Acquiescence

two : March 3, 2011

T W O

March 3, 2011

Marley Fletcher had counted ninety tiles on the ceiling of her Government classroom: ninety, monotonous blocks of chalky grey concrete, one for each minute of time endured learning the nooks and crannies of American politics. Of course, Marley was still about as uninformed and clueless as she’d been at the start of the semester; Mr. Jameson was a good teacher, to his credit, and Marley’s grade never dropped below a ninety-three percent, but her affection for daydreaming and disinterest in politics proved detrimental to actual understanding.

After a quiet sigh, Marley let her head drop to the desk. Her chocolate brown hair fanned over the pencil-stained surface, a unique compliment to her ivory skin. She was thin, and of average height, with deep cinnamon eyes and a permanent, cherry blush on her cheeks. Her appearance was sweet, as was her demeanor: no misconduct, no disrespectful comments, and no hyperbolic fights with her parents or her friends. Marley was a lovely, eighteen year old senior at Amber Hill High School.

Mr. Jameson glanced up at the clock, setting the government textbook on his desk. “Five minutes left. You can talk amongst yourselves. Remember, there’s a unit test on Friday.”

After engaging in a polite mental cheer, Marley turned around in her desk to face Olivia Churchill. Olivia was much like Marley: amiable, polite, with golden blonde hair and pale blue eyes. She was pretty, with full strawberry lips and dark curtains of eyelashes. But, also like Marley, her charming good looks had gone unnoticed up to that point. Both girls could claim no complicated history of relationships, no passionate picnics at the beach; only Marley had been kissed, and that was with a childhood friend she’d always found obnoxious.

The two girls weren’t stuck up, nor were they particularly picky; they’d just been unlucky, too timid to truly compete with the audacious stock of girls at Amber Hill.

“Where are you going for lunch?” Olivia asked, stifling a yawn.

Marley shrugged, “I’ll probably stay on campus. I’ve finally run out of money, I think.”

“Join the club!” The exclamation came from Noelle Jay, whose rambunctious personality was only matched by her fire truck red hair. She propped her elbows up on Marley’s desk, smiling with playful sympathy. Noelle, despite her fondness for smoking weed from an apple and drinking cheap beer with her boyfriend from Nevada, was a consistent recipient of Marley’s affection. For all her harmless flaws, Noelle was fiercely devoted to the friendships she maintained, as willing to spend a night gorging on ice cream and episodes of The Bachelor as she was to listen to endless rants on the futility of high school romance.

Marley adored Noelle as much as she admired her; and Noelle, always generous, showered her innocent, inexperience friend with unrivaled respect and unparalleled loyalty. Such were the friendships of high school girls: powerful, passionate, and not always fleeting.

Meanwhile, Olivia smiled, “That’s what parents are for. It’s a nice day though, so it makes sense to stay here.”

After the strident chime of the lunch bell, and a calm, faintly enthusiastic goodbye from Mr. Jameson, the students of second period AP Government methodically filed out of the classroom, escaping its grey walls for the warm embrace of afternoon sunlight.

Even as Marley’s patience for the routines and faulty traditions of high school dwindled, she couldn’t help but acknowledge that Amber Hill was a good school: seated in the heart of the California Wine Country, it was blessed with a landscape of rolling, emerald fields bordered by parallel lines of grapevines and elaborate farmhouses. The sun wasn’t yellow in Napa: it was golden, painting the land below it in a glimmering sheen of copper dust. Every morning sky was pale, baby blue, every sunset a canvas with streaks of orange and purple and pink. Color came alive with the fumes of fermenting wine, and everything was beautiful.