, thanks to Ian trying to pull a prank on Mike when he was pouring in the salt.

"Fine. I'll do it," Ian says. He takes some rice and chicken and nervously puts it in his mouth. We all hold our breath for about two seconds before he spits it out gagging. Everyone bursts out laughing and Ian spends the next few minutes wiping off his tongue. Rockwell calls for us to clean up and we all do our part.