P h o t o #4 - An Explosion Of Creativity. Literally.
"Thank god it's lunch! Finally!" I stretched my arms out in relief, feeling like it was the first time I had been able to breathe easy all day. As I walked over to my favorite bench in the back of the school, one painted a ghostly white that contrasted with the scenery surrounding it, I reached into my bag for the boxed lunch my grandmother had made for me. Even though she didn't need to make my lunches, and I had told her I could do at least something this simple, she insisted on doing it for me, saying she hasn't done such a "small gesture of affection" for decades. I, of course, couldn't tell her no, what with knowing it would just break her fragile heart.
I opened up the old tupperware container and, with widened eyes, realized it was leftovers from last night. I could barely wait to sit down before grabbing the spoon packed with it and shoveling a bite into my famished mouth.
I let out a blissful swoon as the spoonful of my grandmother's infamous chicken casserole fell into my mouth. She'd always been the best cook I had known. Now that I was on the topic, I couldn't help but think about how lucky I was to inherit her abilities in the kitchen, instead of my mother who was clueless in such a simple department.
With the thought of my mother came the striking of a taut cord within my chest. I took the plastic spoon out of my mouth and sighed. I hadn't spoken to my mother for a long, long time. Even though I didn't deserve to waste my time wondering how a woman who didn't even want a child like me was fairing in life, I still began lifting another spoonful of food towards my mouth, not wanting to waste a morsal.
I let the passing thought go and moved to other matters, like what had happened this morning and how I was going to deal with all of it.
I was thankful that my trigonometry teacher, scary but some what kind Mr. Quin, told everyone that if they disturbed my work or that if any student's in his class did so they all got suspensions; he had to have seen the girls crowding me like hawks around prey. I was surprised even the teachers knew about this, but when I finally considered it, how could they not? The school raved about this trivial tradition each year. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I was chosen for it. Years of observation on the events surrounding the tradition told me that usually, when a girl was picked, she would be with the boys at their lunch table, bragging away to everyone crowding around, and they would all listen obediently. That's why I found it more peaceful to sit outside and enjoy the sweet silence, a rarity when on school grounds, than to gossip about something fickle around a messy lunch room.
Even though in class I was deemed safe with the help of teachers,-who knew that being a teachers pet would, in fact, have a perk-that had yet to stop people from shoving notes my way or in my locker or writing nasty things on my papers as they passed them back to me. I tried not to let it get to me, even though with my complex brain, that was quite the struggle of it's own. I knew they were just picking on me because they knew they could, because I hadn't "taken charge of my fame" yet, which I was, in fact, not planning on doing anytime soon. I bet if the other girls picked hadn't taken charge like they did the moment they found themselves on their sugar coated pedestal they would have gotten the same treatment as I did.
Shaking the depressing notions away, I invited another heaping mouthful of casserole into my mouth, not wanting to ruin my appetite by thinking about all that's happened to me over a course of just two short days.
'This is the most eventful two days of my life.' I thought as I put a hand to my cheek and moaned at the tastiness of my lunch. I tried not to think about how sad that sounded coming from a high school senior.
An only slightly entertained snort came from in front of me. "So, you can make that kind of face as well?" I heard a voice call out from the back entrance of my special place, sending a startled shiver down my spine.
"How did you-?" I began to say as Elliot's face came into view, his classic smirk making my blood boil.
"Find this place? Simple. It wasn't hard taking notice of a suspicious looking girl sneaking out the back doors of the school." Jonas piped up from behind him and walked over to me, bending down so we were face to face. "Duuuuh." He dragged out, to far for my liking, thank you very much. He rarely had spoken to me, and yet when he had all he made were sly remarks.
"Wow! It's so pretty back here! Why doesn't everyone hang out back here?" Cooper asked with his arms spread out, looking at every detail of what I described as my special place.
A place I didn't feel too fondly about the idea of sharing.
"Because, no one appreciates nature anymore." I mumbled to myself, angry at how I could be so stupid and let them follow me without even noticing.
They all swiftly made their way over and joined me in sitting on the other unoccupied benches that all together formed a square surrounding a large tree planted in a middle, sporting a rusted plaque that could barely be made out.
"What are you doing?" I asked, irritated that they were still in my presence. I already had to deal with them this morning in trig, plus I still had two more classes I knew I would have to suffer through with them. Couldn't they just leave me alone?
"But, we're friends, aren't we? And friends eat lunch together!" Cooper chimed from his bench to my right.
Suddenly, something warm sprouted in me. Barely acknowledging Cooper's jolly words, the four boys carried on their conversations normally, yet something was definitely off. Why did I feel so...okay with this? Maybe it was just that I had forgotten how it felt to have people my age willingly wanting to be around me for given amount of time. It had been years since I had this much contact with people my age. (Except for that one strange kid who smelled like various animals at the animal shelter down the street who gave me discounted cat food for Misty).
