\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/628801
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Book · Young Adult · #1511590
Love and Life- the two most complicated aspects of this world.
#628801 added February 11, 2009 at 10:07pm
Restrictions: None
Amber
6

When the last bell rang, I rushed to the library, not bothering to stop by my locker. Because my parents had confiscated my computer, I was going through serious withdrawal. I needed to check my email and messages before Josh showed up for tutoring and one of the evil librarians could kick me out.

Luckily, only a handful of computers were in use. I placed my backpack and books at an empty table then chose a computer close by but whose view was conveniently obstructed due to a long, low bookshelf. Since the computer didn’t have Outlook on it, I had to check through AT&T’s webmail page. None of the new messages were overly important. They could wait until this punishment was lifted.

I signed off and logged into my messenger service. Once again, none of the new messages were dire. Everything could wait. This thought made me sad. The shallow little things: online coupons, upcoming sales and parties, random fan mail—nothing made me happy anymore. I was done being Queen.

“Excuse me.” A hushed voice spoke from behind me.

I stiffened in fear. Oh no.

A low chuckle followed suit.

I immediately relaxed, swung around, and playfully smacked Josh’s arm. “Don’t do that!” I exclaimed.

He smiled. “Sorry if I scared you.”

“Scare me?” I hissed. “You gave me a freakin’ heart attack!”

He chuckled again. I stood, and together we took seats around the table my backpack was reserving.

“Shall we begin?” He asked.

I nodded. “Please, let’s.”

Without further ado, we jumped into reviewing my Chemistry study guide. It turned out that I had done better than I had thought. I told Josh of my surprise.

“You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for,” Josh remarked.

I snorted. “Ha! If I’m so smart, my life wouldn’t be falling apart!”

Did I just say that out loud?

Josh looked surprised. “Being smart and being able to fix the world are completely different, Micky.”

“Not the world,” I corrected, “just my life.”

Again?! Why did I have trouble keeping my mouth shut around this kid?

“Even so,” he said, “We don’t have nearly as much control over our lives as we would like to think.”

I looked up at him. Very philosophical.

He smiled at me.

“Sorry,” I muttered, hurrying to drop my gaze.

“Not at all,” he said.

We sat in silence.

“Is that why you hate me?” He questioned softly. “Because it’s just one more thing out of your control?”

I shook my head. “I don’t hate you.”

“Oh, right.”

I met his soft blue gaze again. “I like simple.”

He waited for more.

I closed my eyes. “More often than not, simple is linked with shallow. I’m a shallow…acting person. Deep inside…I’m too complicated. When I look at you, I connect to that complicated part of me. I don’t like it.”

Josh’s brow furrowed in thought. “Why?”

“Because you remind me of whom I used to be.”

After a moment of silence, he said, “You know that in itself is complicated.”

I nodded. “I try not to think about it.”

More silence.

“You try not to think about…much of anything.” He stated.

I looked up in defiance, insulted. I almost retorted, but his mind was elsewhere. He wasn’t being mean. His eyes stared off into space, deep in thought.

His gaze slid back to mine. “You drift.”

The truth was shocking—he was right. I had spent a good portion of my life just drifting, trying to block out the world. I chose not to reply.

The moment was over.

“Do you wanna hit Precal now?”

I glanced up at the big clock hanging over a row of computers. “Don’t you need to go get your brother?” I asked, more reminding than concerned.

“That’s why I was late,” he replied, “I called my mom. She worked out a sitter.”

I looked up into his blue eyes again. “For me?”

“My job is to help you pass. I’m doing my job.”

I suddenly felt choked with tears. I admitted to connecting with him and he pretends to feel nothing. I hate men.

“Then Precal it is.” I said through tight lips.

Josh flipped open his Precalculus book and began explaining the notes. I was able to understand the gist of what he said, but honestly, I tried not to pay attention. Drifting was so much easier. After a half an hour of me not absorbing Josh’s help, he called it quits.

He stood to leave.

“I’m sorry, Josh,” I spoke quietly.

He hesitated. I looked up at him. Nothing. No security, no soft blue eyes. Just a stare. He nodded and left the library.

I smacked the table hard; the loud, resounding crack startled the other students and the librarians. Damn, I thought, I blew it. I was so good at pretending to be shallow—I couldn’t even pretend to be me. I packed my things and rose. I left the library and began my journey home.

As I left the school, I caught Josh leaving in a small silver KIA. I kept my eyes straight forward as he drove past. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him drive away.

Shortly after he drove out of the parking lot, Sarah and Derek exited the building. They were holding hands and stopped when they saw me. I looked away.

Sarah spoke first. “You driving yet?”

I shook my head.

“Oh…that’s too bad.” She didn’t offer me a ride.

“Hey,” Derek said.

“Hey.”

