Pieces

Chapter 3 - Fro Yo Makes Me Feel Normal

It's been a LONG day.  Also, why is the school nurse my Spanish teacher?  Isn't that a conflict of interest or something?  And I've also discovered why they call them LOCKers, because you can't get them open.  They could store uranium in those things and even the Russians couldn't get to it.  Consequently, I am carrying every textbook with my name written on the inside cover in my backpack and my aching arms.  Peter and Kathy would die if they knew I was exceeding recommended lifting limits, but so far no appendages have fallen off, so I'm counting this as a new benchmark.

One more class left.  DRAMA.  It says it right on the door and I wonder if it's meant to describe the class or the feel of the room.  My hands are full, so I'll have to wait for someone to let me in, and it's hard to look casual while carrying 25 pounds of Common Core knowledge.  Aaaaaand of course now my meds alarms are going off.  At least my phone and pill box are are on buzz and muffled by the books.  I've just managed to whack my watch against the wall and snooze it when I see somebody whip through the classroom door, so I hurry in after them.

The walls are black, the ceiling is black, the windows are curtained in black.  There's a worn black, leather couch being taken over by several students and a set of black risers where some other theatricals have gathered.  I don't know where I go.  All of the other classrooms had a single, clever empty desk for me to fill.  But if I stand here for long enough, maybe they'll just paint me black too and use me as a piece of scenery.

"Hey, I'm Selena.  We have biology together."

I turn and see electric blue hair twirled into two perky space buns on either side of a pair of eyes surrounded by a great quantity of rainbow colored eye shadow.  I'm wondering how long it took to create that masterpiece.

"Do you go by Anna, or Ann, or A, or a nickname that's embarrassing but has an interesting story behind it ?"

And also trying to calculate the amount of industrial strength make up remover necessary to erase it.

"Can I help you with those books?"

I'm doing it again.  Forgetting I'm no longer just watching t.v. I have actual lines in real life.

"Sure.  Thanks."

Selena takes the majority of the books out of my arms and sets them on one of the risers and I follow her, because now that she has done me this great kindness, I guess I'm imprinted on her like a baby duck on its mama.

"So are you an actress or a techie?" Selena asks me with a raised (and pierced) eyebrow.

"I'm definitely NOT an actress."

Selena drops the eyebrow and smiles. "Thank goodness!  We already have enough of them kissing up to Colin for the good parts."

"Who's Colin?"

"Our teacher." A look of understanding passes over Selena's face. "Um. Right.  I bet that's confusing.  He's Mr. Newirth on your schedule.  But in class he likes us to call him by his first name.  Says familiarity is more conducive to artistic expression. Come on, I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew."

Selena takes my arm and pulls me over to a group on the other side of the room.  Trust me, Selena is one of a kind, but I can tell these kids are her tribe.  They've got a creative, bohemian thing going amongst them that says, "We are so cool that we don't care AND we don't have to be a snob about it." And I suddenly feel like there's a chance I could belong to this tribe too.

"Hey guys, this is Anna.  She's the newbie and she's one of us." Selena turns to me. "Do you know anything about props?  Our last props person graduated last year and nobody has figured out where she stored the swords, which is only a problem because Colin has hinted that it's time we blessed Ingolstadt with one of the works of the Great Bard."