Ember

by Madison Daniel

  “…You…will be…the death…of me.”

  4:45 p.m.

  The journey home was a long one. As we walked in the house I tossed my guitar on the couch and collapsed right next to it. Oz ran for the kitchen and his water dish.

  “That bad huh?” Frank asked from above me laughing.

  “Not now uncle…I’m exhausted,” I said with my face buried in the cushion.

  “I’ll grab you a drink.” With a laugh he walked into the kitchen.

  “Thanks.”

  “How was the beach?” he called from inside the fridge.

  “Hot,” I yelled back.

  “That’s funny, it looked like it was storming like crazy that way to me.” He shrugged and handed me a bottled water. “Oh well, I know of some other beaches…”

  “No! That one was perfect.”

  “So you were able to get in some practice?”

  I looked at Oz and then back to him.

  “You could say that.”

  Morning Glory_04

  ~Amber: 311~

  Monday morning - 7:27 a.m. - August 14th.

  First days at a new school are supposed to be exciting and unforgettable. A scary mix of nerves and shame that help shape the person you are destined to become one day. I’ve had enough first days at new schools, that I was an expert in the trials of being the new kid. Every other semester I found myself in a fight with the school bully, causing me to lose control of my famous temper and making my father freak out. Or, if I was getting too close with my friends or girlfriends that they might find out my little secret, he would pack us up and find somewhere new to start again. No matter how much I kicked and screamed about leaving again. Unsurprisingly at each one of those places was another school, another first day, another batch of glares and stares. Thanks dad.

  I had high hopes for this coming school year, it being my last one. No more running and no more hiding. Just finish the last couple credits I needed and graduate. It was time to make something of myself and I was excited at the thought of my future and the fact that it would unfold on this tropical paradise. One of my uncle’s favorite quotes was, “Knowledge is power.” He was right. He’s always right...almost.

  A knock at the front door startled me from my rambling thoughts. I quickly threw on my faded tee shirt and ran for the door. I had to jump over Oz, who had now stretched his little frame across the living room floor. Sleeping away, with his tongue sticking from the side of his mouth. My feet hit the floor with a dull thud.

  “Hang on,” I called out. As my hand found the door knob I gave Oz one last glance and saw that he hadn’t moved an inch. Heavy sleeper. I opened the door not ready for what was on the other side. I found myself face to face with an angel.

  Her hair was blonde with slight hints of red streaming through it, as the morning sun radiated from behind her petite frame. Her blonde locks fell almost half way down her back and a hint of her sweet shampoo filled my nose. She couldn’t have been much taller than 5’ 2” but she gave off a much larger radiance. She looked up at my eyes with a quiet confidence I had never seen before. She was smiling slightly with an inquisitive look in her eyes. They were jade green and reflected her golden locks inside of them.

  She was dressed in a white tank top that exposed a cluster of freckles that resided on her round shoulders. Her blue jeans were snug and her car keys dangled from her right pocket. They would jingle with every slight shift of her hips. She looked casual yet proper. She was beautiful. Not the drop dead, gorgeous supermodel beautiful, but the girl next door beautiful.

  “Aloha,” she said smiling. “I’m Sam. Are you ready?”

  I was lost. I tried my hardest to focus and say hello back, but I think the most I was capable of spitting out was...

  “Alo...” At which point I closed my eyes and hoped I was still dreaming away, safely in my bed. A gentle laugh came out of her lips as I cracked open my eyelid and dared to sneak another peek at her lightly freckled face before I decided to run and hide. My face felt hot with my burning embarrassment.

  “Wow...you’re pretty good with first impressions Max,” she teased. Now I was falling deeper into my confusion. I had never met her before, yet she seemed to know me quite well. I shook off the embarrassment and willed myself back to reality.

  “Um...good morning,” my voice almost cracked but I stood firm and held out my hand to shake hers and smiled. She took my hand and softly shook it. My hands were warmer than normal and she noticed but only tightened her grip.

