Ember

Photo Credit: iStock

Amber Tru Torin, age fourteen, sophomore at Diamond Wood High School, Diamond Wood, Colordo (a.k.a. Colorado). New student, newbie, newcomer, weirdo...all these words the native Diamond Wood High students pinned to my forehead, yet I probably had no idea because I was not paying attention to everyone else. I was concentrating on getting from my mom's car to my first class. I've always been bad at directions, having grown up in a very small town somewhere in the middle of Calforna (a.k.a. California). Kington did not encourage me to exercise these poor navigation skills, nor was it an accurate name for such a small town with only three main roads, no road exceeding the speed limit of thirty-five miles per hour, and only one gas station out by the freeway. 

    

Toting my green apple-colored backpack on one arm, I walked through the halls fairly easily (I was ten minutes early and the rush of students was yet to come), and there I found class 108B--after turning down the wrong hall and almost stumbling straight into the gym, of course. The class was Earth Science, and the teacher was not in the classroom yet. Actually, I was the first one, so I turned on the lights and took a seat in the corner by the Ave's poster, just beside it was a Bronco's flag, orange and blue. A football team, perhaps? I had never been one for sports. A couple more students trickled in one by one, most of them disinterested in the "newbie." That was the problem with coming in as a sophomore. It was like being a freshman all over again, only the rest of the class had already parceled off into their separate cliques. That's okay, I'd just wait for someone to say, "hi." That's how I'd always done it.

    

Three more boys walked in sniggering, dropping a foul word every other sentence. When they saw me in the corner doodling faces on my wide-ruled notebook paper, they called, "Hey Pepperann! How's it going?"

    

I ignored them, cursing myself for forgetting to unpack an extra set of contacts in time for my first day of school. My large, thick glasses sat heavily on the bridge of my nose, sliding down when I lowered my head too far. They called me Pepperann because I reminded them of the cartoon character in the show, Pepperann, that aired Saturday mornings. She had glasses and red hair. My hair was closer to auburn. I was not ready to admit it was red. 

    

I was amused they were familiar with the "kiddy" show, and considered pointing it out to them, but they had already fallen silent. Mr. Brown had entered the room with his black, shiny leather briefcase and leather shoes. In his right hand was a large plastic cup with the Bronco's insignia. He too had glasses, albeit paper thin meant only for reading.

    

More students filed in, chattering and throwing glances toward me. I was not aware, for I was engrossed in the curve of the chin for the new face I was drawing. This one was a boy with heavy eyebrows, turned slightly down, a nice straight nose resting just above a full mouth tweaked to the side in a crooked smile. Filling in his hair was the easy part, but instead of moving straight on to my next doodle, I paused to admire. This face was special, I decided. I needed to remember not to throw away this one.

    

"Nice drawing," someone said to the left of me. A girl with chin length hair leaned toward me, peering down at my paper. "He's cute, isn't he?" She let out a giggle.

    

I offered a hesitant smile.

    

"My name is Laura," she said, extending her arm for a shake.

    

I shook her hand loosely.

    

"Amber."

    

"Nice to meet you."

    

"Where're you from? You're new aren't you?"

    

I lifted my eyebrows and smiled, cocking my head to the side, pretending to be bashful.

   

"California."

    

"California? Do you know any movie stars?"

   

I shook my head, "But Eddie Murphey did used to go to my mom's gym. She walked the treadmill right in front of him for a full half-hour."

    

Laura laughed loud enough to hush the room, so she immediately fell silent, her cheeks slightly pink.

    

I don't think she thought I was serious.

    

Right before Mr. Brown stood in front of the class to introduce himself, Laura whispered one last thing to me, almost as an afterthought. "That face you drew," she said, "looks kind of familiar."

#

My next class was English with Mrs. Grushen, an older lady in her last year before retirement.

    

"Did you hear voices in the hall?" She asked us after we had all settled down into our seats.

    

Everyone was silent.

    

"You know, the voices that try to discourage you and intimidate you on your first day of school." Everyone looked at each other. I was curious if she knew we were sophomores, perfectly capable of walking through the halls on our own (except for myself of course, who was as fresh as a freshman). "Well you needn't worry." Mrs. Grushen pointed to what looked like a stuffed doll dangling from a string connected to the ceiling. "That is a spirit catcher. It catches bad spirits that will try and bring you down."