Unknowingly, a very small smile began to creep up onto my lips, sending me into shock as I tried wiping it off my face before anyone took notice. The slight prick of joy I felt was enough to make me remember that I shouldn't let myself lose grip of the bars I had only known to hold onto for a good part of my life. After what had happened, I knew I shouldn't have been enjoying myself, even in the slightest. But what I felt was so pleasant, even though I knew I was going against myself. I almost didn't want to lose it.
How could I completely turn against everything I had built up for myself for the past four years in just a mere two days?
Wrapping up my debate, I hadn't realized that all four boys were now staring at me like I was an animal at the zoo.
"Wh-What?" I stammered, feeling embarrassed by the sudden shift of attention on me. The smile I seemed to fail at terminating quickly slipped off of my face.
"You can smile, too?" Jonas whispered in awe. I gave them a questioned look.
"Well, duh, I am a human being. Of course I'm capable of making natural expressions." I said matter-of-factly.
"And now she's back." Elliot sighed and leaned back on the bench, dropping his head so he faced the clear skies above us.
I just sat there, my clueless self evident.
The bell sounding in the school echoing outside signaled that my lunch period had been spent.
***
"Alright class, tie on your aprons!" Our home economics teacher, Ms. Whitestock, called out as she began to tie her apron around her chubby frame.
I knotted mine in the back quickly, already used to this type of set, and even tied my hair into a ponytail. I didn't want to repeat what had happened the year before. I had singed the tips of my hair off in an oven burner incident and had to wear it at a shorter length for a few months.
I shivered at the thought. I did not like the sound of that one bit of it.
I watched as most of my puzzled classmates at their respectable counter tops tried tying on their apron but had no idea how to, asking each other to do it for them. I tried to surpass a snort, knowing that I was already hated enough around here and if they saw me watching them struggle they would just despise me even more than they did since the first day of school.
At a time like this, if any girl who was fortunate enough to not be me was chosen for the tradition, she would be ruling he school with an iron fist right about now. Being the envy of all girls in school and being within eyesight of every boy, she would have an advantage, but I could never do that. Maybe that's why I'm being hated, because the girls have no one to follow. Or maybe they're just jealous? Even though that conclusion seemed the most probable, the thing I didn't get was why they would waste strong emotions like jealously over a stupid position like the one I so graciously have.
Then, another thought popped into my head. 'What if I refused?' I shook my head. That would start an all out war within Riverdale High, and I wasn't too confident in my fighting skills, especially if I was up against the entire student body.
"Okay! Now that everyone's ready, you may pick your cooking groups!" Ms. Whitestock's booming voice slapped me out of my trance. "No more than three to a group!"
'Oh, great,' I thought, sighing. 'Now I'll be stuck with all of the people who never have a group, like always. Plus I always end up doing most of the work-' My pessimistic internal voice was cut short by someone slamming into my side.
I yelped as I turned to the very hyper boy with big brown eyes squeezing my torso.
Man, this kid really loved to hug people. I always seemed to forget that he was a high school senior.
"Be in my group! Come on, Emma!" Cooper chanted as he pulled me over to one of the tables with a built in stove and sink.
I looked over at Parker and Jonas, who seemed content with letting me take one of their places. They moved towards the other side of the room, where it looked to be one of their "admirers" had wanted them to be in her group. They were happy to oblige.
I raised my white flag. This kid was just too much for me to handle. But, unfortunately I guessed there was an upside to this predicament: I didn't have to work with the weird kids who never had anyone to pair up with (because they were known to never do any real work in the class).
Now with that realization, I guessed that classified me as a weird kid, too.
"What? Why her?" I heard Elliot call out as we made our way towards the table he was sitting at.
I just glanced around awkwardly. I knew from the close observation of my peers that friends tended to playfully tease each other from time to time, but like this? I didn't think so.
"I'm sorry, I just, um, was asked by Cooper to join this group." I answered truthfully, not wanting to be a nuisance to anyone.
He just looked at me, a hint of confusion wiping quickly across his face. But he quickly shook it off. "Never mind. Just get over here." He said as he motioned his hand towards the table.
There it was again, that feeling. As I trotted over to the stool in the middle of Elliot and Cooper, I noticed how much I felt contentment with that little warm feeling in my chest.
"Now that everyone is in a group, I'm going to let you choose a dish to make, and I want you all to apply the basic skills that you already know in the kitchen. Then Mr. Ellan and I" - she pointed the her lanky assistant that gingerly stepped up a bit. He worked here for the college credit - "will taste these dishes and see who's appeals to our tastebuds the most. A friendly competition is, as it sounds, supposed to be friendly. I won't tolerate any fights between any of you." She gave our class a once over, the went on, "So, whoever wins first place gets an A+!"