Sarah laughed. “Micky, don’t be so bummed. I took your man. Big deal. You didn’t want him.”

I cringed.

Derek spoke quietly, “Leave her alone, Sarah. You know it isn’t her fault.”

I bit my tongue to distract me from their words. I stared at the ground.

“Does it matter?” Sarah asked.

“Sarah,” Derek said.

“What, Derek? I’m merely trying to understand her. She’s so…weird.”

“And my friend.”

“She broke up with you!?”

Derek sounded exasperated. “Sarah, here are the keys. I’ll be there in a second. I want to talk to Micky.”

Sarah took the jangling keys and said, “Fine.”

Derek waited for Sarah to walk away before saying, “Don’t pay any attention to her. She’s just jealous.”

I turned tear-filled eyes to him. “Of me?”

Derek sighed. “What I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t let her bother you too much.”

“Why would it matter to you how anyone affects me?”

“Look,” he said, “I know things ended badly, but I want you to know that I’m not out to hurt you, or get revenge, or just be mean.”

“You’re right.” I agreed. “That’s Sarah’s job.”

Derek’s jaw tightened. “Is this who you are now? A jerk?”

“Funny,” I said, turning my face away, “I could ask you the same thing…you and your bitch of a girlfriend.”

Derek huffed. “Fine, Micky. If this is how you want to be, I don’t care. I don’t need you.”

I didn’t reply.

Derek stalked off to his car and got in and drove Sarah and him away. I bit my tongue harder and fought back the tears.

My breath was visible as I sighed. It was cold, and I was tired of just standing on the sidewalk. I cut through the parking lot and began the mile walk home.

Not too many minutes later, a wispy flurry whipped into my rosy cheeks. It was snowing. The white world was lonely; I had never felt more alone. The world was quite; my thoughts were unfocused—here, in this snow-blanketed place I didn’t have to drift. I already was.

I breathed in the peaceful chill, allowing it to fill my chest cavity. It was refreshing. I stared down the street like I had back on Halloween. The white road called to me. My stomach rumbled, hungry with wanderlust—aching to drift permanently.

The thought of drifting reminded me of Josh. Sudden anger gripped me and the tears that I had been holding back trickled down my frozen face.

“I’m sorry, Josh,” I whispered to the wind, “I’m so sorry.”

It didn’t surprise me that my mother was already home when I walked in the house. She took one look at my wet clothes and red face and went into mom mode. She made me hot chocolate and took my clothes, letting them hang dry in the closet in the garage. I dressed in my pajamas, sipped my hot chocolate, and did my homework.

I skipped dinner—I was too tired to eat. Tonight I managed to miss the fighting match. I fell asleep before my father came home. Real Micky hoped that they didn’t fight at all. Once in a blue moon.

Like Georgia having snow in November? Exactly like it snowing in November.

Dreams evaded my slumber.

The next morning I woke before my alarm sounded. I woke thinking of her. I spent the next several minutes reminiscing. When my alarm rang, I touched the “off” button, rolled out of bed, and got dressed. Snow or no snow, we had school. Georgia’s snow is lucky to survive for one day. Wearing blue jeans, my long-sleeved Peerleader shirt, and a grey hoodie, I paused in front of my sink to study my reflection. Without hesitation, I ripped Derek’s necklace from my neck. I dropped it into the drawer with her photos.

Dad and I left at 6:20 am, just like usual. I was dropped off at the bus stop right on schedule. Today, I was alone, waiting in the glistening snow. The long road tugged at my arm, calling away. I squashed the wanderlust and pulled out my mp3. If I was going to drift, I might as well drown.

I hid my recently discovered headphones in my grey hoodie and pocketed my mp3. This way I could drown during class. I wasn’t much in the mood for good spirits. I turned the music to my usual screaming band. I hated heavy metal.

For my Chemistry test, I turned my mp3 off. I needed to concentrate as much as possible. Josh’s tutoring did a very nice job. I felt like I understood every question and aced the test—I kept my fingers crossed anyhow. I cringed at the thought of Josh. I had ignored him all morning, surprised he hadn’t tried to strike up a conversation like he usually did in the mornings. Taking the extra measure not to connect, I hid behind my dark curls, not caring that hiding solved no problems.

In Spanish, I used my wall of brown curls to protect me from Sarah. Interesting enough, she seemed just as eager to ignore me as I was her. What had changed? Had Derek spoken to her?

In Precal, I fought drifting and even succeeded in making a low A on a pop quiz. Yesterday’s tutoring had paid off yet again. I made a mental note to thank Josh.
During lunch, I bought a plastic bottle of water to sip, hoping that Josh would join me. Real Micky disagreed, saying that he wasn’t going to show. I shushed her. As I sat at my empty table, Josh walked by. He paused.

“Hey,” I called.

He hesitantly sat. “Micky…we need to talk.”

