Slow Down, it's all Legit

The English room was set up in tables with two seats per table. I was sitting at the table furthest back with a boy who looked to care very little about the class. That was why his comment surprised me.

“So do you have any idea what this book is about?” he asked. “We’ve been trying to get it out of him, but he won’t tell us.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I know why he’s keeping it from you until the last possible moment so maybe I’ll just let you suffer,” I responded. A small smirk played on my lips and at the sight of this, he smiled a little too.

“Oh really? So you know all about this book, then? I’ll just have to find a way to get it out of you.”

“Oh I know all about it. I just finished reading it actually. And you could try to get it out of me, but I’m sure you’ll come up short.”

He raised his eyebrows at me, as if surprised by my derisiveness. “My name’s Zander,” was all he said in reply.

“Well Zander, I guess you’re lucky to be sitting next to me during this particular book, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I’m fairly certain that I’m lucky to be sitting next to you at all. It’s not the book I care about.” I really couldn’t believe that I was flirting with this guy that I had just met, and trust me, I knew that I was flirting. Just because I’d never done it before didn’t mean I wasn’t aware that I was doing it.

“So tell me, do you have a name, or can I just call you Mystery Girl for the rest of the year?”

“Well I must say that Mystery Girl does have a certain air to it, but my name is Amberlinne.”

“Amberlinne, I like that.” He seemed to be tasting the name in his mouth. “So Amberlinne, do you board? Or are you a skier? If you tell me you ski I will probably stop talking to you forever.”

“Rest easy Zander, I do not ski. I am not a very good boarder, though. I just started boarding a few days ago and let me tell you, it is not a pretty sight.”

Before the question was out of his mouth, the teacher Mr. Hurley gave us a meaningful look so Zander shut his mouth. I was glad that they all seemed to have such respect for him because I knew the next question that Zander was going to ask me. Why did I come here? It would be my question if someone came to Mammoth just to learn how to snowboard instead of to become a pro- if that made any sense.

There were a few extra minutes at the end of class for us to talk and I really did not feel like talking to Zander, even though I felt like he could be my first real friend. But again, Mr. Hurley saved me by calling me to his desk.

“Now I understand that you are living with you cousin, is that correct?” he asked and I instantly knew where this conversation was going. Right where I didn’t want the other one to go.

“Well, my father’s cousin, but yes I’m living with him.” The look he gave me left nothing to the imagination. He wanted to know what I was doing all the way in California. I sighed and decided I might as well tell him the story. “I’ve always been a dancer and that was what my father wanted me to be. Recently I finally told him that I did not want to dance anymore, I wanted to snowboard. He wanted nothing to do with me because I no longer wanted to dance. The end.” I didn’t really like telling him my story; it made me feel too exposed.

“So just like that your father decided that he would just dump you on the doorstep of some random relative?” When he spoke like that, he sounded just like a teenager. If he was a teenager, I would probably have hung out with him. Does that sound weird?

“Well, not exactly some random stranger. Shaun’s been trying to get my dad to let me snowboard for a while now apparently. It wasn’t until I told him that I wanted to snowboard did he finally let his cousin take over.”

“Why was your father so adamant about keeping you in dance if you were not happy with it anymore?”

“For one thing, I’m a good liar. He had no idea that dance held no interest for me since I was about nine. I had him convinced that there was nothing I’d rather do than dance every moment of my life. It made him happy so for a while I just wanted to do it because it made him happy.” I knew that I shouldn’t have been opening up to him, that it would just come back and bite me in the butt; it was just easy to talk to him.

“Well what was the other reason? Why did he want you to dance so much?”

“Can we not talk about it please? I would really rather not, if that’s okay with you sir.” There was no way I was telling him about my mom. That would have been way too personal for something to tell a teacher, especially on the first day.

He looked like he wanted to protest, but decided better of it and nodded his head slowly to agree that we would not talk about it. But I understood the meaning in the slowness of the nod- we would be talking about it at some point. I tried to hold in a groan. The bell rang then and I was out the door, trying to run from my past, as usual.