Welcome to Deadwood

Chapter Four

   Walking down the corridor, I counted the numbers on the classroom doors, searching for the room listed on my schedule. There were only two science labs, but they were integrated with the other classes, so it took at least five minutes into the second lesson for me to track down where I was supposed to be going. I knocked on the door before entering and the chemistry teacher frowned at me over his glasses, glancing at the clock hanging just above my head. 

   “I’m sorry,” I apologized, feeling my cheeks begin to blush as ten pairs of eyes watched me with incredulity. I was waiting for the teacher to say something, to acknowledge me, but he just continued to stare. “I got lost, I couldn’t find the room and-” 

   “-Just take a seat, Mr Miller,” he said impatiently. “I’m afraid most of the seats have already gone.” 

   “Okay, that’s fine,” I nodded compliantly, holding my bag to my shoulder and starting towards the back of the room, looking up to locate any empty seats. 

   It was one of the first lessons I would have without either Isaac or Leah being there and it felt strange. I glanced from side to side, locking eyes with each student as I passed, as they ran their eyes up and down my figure, trying to gauge what kind of person I was. Reaching the final row, I saw my seat, the last one left empty, and Amaya was filling the stool besides it. I did my best not to stare, but I fear I was not my most discreet, because it was hard not looking at her, when she was barely a foot away from me. 

   My face grew warmer and I scratched at my neck nervously, putting my bag down on the table and shuffling my chair closer to the table. There was already science apparatus set up on the old wooden surface, all metal and glass, not like the cheap, plastic alternatives used at my previous high school. As the teacher spoke, explaining the task we would have to complete this lesson, I watched her hands as she touched the bottles of chemicals lined up in front of her. The white of her knuckles could be seen beneath the black lace as she held the glass and pressed her thumbs to the warning labels, orange against the clear solution. 

   The silhouette of her face seemed different in this light, less severe. She had seemed so aloof when watched from afar, but now she was this tangible being, sitting only a few inches away. I could see her lips parting, the rise and fall of her chest, and she was alive. Now she was not just a dream, someone I could fantasize about; I would have to think of words to say, real sentences said out loud. 

   “Shall we start?” Amaya turned to me, flicking to the right page in her textbook and opening the box containing the calcium carbonate chips. 

   “Umm, yeah, sure,” I cleared my throat and tried to look like I had been listening to the teacher before, when he had explained the experiment we would be doing. “So,” I sighed, as she measured the right amount of marble into a weighing boat on the digital scales, “my name’s Ethan.” 

   “I know,” she said calmly, without looking up. I waited for a moment, expecting Amaya to tell me her name in return, but she just continued to put the chemical into the test tube with a metal spatula, replacing it in a rack. 

   “Well, what’s yours?” I asked hopefully. 

   “Amaya,” she replied, standing up straight and leaning against the work surface, staring at me indifferently. 

   “That’s a pretty name,” I commented, trying to sound confident, although the words got stuck in my throat. She continued to stare at me, her coal black eyes swallowing me whole. “What?” I frowned. 

   “Well, are you going to do anything or just stand there gawping at me?” 

   “I was not gawping,” I responded defensively.