“You’re telling me! Thanks so much for the tutoring! I made a 92 on my Precal pop quiz and feel really good about the Chemistry test. You’re awesome, Josh, really.”

He smiled.

I smiled back. “We gonna work on Precal?”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted talk to you about. Now that you understand better, you can get yourself back on the right track. You’re smart, Micky. You really don’t need my help.”

I frowned. “But…” was all I managed to say. Confusion filled my mind.

Josh stood and joined another table—Marshall’s. My heart filled with contempt. No explanation? Stupid boy.

“So…”

Uh-oh.

I turned around. “Hey, Sarah.”

Why did Josh choose now to leave?

“Your new boyfriend dump you already?” She nodded in Josh’s direction.

An eyebrow lifted. “Actually, I dumped Derek, remember Sarah?”

She frowned. “Right. Everyone knows he humiliated you when he mentioned you’re cheating on him. He broke up with you because you chose Josh instead of him.”

“Is that what he told you?” I growled.

“Derek? Oh…no…That’s what the whole school is saying.” Princess flipped her hair.

I stood to face her. She looked uninterested.

She nodded at Josh again. “Does he know you called him a ‘loser?’”

In one second, my tense muscles shot my arm up and out, punching her squarely in the mouth. In another second, Sarah lay on the hard cafeteria floor. The whole room was silent.

I leaned over, picked up my bag, grabbed my water off the table, and then escorted myself to the principal’s office. I was no longer Queen.

I was pretty sure Josh’s eyes followed me out. I was pretty sure Ron’s eyes gave me a hard and apathetic stare. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

I turned myself in, confessing to my heinous crime. I’m pretty sure the principal, an older man with thinning red hair and gold-rimmed glasses, was shocked—too shocked. He assigned me with Saturday school until the end of the month. I frowned. It wouldn’t be enough. I almost argued for more. I didn’t want to look like an idiot. I spent the rest of the school day in ISS. All my homework was done before school was over, music blasting the whole time.

I joined the current when the bell rang, releasing the students from school. I indifferently stood up a tutor that probably wasn’t going to show anyway. Suddenly, Derek pixilated at my side. I looked up at him, not even surprised.

“Don’t do this.” He pleaded.

I merely stared at him.

“I know what you’re up to—don’t do it. I’m sorry if I started this, but, please, just don’t do this.”

“Do what?” I asked. He sounded mentally impaired.

“Don’t follow Amber.”

My feet stopped at her name. My expression remained the same. “You’re insane.”

Derek had stopped, too. “I may be, but I recognize the signs. Don’t do this.”

“Shut up,” I said quietly.

He shook his head. “I can’t make a difference, can I?”

“Are you asking my permission?”

“At least I won’t be able to say that I didn’t try.”

Derek left.

I stayed frozen in the current.

Will it be enough?

I barely made it onto my bus in time. When I entered my warm, empty house, I curled up in my bed, completely dressed, and rocked myself to sleep, music blaring. I slept fitfully but dreamlessly, hoping for it all to end.

I woke to my mother’s voice. “Michelle.”

I opened my eyes obediently. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Saturday school?” The school had left a message on our answering machine.

I shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s all you have to say?”

I nodded. Punish me, please. Don’t let me drift…

“I want you to think about why you behaved the way you did. When you have thought long and hard about it, I want you to talk to a school counselor about it.” My mom left, closing my door behind her.

A counselor? Why not my mother? Or my father?

My parents argued at a manageable volume that night. Like they were afraid. Afraid of dealing with me? Did they see the signs, too? Did they know what to do with me?

I soon fell into another sleep, this time dreaming for the first time in weeks:

I was in a brightly lit grassy meadow. The sun was pleasantly warm. I turned my face to it, wiggling my toes in the tall, soft grass. I felt perfectly at peace. Somewhere in the distance, I heard a creek bubbling.

Sweet laughter suddenly came from my right. I turned my head and saw a blond figure robed in white, kneeling by a smaller creek. I started after the blond curls, wondering if it really was who I thought it was.

The tall grass tickled my knees and silenced my tread. The figure half-turned to me. I drank in the sight on her face, her body, and her laughter.

She smiled sweetly at me. “Micky, watch this!”

I watched in fascination as she pulled the crystal water into the air, hands-free, twisting and shaping it into beautiful loops and flowing arcs. The sight was extraordinary.

“Amber,” I finally managed to breath.

Amber placed the water back in its bed and turned wholly to me. “It’s been too long,” she said, opening her arms for an embrace. I gladly hugged her, taking in her soft lavender smell. I suddenly realized how much I missed her scent.

“Too long,” I whispered in agreement.

She held me out at an arm’s length. “You look different,” she commented. She passed her ivory hand over my face. “You’re older…and thinner.” Concern flooded her face, and my stomach fluttered.

