(Un)Fortunate

Chapter 12

I shove the rest of my sandwich in my mouth. It fills my cheeks and makes me feel like a chipmunk. A boy approaches me as the bell rings. I quickly swallow the BLT I ate for lunch and smile at the boy walking towards me.

"Uh, hey Ellie," He says, looking down at his shoes.

"Hi, can I help you with something?" I say, smiling politely.

"Well, I just wanted to say I am sorry to hear about your brother. I also wanted to give you this," The boy says, holding out a small envelope.

"Thank you so much! I can't wait to open it," I take it, holding the palm sized card to my chest. He quickly nods and walks away. As he walks away, he mumbles something I don't quite catch.

"Oooh, who is your lover boy?" Jen teases, joining me in the hall on the way to our locker.

"I don't know, some random freshman," I say, as she takes the package from my hand.

"Can I open it?"

"No, I want to, later. With Caleb," I say, grabbing it from her, my voice cracks a little bit when I say his name and I slide the envelope into a box.

There are at lease 15 envelopes and 10 small gifts of roses or mini balloons or some small package. I started putting them in a box I found in one of my hours. Its full already.

My locker has a certain aroma. A mix of dirty gym clothes, flowers, and the scent of perfume fill the air with an unpleasant smell. The smell reminds me of the time the toilet clogged at my house. We had to call the plumber, and something malfunctioned with the pipes and it spilled all over. The smell was indescribable.

Anyways, I then head to my next hour, history with Mr. Sumit. I really love his class. He teaches the same stuff as the other teacher, but somehow manages to keep you interested in the topics.

"Okay ladies and gentlemen, who here has heard of Louis and Clark and their journey across the country?" Mr. Sumit questions. Everyone raises their hand.

"Okay, now close your eyes," I close my eyes, and see the black of my eyelid.

"Now I want you to visualize everything you know about this historic journey, and I want you to tell me, without opening your eyes, one person on that journey," Mr. Sumit draws you in, preying on your knowledge.

I raise my hand, but he calls on Cam.

"Sacagawea," He answers, breathlessly.

"Perfect, now imagine yourself, standing on the open frontier, watching the herds of buffalo mosey by. The prairie grass sways in the wind, and you hear the faint hoot of an owl as it swoops down, catching a field mouse,"

I imagine it, with very great detail. Mr. Sumit has somehow created a picture that fools your imagination and tricks you into believing in what you see.

He teaches us that you can create your own image, just as you can in life. In life, you may not be able to close your eyes and dream up a perfect scenario, but instead create your own picture by making your life the way you want it to be. He always says: The closer you look at life, the less you will actually see.

"Do you see it?" He says, I hear his footsteps come toward the front of the room.

"Yes," we all say in unison.

"Okay, open your eyes."

We all open our eyes, expecting to be squinting in the sudden light, but are pleasantly surprised. The lights are off and a video is up on the screen. For the remainder of the hour, we watch a short video on the Corps of Discovery.

The bell rings and it begins the last hour of the day. For me, it is gym. I go to my locker and put in the combination.

"Shoot! Why won't  it open?!" I say, kicking my locker. I groan as the bell rings to signal the start of class and head off down the hall. I am going to be in so much trouble.

"Miss Arielle, where is your gym uniform?" the gym coach asks, staring me down.

"My locker jammed, I could not get it out," I say, wincing as she blows her whistle.

"Who has an extra uniform Miss Arielle could borrow?" She says again, walking in between the rows of kids, warming up for gym.

Jen luckily raises her hand. I heave a sigh of relief and follow her into the locker room.

"Thanks," I say, taking the pair of basketball shorts and t-shirt from her.

No problem, I owe you from that time in freshman year when you stood up for me when I forgot my homework," She chuckles, remembering the days when the gym coaches scared the pee out of us and the teachers were not much better. I swear, in ninth grade, the teachers are scarier and as you get older, they slowly begin to get nicer.

"After I change in the bathroom stall, I throw my stuff in Jen's locker and we both go back out to the gym area.

The gym coach explains to us we are playing tennis today. I pick up a tennis racquet and start to bounce the ball on my racquet, bouncing it higher and higher. Eventually, it gets too high and I find myself scrambling to catch it as it comes tumbling down. I wince, ready for the whistle from my gym teacher scolding her, but it never comes. I open my eyes and are greeted by electric blue eyes.