  “I’m Samantha Summers,” she said and looked for any sign of recognition. “I’m here to take you to school,” she continued but I only stared at her dumb founded.

  “Didn’t your uncle tell you?” she asked. I stared some more.

  “You’re uncle asked me to pick you up this morning,” she tried again. I turned and looked around the house for any sign of Frank “the matchmaker” Valentine but of course he had already left for work. Funny how he hadn’t mentioned any of this to me during the many hours of catching up we had done.

  “Uh...no. He didn’t say a word,” I said coyly. She paused for a moment then tilted her head slightly and a grin grew across her lips.

  “Surprise!” she burst out and before I could make any sense of what was happening, she reached past me and scooped up my school bag. She turned and walked quickly toward her car. I just stood there with my hands on my hips stunned. Swiftly she entered her car and waved to me.

  “Come on Valentine...I won’t bite.” She winked and slid behind the wheel. I grabbed my guitar and tucked my mp3 player in my front pocket. A smile filled my face as I ran out the front door and the slam from it woke Oz from his morning slumber. He bounced to his feet annoyed, looked around and let out a sigh. He ran to my bedroom, jumped up on the bed and plopped himself down, falling quickly back to sleep.

  Samantha’s car was small and compact, like her. A little, silver Toyota hatchback that my guitar almost didn’t fit in. It was maybe ten years old, give or take a year, but in good condition. She had a simple chain hung around the rear view mirror and it gently swayed back and forth as she drove off. The reason I noticed it first was because of what was hanging from the end of it. A tiny silver charm, shaped like a mask from the theatre. It was suspended inside a tiny oval and spun around easily when moved. One side was a mask with a giant smile and the other a mask with a depressive frown. It reminded me of an album cover I once saw. I liked it instantly. The rest of the front seat was very clean and smelled like her…strawberries.

  The engine purred along and she turned her radio to a local station that pumped out some poppy music. Her eyes watched the road and then found my hands. She stared at them for a second and then the tattoos I had on my arms. She only seemed to glance at the one on my left forearm before concentrating on the one on my right inside wrist. It made me uncomfortable, so I turned my hand away from her view.

  “So you have absolutely no idea who I am, do you?” she asked playfully.

  “Not a clue.” I smiled at her. “Samantha was it?” I asked playing dumb. I knew exactly what her name was and I would never forget it.

  “That’s right. You may call me Sam if you want.” She paused then found my eyes with hers. I let out a slow sigh.

  “So...do you make it a habit accepting rides from people you’ve never met before? Or is this a first?” Her hand pulled her bangs behind her ear and I felt my pulse quicken slightly.

  “Nah...I do it all the time.” I leaned back in my seat. “I usually only accept rides from sane people though,” I smiled.

  “Are you saying I’m crazy?” she asked flustered.

  “No, not at all,” I continued.

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “Look, most sane people don’t kidnap innocent young men they’ve never met before,” I said full of cockiness. “No matter how good looking they might be,” I added and her mouth fell open with a laugh.

  “Kidnapped?” she spit out.

  “Yup,” I
said a little too cocky and she glared at me.

  “You got in my car willingly. I did not make you do anything.” Her voice was rising now but she still sounded playful.

  “First of all, let’s get things straight. I had to come along for the ride...you had my bag. So either I call the police and report that I had just been violated by a cute little blonde or I let you kidnap me.” I sounded so arrogant but she didn’t seem to mind the “cute” comment. I smiled even bigger.

  “I was kind of leaning towards option one.”

  “Oh really,” she smiled.

  “Yeah, but then I figured, if she really is some kind of sicko I could probably handle her,” I said and checked her face for the recognition of my cynical humor. Her eyes seemed to laugh but her smile had faded a little. So, I stupidly continued.

  “I mean, you’re barely four feet tall...I think I could take you.” I laughed and realized I was the only one laughing. Uh oh.