'So much for keeping the workplace humble.' I thought as everyone began to rush around for ideas and ingredients at the sound of her giving us an easy grade. A competition was a competition, and something I could deginitely do. I rolled up my sleeves.
"What should we make?" Cooper said behind me. I turned to face him and thought for a moment.
"How about Belgian Waffles?" I suggested as my eyes met with the waffle maker that sat upon our table.
"Oh, good idea! Let's do that!" Cooper yelled as he swiped the waffle maker and a bunch of other cooking utensils from where they sat. Elliot watched his quick movements and could only offer a grunt.
I turned to the grumpy boy. "Can you come with me and help get the ingredients?" I asked nicely, trying to at least get on one person's good side in the school.
"No way." He huffed and turned his head away from me, but I didn't have time to lament over his sour attitude towards me for the past 24 hours.
I sighed, knowing it was useless. So I just walked over to the table where I grabbed some eggs, flour, sugar, baking powder, milk, vanilla, and butter. I also grabbed some left over strawberries and blueberries from the bowl of fruit that had already been raided by our other classmates.
Everything in my arms all together were to heavy for my minute strengtg. As I began to make my way to our table, I felt my footing slip as I somehow found a way to trip over my own self and almost ended up spilling the flour all over the floor. A strong arm gripped firmly on my shoulder, steadying me.
"Christ. You really need to be watch where you're going. You're a total klutz." I heard Elliot's voice from behind me, words falling heavily on the back of my neck.
"I-I'm sorry..." I squeaked, unsure as Elliot grabbed a few things from my arms, making it possible for me to walk once again. "Oh, and thank you!" I lightly added.
He just shook his head and kept walking, as did I. As much as I wanted to get away from these boys, I couldn't just not be polite if help was offered.
I truly had mixed feelings about all of this.
Once we all made our way to the table, I noticed Cooper staring off at the waffle maker, looking at it with utter astonishment.
"Here, just push that red button so it can pre-heat." I instructed over his shoulder. He jumped up, startled out of his trance by my voice, and quickly did as told.
I eyed both of the boys as they just stood there uneasily, ignorance on how to cook evident. Yet all this time I thought I was the heavily awkward one here. "Um, so, should we start mixing?" I asked, deciding to briskly take action so we could be the first to finish. This was a competition, after all.
"Obviously." Elliot said in his usual 'I don't care' tone.
I quickly nodded. My pale hands grabbed all the ingredients, poured their respected amounts into a large bowl, and began to mix them with a whisk with quick flicks of my wrist, all while knowing that I could never fight my push-over ways.
'It's kinda ironic,' I began to drift in thought, 'I mean, I'm always thinking of things to say and do that'll make me look less of a weakling, but everything that comes out of my mouth turns out to be the complete opposite.'
I closed my eyes as I mixed, feeling my arm getting tired.
"Hey," Cooper chirped behind me, "Need help?"
I could only gawk up at him - the boy had about six inches against my height, give or take one - "Uh, sure." I spoke pathetically.
'That's a first...' I motioned as I handed him the metallic whisked so he could stir efficiently.
As he began mimicking the motions I had done before, I could only state in awe at how easily he could stir the sticky batter. Once again I had forgotten that this was a boy next to me, a boy older than me at that.
I couldn't help but be just a bit thankful as I watched his actions, at this rate I was sure we could get an easy A.
As this thought happily skipped across my mind, I had taken my eyes off of the boy for only a second. Before I knew it, Cooper was starting to pour the batter into the waffle iron, a little too much batter, I may add. My eyes skimmed over the the small screen where it showed the temperature of the hot irons.
Eyes probably the same as saucers, I got up from my stool a bit too quickly, making it hit the ground with a loud thud and causing Elliot to take caution in my actions. "Wait don't-" I began as he pressed down the lid of the hot plate with every ounce of strength in his body.
Too late.
Next thing I knew, batter coated the walls and caked onto our bodies, as well as a few of our fellow classmates. Silence erupted into the classroom as head turned and people paled in realization at what just commenced.
After smearing the lumpy light brown goop off the lenses of my glasses, I stared in horror at the mess that surrounded our table and the area around it. The familiar clicking of heels from behind me snapped me out of my panic induced dozing.
"Elliot, Cooper, Emma!" Ms. Whitestock screeched, emphasizing my name, probably surprised I even caused such a ruckus. "To the office immediately!"
The events leading up to our punishment happened at lightning speed, we could only stare at her as we process them, still in silence, me probably being the most horrified out of all of us. It was the first punishment I had ever received since I had entered this school. Hell, it was the first time I had even brought such negative attention from a teacher to myself.
"Ooooh, this batter is actually pretty good!" I heard Cooper call out as he stuck his finger in a patch of batter that stuck to his shirt.
"NOW!" Our home-ec teacher yelled at the top of her lungs as the three of us bolted out of the sweet smelling classroom and down the halls to our demise.
Well at least my demise. My grandmother was going to kill me!