Anthea

Freezing Hot

Today, I tore off my sheets to something less fascinating. School. Groaning, I forced my self off the bed, and slid slowly off its side until my feet reached the floor. I stood up and stretched my arms out, yawning. I gazed upon my room and let out an exasperated sigh. School was something that kept me from the stars, and I refused to look at it in a positive manner.

"Anthea!" My father yelled from downstairs. That meant two things. Get up and get ready, and come down for breakfast. "Yep!" I yelled back. I walked in a zombie like manner to the bathroom and washed my face in the sink. I gazed upon my reflection in the mirror. I see that face every day, but it's as if every time I look at it I search for something new. My eyes stared back at me. They were an icy shade of blue. Not warm looking. I had always wished they looked more welcoming, but instead they were regal and cold.

I grasped the tube of toothpaste and brush from the side of the sink. Spreading the paste into the brush nicely, I could help but let my mind wander back to one of my favorite childhood memories.

Father had come home from the lab, and I was whining of boredom. He had felt bad for being gone so long, so he said that we'd do a craft. I took him up on the offer. He traveled up the stairs, and I waited patiently for him to return. When he reappeared, he had toothpaste tubes and cotton swabs in one hand and black construction paper in the other. He had a quirky grin displayed on his face. I was confused as to what his intentions were, but I waited for him to explain. He sat beside me and laid the materials on the table. He showed me what to do, as he applied swabs of toothpaste generously onto the paper. I followed his lead.

By the time we were done, we both had beautiful examples of our own little toothpaste galaxies. He hung them up on the fridge with NASA magnets, and they remain exactly in that spot today.

Having finished brushing, I changed quickly into a pair of old jean shorts and faded t-shirt. I pulled my curly red hair up into a quick pony tail. A strand left unattended to curled and framed the left side of my face. My face is narrow, and slender. I guess one could call it gentle. A cluster of freckles spread over my nose. My father says he never has to go far to see the galaxy because he sees it whenever he looks at me.

I bounded down the steps, and ran to my dad, who waits in the kitchen with open arms.
"There's my girl!" He exclaims, embracing me warmly.

I eye a stack of homemade pancakes on the table beyond him, hot and gooey with syrup.
I withdraw myself in hope to shove them all right down while they're still that way.

My dad laughs, saying "Oh, I see how it is!"

"Oh shush" I say, "That's how it always is!"

Our morning routine went on as usual, and I was out of the house and on my bike before I knew it. The day went slowly. It was torturously hot, and a building full of hundreds of sweaty teenage bodies Is not a pleasant place to be.

When the bell rang, I was the first one out of the classroom. I raced to my locker, and headed straight for my bike. It was old and rusty, but I had been promised a new one this summer.

I began the thirty minute ride to my fathers lab. I went there after school each day, and sat in the observatory doing homework and such. And every once in a while I'd sneak a peek at his work.

I zoomed past fields of golden wheat, lit fiercely by the sun. They looked as if in an eternal blaze. And then I was slowing down. Slower and slower. And then I stopped. Completely.

My front tire had a large gash in it, and was no longer functioning. I cursed. I was about fifteen minutes away from the lab on bike, but on my feet the time at least doubled. I kicked at the ground, and sweat dripped down my neck.

I shivered and started walking. The pavement was hot and I could see the heat riding up from it in the distance. I shivered again. My teeth began clattering together. The sun blazed down on my face, and no shade or wind were there to aid me. And then I shivered again.

I stopped abruptly. Why am I shivering. Its over ninety degrees Fahrenheit out. Why am I shivering. I shivered again. I felt the need to hug myself for warmth. But I was hot as the pavement beneath me. Or was I? My confusion only got worse when everything blacked out. A conscious black out. And then, I "woke up".