  “You’d be surprised...things aren’t always what they seem.” Her tone was softer now but had a hint of seriousness. “I could be a raging ax murderer for all you know.”

  “Nah...You’re a good girl. I can tell,” I said. Instantly I could tell she wasn’t a big fan of those words, “good girl.”

  “Oh...am I now?” she spoke politely even though her face looked defensive.

  “Of course you are.” I decided to push a little more. That probably wasn’t the smartest decision based on the fact that all I knew about her was that my uncle knew her.

  “And I’ll tell you why.”

  “I’m listening,” she huffed politely.

  “Your car is simple and clean, very clean. That means you care about yourself and whoever might be in the passenger’s side. A bad girl wouldn’t care what other folks think.” I reached out and touched the necklace that dangled from the mirror.

  “You are an artist, or have a very artistic side. That’s why you like this necklace so much. You probably were given it by some great aunt or maybe a grandmother who was in the theatre herself and just as artistically driven as yourself.” As I paused to take a breath, I noticed her eyes were pulling together as if she was staring into the sun.

  “And the fact that it’s a pair of masks and not some bloody cross or skull tells me that you prefer the light and not the dark, another sign of a good girl.” I was on a roll now and felt more confident than usual. “And finally, my uncle wouldn’t trust you if you weren’t…a good girl.” I crossed my arms and sat back as far as I could in my seat.

  “You done?” she asked quietly. I smiled and nodded yes. She looked at me and I suddenly became very uneasy.

  “My turn?”

  “Shoot,” I said.

  “So…if I’m such a good girl, then I guess that makes you the typical ‘bad boy’…huh.” Her smile was completely gone now. “A big tough guy with his guitar in one hand and tattoos in the other.” She was upset. I covered my wrist with my left hand to hide the three letters inked across it.

  “The look in your eyes like you don’t care…” a wicked smile crept back on her face. “The smugness in your posture as if you’ve already got everything figured out. This island, this situation, this…girl.” Her eyes snapped back to the road. “You’re just too cool for all of it, aren’t you?” she finished.

  “Wow…” I felt stupid. “Tell me what you really think.” My sarcasm couldn’t hide that her observations were dead on. I was acting like a know it all and she called me on it. The fact was, I didn’t know a thing about her, just that I already liked her. She watched as I fidgeted in my seat.

  “Sorry Max,” she apologized. “Too much coffee this morning.”

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  “I don’t usually drink coffee in the morning. Only when I’m nervous about the day I have ahead of me,” she continued blushing.

  “It’s all right,” I said flattered. “But you don’t need to be nervous around me…I’m actually a ‘good boy’ trapped in a ‘bad boys’ body.”

  A laugh came out of her mouth so loud it scared me for a split second. “I meant nervous about the first day of school…” Her laugh grew louder and I started to heat up with embarrassment.

  “Oh,” I spoke softly as my face continued to change different shades of red. Her eyes watched me closely as I withdrew and she seemed to take comfort in my vulnerability. We rode in an awkward silence for a moment and then a new upbeat song began on the radio. Without even realizing it, I was singing along.

  “…Amber is the color of your energy…” I sang under my breath. Her smile returned as I sang.

  “It was my mother,” she said softly.

  “What?” I was caught off guard.

  “My mother gave me the necklace.” Her face brightened as she spoke the words and I could actually see the confidence wash over her.

  “Oh.” I began to compose myself. “I have done everything BUT figure out this island.” My thoughts quickly jumped to the previous afternoon on the beach.

  “And you’re right, I shouldn’t judge you so fast…” I said and she listened closely. “But I think I’m right about you…at least a little. You are a good person. I can already see that.” I looked her in the eyes and she turned her eyes to the road. She was still a little upset.

  “That’s why I got in the car so easily.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “And what exactly is this situation? How do you know my uncle?” I asked. She relaxed a bit and smiled at me again.