   

She did not explain what a spirit catcher was, where she got it, maybe she made it herself?--she just sat down to take roll.

    

I hurried out of her class as soon as the bell rang.

    

Geometry was next, and because some students were not at the same level as others, we had juniors, sophomores, freshman, and one senior in our class. Our teacher was young, and she seemed at ease with us, bringing in colloquial words and referencing pop culture without batting an eye. Mrs. Grandio, she called herself, and she remembered all of our names before we left her class for the lunch hour.

    

After lunch I headed to my P.E. class with Mr. Zimmerman, about the size of a teenage bear but with the ferocity found in a marshmallow. 

    

Last class of the day, Drama. It was either Drama or Speech, and since the idea of giving speeches in front of a collection of strangers made my stomach turn, I chose the lesser of two evils: Drama.

    

Mr. Hanmere walked into the room right as the late bell rang; however, he was wearing a witch's outfit, complete with balloons strategically positioned in front of his chest.

    

"Hello," he greeted us in a crackly voice. "Find three people you have never met and introduce yourself to them. Tell them your name, your favorite color, and what superpower you would have if you were a superhero."

    

I was the first to stand up from my desk, already aware that I didn't know anyone, and I waited for the first three people to walk by. The first person was a boy with dark brown hair and rich skin who looked to be a sophomore like me. He smiled shyly and reached to shake my hand.

    

"Hi, my name is Kosh. My favorite color is dark blue, and if I had a superpower, it would be the power of flight."

    

I nodded and said, "My name is Amber, my favorite color is forest green, and if I had a superpower..." I paused, not sure what I wanted to say. I wanted to be creative because I knew everyone else would be saying the same kinds of things. Hmmm...

    

"Next partner!" Mr. Hanmere called before I could give Kosh an answer. He shrugged and moved to the next person.

    

I talked to a blond-haired, Barbie-inspired senior who gave me her name but lost eye contact after I told her mine. She didn't bother to answer the rest of the questions. Instead, she looked around the room, presumably searching for other classmates equal to her. Not many seniors were in Drama 1.

    

"Next partner!"

    

Hoping Mr. Hanmere wouldn't notice, I inconspicuously slid back into my desk and started doodling again. This time she was a girl. I decided to be different, so I gave her glasses, not something I often did for the faces I drew. As soon as I penciled in the last strand of her hair, I was interrupted a second time that day while I was doodling.

    

"She looks like you," a boy said as he took his seat beside me. 

   

I looked up at his face, noting his brown-green eyes and pleasant smile, a musky scent wafted to my nose--cologne? Must be an upperclassman. He looked too old to be a sophomore, but he was acting too nice to be a senior. Junior, perhaps?

    

"Hi, my name is Ro, my favorite color is pomegranate, and if I had a superpower it would be the ability to hold my breath for as long as I want."

    

Drawn to his unique answer, I responded by saying, "My name is Amber, my favorite color is seaweed green, and if I had a superpower it would be..." I paused again as many ideas passed through my mind, but none of them seemed suitable to match his power. I wanted to be creative, witty and original. But everything I could think of seemed simply weird and laughable. Worried I would run out of time, I blurted out the next idea that came to mind. 

"It would be that nothing can burn me."

   

I cringed, my idea seemed so boring. How often would I need to use that power? Maybe when I put my plate in the microwave a little too long, or when I accidentally touched the hot part of my curling iron. But I never curled my hair, so it wouldn't matter.

    

Ro seemed to like it.

    

"So I guess you are fire and I am water," he said with a grin.

    

"What?" I asked, not sure where he was going.

    

"I can stay underwater as long as I want without needing to take a breath, and you can stand in the flames for as long as you want without getting burned by the embers."

   

"If our powers were combined we would be the perfect fireman," I said, again, encouraged by his enthusiasm to entertain his imagination.

   

Ro paused for only a second.

   

"You're right! Someone who could run into a burning building without getting burned, and walk through the smoke without needing to breathe. That's perfect."

    

He patted me on the back as if I were his kid sister. Yes, definitely an upperclassman.

   

Once class ended, I shyly glanced over to see if Ro would catch my eye. He did (after a bit of waiting on my part) and we both waved as we left to go home.

    

As I walked to my mom's car in the long line of cars waiting to get out of the parking lot, I realized something I had not noticed before. Ro looked like him. The doodle Laura liked, the one that had reminded her of someone. 

   

How strange.