“Are you skipping meals?” She asked. Her frown insulted me—she was disappointed.

I didn’t reply.

“They’re fighting still, aren’t they?” Her frown faded into a hopeless look.

I nodded.

She smiled wryly. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“I don’t.” I sighed.

Amber took a moment before asking, “Why are you here?” She motioned to our difference in clothing—her white robes and my jeans and hoodie. “You’re clearly not…” Her voice faded away.

I shook my head. “But that’s what I want to talk about.”

Her frown returned.

A suspenseful silence settled between us.

“Why did you do it?” I asked quietly.

She gazed at the soft grass. “Do you miss me?”

Sadness suddenly gripped my heart, and I choked on my tears. “Yes,” I squeaked.

She smiled. “Don’t.”

Confusion mixed with sadness. “Do you regret it?”

“Nope.”

I motioned to our surroundings. “Are you happy?”

She stared deeply into my eyes. I had forgotten how green her eyes were. Sadness overwhelmed me again. My eyes were just like hers.

“You’re looking for someone to teach you…about Life.” She laughed dryly. “Well, if Life was a class, then I’d have to say I have failed. Clearly, I’m not fit to teach.”

Confusion and disappointed tinged my sadness. “But you don’t regret it,” I pressed.

“No,” she repeated, “No, I don’t regret it. But I failed at Life regardless.”

I shook my head. I collapsed at her side. “I’m just so confused, Amber.”

She looked at me. Her ears suddenly perked up at some intangible, unheard, unknown voice.

“I have to leave you soon.” She said calmly. She lost herself in the soft, warm grass.

“Why’d you do it?” I repeated.

“Do you miss me?” She replied.

Choked with tears again, I angrily blurted out, “Why can’t you just answer me?”

She calmly placed a cool, ivory hand on my knee. “You miss someone because you love them.” She dropped her gaze then raised her green eyes to mine again. “I miss you.”

My brow furrowed. What was she saying? “I don’t understand.”

Her gaze dropped again. “It’s complicated.”

I buried my face in my hands. It was all too familiar.

She rose silently. I looked up at her. “I love you so much, Micky.”

“For love?” I asked incredulously.

She dropped her gaze again. “I have to go.” I didn’t look up at her. “Tell Mom and Dad that I say ‘hello,’” she added as she left.

I cried for a long time after she left. Why did Life have to be so complicated? I turned my face to the sun, tears streaking down my flushed cheeks, and closed my eyes.

Suddenly I was awake; my pillow was soaked with my tears. The sun was gone; there was no creek, no grass, no Amber.

My alarm was softly crying. I pressed the “off” button and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. My dream was nigh believable.

The last time I spoke to Amber was The Day. We, my family, never spoke of her anymore. That Day my parents began sleeping in separate rooms. Both easily blamed themselves.

“Don’t blame yourself,” she had said. I had never really thought that The Day happened because of me; I refused to think it.

I forced myself to get out of my warm bed, haphazardly throwing my blanket over my pale blue sheets—they used to be hers, I suddenly recalled. I had been using them since The Day.

When I looked in the mirror, my disarray of curls framed sunken cheeks and green eyes. I was surprised to see me dressed in the same clothes that I had worn yesterday. I had slept with them on. I rubbed on some fresh deodorant but didn’t change. Why bother?

Fortunately, my Dad didn’t notice when we rendezvoused in the Audi. I debated whether to tell him about my dream. I knew I had to pass on Amber’s hello, but it would mean explaining my dream. Editing was my only option.

“Amber says ‘hello,’” I said quietly, breaking the silence.

My father pretended not to hear me, but his jaw clenched, grip tightened, and chest swelled with anxiety. Curiosity was burning within him.

“She told me in a dream…last night.” I said, somewhat lamely.

My father deflated. Disappointed? Had he really hoped? He bit his lip. The car stopped moving. I wrapped my jacket tighter around my frame. Was my jacket looser than usual?

My hand rested in the door handle. “She hasn’t changed,” I whispered.

My father still didn’t respond.

I gave up and opened the door. As I stepped out, my father surprised me by calmly calling my name:

“Micky.”

I turned, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

“You have your driving test this Saturday after your Saturday school.”

I froze. Really? “Thanks,” I said.

He nodded. “You need you license.”

Suspicion crept into my mind. He realized that allowing me to indulge my wanderlust would most likely be heartbreaking, right?

He sighed. “Have a good day at school.”

I quietly shut the door and stood at the bus stop. I watched him drive away. Those words hadn’t been spoken in a long time. Had mentioning Amber really turned him into a human again?

Pleased but wary, I stood alone and waited for the bus to come. For the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel the biting cold. The street didn’t call to me either. I felt at home, in peace. I quietly thanked Amber.
© Copyright 2009 Amber Hawkins (UN: hbird at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Amber Hawkins has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/628801