Uncharted

Chapter 2: Roll Calls and Other Tragedies

It seems as though every girl has the desire to be the center of attention embedded in their genes. I, on the other hand, must be genetically mutated because that is the last thing I want. It's not that I'm shy or lack self-confidence or anything, it's just that I prefer to stay out of the lime light.

As I stepped foot into the occupied classroom all eyes turned to fixate on my perpetrator and I.

"Ah, it appears that Romeo and Juliet have finally decided to join my class." A short stubby man greets us. "I certainly hope you've enjoyed locking lips behind the lockers or whatever other form of PDA you youngsters do now a days, but I would like to begin attendance now if you don't mind."

Pausing for a moment he glares at us through his thin glasses. "I will excuse you both this time, even though you were five minutes late, being the nice guy that I am but next time I promise you I will not be as forgiving. Do you understand?"

This is what you get for being so nice to people, Kenna.

David turned to give me a weak smile, an apology written in his green orbs. I pointedly ignored said smile and proceeded to find a seat before any more unnecessary attention was given to me.

"And now to start attendance, unless there will be further interruptions..." The rude teacher announces with a lethal stare specifically targeted at me and the clumsy oaf who got me into this mess.

I looked everywhere in the classroom to avoid making eye contact with the teacher who by now, probably came to his own conclusions about what kind of student I am.

Please, he doesn't even know me.

This point made me think about what the teacher mentioned prior. Did he say attendance?

The first week of the school year has always been a dreaded time for me and quite possibly for other students whose parents didn't chose to give them a generic name, opting for complicated sounds that paid appreciation to their many diverse backgrounds. Usually this wouldn't be a problem, but the school system works in such a way that on the first week teachers call out names of each student. This concept is called the Roll Call.

Feared by many teachers and few students, the roll call is quite possibly one of the most tedious and embarrassing experiences for those of us with ethnic names. But with eleven years of experience in dealing with the roll call, each person becomes accustomed to the various ways that their name can be butchered.

So when Mr. Higginbotham began calling out the names of my classmates, I readied myself for yet another name slaughter.

"Michael Ambrose" He said with a stern voice.

"Here"

"Samantha Anderson"

"Here" She replied boldly

He looked back at his list, this time his eyebrow quirked.

That's my queue, ladies and gentlemen.

"K--k- Keannah? App-hi-ah?" He mumbled, still squinting at his list.

"Key-anna App-hi-ah," He repeated, this time with ample confidence.

I sighed. Sadly, it could have been much worse. Raising my hand I corrected him, "It's Ken-ah Ah-pee-ah." A feigned smile appeared on my face to lessen the harsh tone I used to correct him.

The girl sitting across from me inched closer to whisper something in my ear.

"Your name is so pretty and unique, Where are you from?" she smiled.