A Test of Loyalty

Part 8: Samantha

I couldn't believe it. He'd stolen all my papers. How was I supposed to finish registration if he took off with all my.... Oh no, I realized that I could be losing marks big time if I couldn't get those papers replaced.
I had pretty much figured out what classes I wanted and so headed back to the office to see if I could register without the forms. I was starting to panic, what if they insisted I hand in the originals? Why did that rude, smug, little jerk have to steal my papers? Just being mean, I decided.
I went to the front desk and the same bored receptionist. She didn't even look at me. She just pointed at the same pile as my transfer had gone into.
"Excuse me; I need you to register me right away." She finally looked up.
"Why?"
"Why? I need my schedule; I can't afford to miss classes. I need to keep my marks up if I'm going to get a scholarship to university."
"What makes you think you'll get a scholarship?" She actually snorted at me!
I proudly raised my chin and said in my best 'I'm way too good for you' voice; "Well, I'm already on the McGill University early acceptance list. All I have to do is keep my GPA above 3.9. And it's 3.97 now, assuming this school doesn't totally ruin it."
She gaped at me for a second then dug for my transcript in the untidy pile in her inbox. Papers scattered everywhere without her seeming to notice.
I started to tell her I'd lost it, but then she found it, I guess Faraj had turned it in. I felt kind of sorry for bad-mouthing him, even if he didn't know what I'd been thinking. Just as well, I didn't think that losing my papers would've proved my point about being too smart for this school.
The receptionist called the principal out of his office. I was starting to think that my mouth had finally gotten me into trouble, but I really needed someone to realize that I was special. I didn't belong here, I was too intelligent, too classy, too... everything.
They gave me my schedule and a late pass and sent me to Civics class. I could hear them whispering and was dying to know what they were saying, but I had to get to Civics.
I was really happy to see both Faraj and Ash were in my class. Though I was a bit worried about his figuring out what I'd been thinking. I wouldn't tell him, of course, but I'd say thanks later for taking my stuff to the office. I carefully chose a chair in front of him, so that he wasn't in my line of sight.
The teacher was grossly fat, but seemed nice enough. I just wished she didn't have such a little girl voice. It grated on my ears. It was like having a balloon Lisa Simpson teach the class.
The afternoon was just like most hot, hazy afternoons in Ottawa. Air quality alerts, smog warnings, and a feeling like there was no oxygen at ground level. Except that instead of trying to avoid the heat in a nice, air-conditioned home, I was dealing with a combination of stuffy air and even stuffier teachers. They all seemed to play by the same rulebook. Make the least amount of effort possible, look really put out if someone asked a question, and make it seem as if it were our fault we got nothing out of it. If they had even seen what teachers were like at Montessori, they would have put away their chalk and died of embarrassment. I breezed through the classes with only one concern. Ash wasn't in math class. Not even a day in and she was already skipping classes. I forgot that she might be in remedial.
As school ended, the weather went from bad to worse. The wind picked up and then, just as I was about to leave the building, it rained. Poured! I thought about waiting for the storm to pass but after 10 minutes, it seemed as if this wasn't just passing through. I was getting up the nerve to start walking home, when Ash came around the corner of the building. She was soaked to the skin, and weaving a little. So were the two girls with her. She peered up at me through her dripping bangs, then pointed me out to her friends and laughed. I figured this wasn't going to be the friendly Ash.
"Look, it's the little lost sheep." She wove her way to me, and stared up at me, clearly puzzled.
"What're you doing, white girl? You forget the way home?" I just noticed then that her two friends were Native, like her. I was worried for a moment, but they seemed amused, not angry, about Ash talking to me. Ash drew up close enough for me to smell the alcohol on her breath. My heart sank.
"Onhka thi?" One of her friends bleared at me, who's that?
"Ontiatshi ne ki." Ashleigh replied in the same language, this is my friend.
"Tanon' onhka ne: nakaonha?" Who is she?
"kara:ken – white girl." They all laughed, and I shrugged, like I didn't care that they talked about me like I wasn't even there.
"So, you just gonna stand there?" Ash asked.
"I was hoping it would stop raining. I didn't bring an umbrella this morning."
"You made out of white sugar? You afraid you're gonna melt?" They all laughed at that, but it wasn't a mean laugh, so I joined in.
Ash slung her arm around my shoulder and hauled me off the steps into the monsoon. Within seconds my hair was plastered into my eyes, except for the parts that instantly frizzed up like a poodle on speed. One of the other girls stared at me, her eyes going wide.
"Wow, I wish I had curly hair." I was floored. Her hair was a thick black mass, cascading down her back like night. I'd have sold my eye teeth for her hair.
We started off down the street, Ash practically pulling me along. I wanted to ask her about missing class that afternoon, but just couldn't seem to fit it into the weird, wandering, surreal conversation the three were having. They acted like they'd forgotten I was even there, though Ash kept her arm crooked around my neck. I didn't mind, it was the only part of me that was still dry.