  “My dad, Tim Summers, works with your uncle. They’ve known each other since your uncle moved here,” she explained. “I’ve known Frank since I was little,” she said and a tiny giggle escaped my mouth. She looked over at me as a giant smile grew across my face. She still was...little.

  “I meant when I was younger and obviously smaller. Smart ass!” She was embarrassed now too.

  “I didn’t say a word,” I tried to convince her. Her face was red now.

  “I know I’m short,” she snapped with anger rising in her throat. I burst out laughing and she smacked my arm playfully.

  “You’re not short, just vertically challenged.” I couldn’t stop the laughter and she seemed less than amused.

  “Anyways…Frank asked my dad, to ask me if I would pick you up for your first day of school and make sure you made it on time,” she paused. “I take it you inherited your uncles sense of punctuality?” I nodded in agreement.

  “And on behalf of all the vertically challenged people in the world, I’m thinking about making you walk the rest of the way.” Her tone was playful again. I liked her voice when she was teasing me. It made me feel at ease for some reason. I barely knew her and I felt comfortable and safe.

  “I’ll be good,” I promised.

  Her tiny car rounded a corner and the school came into view. The parking lot was only half full. She made her way to the front of it and pulled into a spot slowly.

  “Thank you Sam,” I said as I opened the door and stepped out.

  “For what?” she asked curiously and turned the car off. I only smiled at her and reached in and pulled my guitar and bag out. She quickly followed my lead and exited the driver’s side.

  “Well?” she asked impatiently.

  “For the morning kidnapping,” I said from across the car. “For the ride, for your honesty…” I said and then paused. I swung my guitar around my back and turned and walked away. She seemed flustered and I turned back to her a few steps away and said.

  “For your smile.”

  I walked away towards the closest building, not having any idea where I was headed. I was trying to be cool and mysterious, the ‘bad boy.’ So I kept walking, not looking back. I rounded the corner of the building and pulled out the map of the campus Frank had printed up for me and tried to find my bearings. I set my school bag down and reached into my front pocket and pulled out my mp3 player. Quickly shoving the ear buds in my head and scrolling down my playlists to find a track to settle my nerves. Click.

&
nbsp; New Kid_05

  ~Island In The Sun: Weezer~

  “Ah...much better,” I said as I caught my breath. I pushed myself forward and started my journey to the administration office. As I walked, I noticed that the campus wasn’t too large. The buildings were older but in decent condition. The school colors, blue and white, covered almost every wall. I crossed an open court yard with benches that a few students were scattered throughout. It had a snack bar at the far end and was surrounded by trees. I made my way through it without too many glances and rounded the corner to find the office.

  I walked through the doors cautiously and found a boy in some kind of distress. He was tall and a little gangly, with long dirty blonde hair pulled back in some strange version of a ponytail that I had never seen before. His skin was tan and I could barely make out his eyes, but they looked brown. He had a pair of drumsticks on him, one in his shorts back pocket and the other in his hair, behind his ear. It was slid in there like a number 2 pencil.

  He was jerking around in a crazy motion as if someone was shocking him with a taser gun over and over. Now normally I would be on the floor laughing in hysterics at the sight of this, but being the new kid, I thought I’d play things more reserved. I approached him slowly and found that one of his tangles of long hair had gotten caught in the zipper of his blue pullover. He was grunting and cursing under his breath. At least I think it was cursing. His lips were held so tightly together that not much sound could escape. I almost lost it again and covered my mouth with my hand so I wouldn’t laugh. As I did, I looked around the office and noticed that everyone was quite aware of the boy’s dilemma but was ignoring him. This must not be the first time they had witnessed this show.

  I took a long deep breath, sat my bag on the floor and let my right hand heat up a little. I took a couple steps forward and found myself right in front of him. He looked up at me and nodded as if to say, “What’s up” and then continued his alien cursing.