Kamber

Chapter 5

My opinion of my name changes like the weather in Washington; for the most part it rains, or in my case, I just roll my eyes and try to bite down the rage at wishing I just had a name like Anna or Rachel- something commonplace that could take me everywhere and yet nowhere all at once. However every once in a while the sun peeks out, or I turn the anger from with the name itself to the world. I guess today is a sunshine kind of day.

As I sit in a class that I can only really describe as being the collegiate version of Sports Med, my teacher tries, and fails, to call on me when I raise my hand with an answer.

“Canter?” She calls out without anything but pure confidence, as if she is just certain that I must’ve been named for the speed at which a horse is no longer trotting but also isn’t galloping. Seriously?!

I don’t voice my aggression out loud of course, as this is a professor with years more education than I could ever dream of having. Instead I answer the question in a faintly mousy voice without lamenting her at all about the proper pronunciation of my name. It is after she turns away and resumes with the lecture that I let myself stew. I mean, Jesus, it’s not as if the name is that far fetched! There’s a K. A K. Why is that so hard for people?

I would understand if it were a really long name, even. Like Annastasiabelle or something, but it’s two syllables. There are numbers under twenty with more syllables.

I turn my attention back to my notebook, kind of embarrassed at myself for caring so much about something that I can’t change, but I’m not done being hostile yet. In fact, I spend the remaining forty-five minutes of Ms. Weslynne’s lecture tuning her out while thinking about how she’s only an A away from possibly being mistaken for a Weasley.

The Homecoming scene wasn’t really for Kate and me.

Maybe it was because neither of us had boyfriends, or maybe it was because neither of us had money. Either way we preferred to do Homecoming our own way; by painting the town while the roads were clear due to the aforementioned genius idea of hosting both school’s dances on the same night.

That year Kate and I chose to make it a girls night.

We began by attending a sappy chick flick at the local cinema, which we had to ourselves. Then we ate a simple dinner at our favorite Chinese place, also pretty deserted. And for the final event, as after years of training we could finally consider ourselves experts at pulling all nighters, we loaded up on candy and chips and pop at a gas station to take home.

Kate drove, and she drove a horrid compact car that had long ago surpassed a condition anywhere near desirable; one of the back windows had been busted and replaced with several layers of duct tape, something in the engine made an awful squeaking noise at any sort of jolt or shudder, and, among other things, the headlights worked only when they pleased.

By the time it had turned pitch dark we were only a few miles away from home. So far the lights had been working just fine, but somewhere just outside of town they decided to shut off.

“God dammit,” Kate muttered, immediately slowing down.

We’d been through this many times before. As Kate exhaled quietly so she’d be able to hear the squelching of an oncoming car’s tires I swiveled around in my seat and ran my hands along the carpeted roof of the car looking for the interior light button. My fingers fumbled and couldn’t find it.

“Hurry up!” Kate yelled at me, panicked. It didn’t matter how often she did it, driving blind scared the shit out of her. Not that I could blame her, of course.

“I’m trying! I can’t find it.” My fingers kept rubbing at the ceiling.

“What do you mean you can’t find it; it’s in the same place every time!”

“I know, I know. Just… just hold on.” I was desperately searching at that point, widening my eyes in the hopes of being able to claim even the smallest bit of vision. My heart was beating furiously.

“Ugh.” Then I felt Kate’s hand bump into mine as she reached up to find the button also.

“Kate! Both hands on the wheel!”

“I CAN”T SEE!”

And somewhere in the process of her panicked scream and the car hitting a bump in the road, Kate’s remaining hand on the wheel jerked sharply to the left where for one half of a second I saw a flash of light, mistaking it for having finally found the button when really it was the flashing of the other car’s headlights.