Days of the Phoenix

"Miss Morrison!" My head snapped up in rhythm with Mrs. Finn's ruler whipping across my left knuckles. A let out a small gasp of pain and bit my index finger gently as I corrected my posture, took a deep breath, and pretended to be completely interested in today's history lesson. "Third time this week," she scolded; a few girls in the back row giggled, "Pay attention, or your father will have to be informed." My pale grey eyes morphed into a frightful expression and gleamed with blue. As Mrs. Finn turned around, I muffled a snort as her disgustingly horrid puce dress rumpled around her bottom. The lace trim at the hem looked as if she had forgotten to move it out of the way while using the restroom-- too many times. It was noteworthy to mention to oneself to not stare at it for too long, or gagging would be the least of problems.

I glanced up at the clock at bit my lip nervously as the long, golden second hand pinched its way across the ivory face. Tick, tick, tick. Three minutes left. Tick, tick, tick. World War II? Okay, then... Tick, tick, tick. Two minutes. I tugged at a strand of my flaming red hair, making myself a mental note to get the highlights redone, as they were too orangey this time. Tick, tick, tick. One minute. It took all the self-control in my five-foot-three frame to keep from leaning over the oak desk. Tick, tick, tick-- A shrill bell screamed a silver rain over the classroom; not a rustle of a page was yet heard.

Mrs. Finn pursed her lips, taking her hands into their normal clasp, blinked a few times, then finally announced, "Lessons are over for today. I shall see you all on Monday, at seven forty-five." Books fell from the edges of desks, chair legs scraped heavily across the wooden floor [[Mrs. Finn cringed and glared disdainfully at the one responsible for such a noise]], and soft chatter began to unravel. Mrs. Finn took her usual charge and sat politely down at the chair behind her desk at the head of the room.

Zipping my plain black messenger back shut, I muttered to myself in my mind, Three thirty, back wall, three thirty, back wall, three thirty, back wall. Like the rest, I turned back to Mrs. Finn at the door, turned my heels to ten o'clock, and deepened my stance, making sure to pay attention to my spinal positioning-- like a string goes right through the top of one's head. "I bit you a farewell, Mrs. Finn," I said softly. She raised her furry eyebrows at me, slid her half-moon spectacles down her nose, and nodded approvingly. I bowed my head to the side and turned on my toe; my less-than knee-length skirt flew around my lower thigh gracefully, making me let out a sigh in relief as I realized that I hadn't forgotten my thin shorts... like last time. I shuddered at the memory, shoving it to the back wall of my mind.

A warm grin broke across my face when I reachd the flagpole; I loosened the white and black striped tie from my neck and unbuttoned the top three buttons of my black ironed shirt, thus allowing myself to breathe in the lovely car- and factory-polluted air.

"Hey, hey, hey, Phoenix!" An incoming attack from both sides impaled me as I inhaled sharply, preparing myself as best I could in time.

"Luna, Lumina," I replied the twins in a short gasp, hugging them only with my fingertips, as they had trapped my elbows from being bendable.

"Phoenix," growled the girl in front of me; I saw the green flash in her eyes before anything else.

"Ah, g'day, Mave..." I gave her a lopsided grin as the twins returned to their post at opposite sides of the cement flagpole base. I chuckled. They were so alike, what with their affectionate personalities and their passion for music, and yet they were as different as night and day, each sporting completely opposite outlooks on life and their looks-- the outer shell, which they could modify. Although, it's a bit hard to make yourself look too different from your identical twin, after all.

I gasped as a pair of strong arms slipped around my waist from behind. "Fey..." I turned in his genial embrace and stared up into his unwavering brown gaze. I buried my face into his able chest and entwined my arms around him, returning the favor.

"I missed you, Drake..." I told him breathlessly. I inhaled deeply, taking in his scent-- inscence, straightener clay, his natural boy-scent... His lips brushed the top of my head gently. I wanted the moment to linger on forever, but--

"Enough with this yuck fest!" Lumina exclaimed obnoxiously and loudly. "We have planning!" I retreated to my own personal patch of grass, a couple of feet away from the flagpost, and bounced on my toes.

"Workout!" I shook my hips ferociously and waggled my unusually unpolished fingers around my face, then jogged in place while bobbing my head and entire upper half of my body up and down. "Okay, I'm good." For another lame and disappointing usual, I glance upward at the foursome. Oh yes, the irony. Luna giggled 'secretly' like a hyena behind her right hand, her left laying numbly upon her metallic blue combat boots. Wonder how many referrals she's gotten for those this semester. I nearly snorted aloud. Her counterpart was on her feet again, pumping her gloved fist into the air, getting her blood rushing at an amazing tempo alongside me. Turning my gaze to my best friend, I remarked, "Bahaha, Mave, you emo..." Her long, straight ebony hair hung down in front of the main portioin of her face, at least with her head at this angle, and she held her knees into her chest with ankles crossed at her position, slumped over in front of the base of the pole.

"Shut up, lesbian."

"Go sew your mouth shut, or maybe even slit your wrists, emo."

"Go snog some random chesty Barbie, lesbian."

"I am not. I'm straight as a line. And at least I don't hide behind my hair instead of facing real issues."

"I'm not either, and at least I don't go out searching for manwhores with sex changes." I gasped, twisting my face into a front of complete and utter shock.

"Oh no you did not just go there."

"I believe I did." We held our glaring competition for a few more moments before we both broke down in hysterical laughter.

"Come on now, enough screwing around, we have work," said Lumina, stealing a look at her sister, who was tugging at her cobalt blue lolita ponytails. "We don't have time to label each other, we have a lot of practice before my mom's interviewing Nighttime Mayhem--"

"Oh my God!" Luna squealed.

"Luna, or should I say Lunatic, you've known about this for a while now. Stop getting so surprised."

"But but but--"

"Would you like to calm down? Because I know for a fact that a swift baseball bat to the kneecaps will make you agree with me pretty goddamn fast, and I'm not even kidding." Luna gulped and went back to twisting strands of sapphirre around her fingers. "Anyway, I don't want to embarrass myself in front of our favorite band, so we need practice... badly."

"Not too badly," I pointed out. "I mean, Drake was able to finish off that incredibly complicated, long-ass drumline perfectly, wasn't he? And last night, I nailed those high notes I've been having trouble reaching. Along with that, you three have been getting on with your gods, eh?" Mave nodded first, then Luna, and a reluctant Lumina came in third.

"Pshha, pshha. They have the easy instruments." Drake made a face. "And so do you, as a matter of fact." I opened my mouth in protest, but was interrupted before I began. "But, you do do such a lovely job." His deep chocolate eyes latched onto and looked into my soul for a few moments, creating a bubbling, giggy feeling in my head and throat before he turned back to the others. "You all do. A toast! With... an imaginary glass of emptiness..." We all raised our invisible champaigne glasses into the air and nodded in unison. "To the band!"

"To the band," we chorused back.

*****

"Gah... I hate our school..." I mumbled over a bag of Skittles. I rested my heavy head on one arm, the other tucked into my Nighttime Mayhem hoody, glad to be in comfortable clothes instead of the unorthodox uniforms the school made us wear. "I mean, they don't teach us anything, really. Sure, history's good to know so we don't repeat stupid mistakes, and yeah, okay, math is great to know--"

"Ugh, math..." Mave groaned.

"As I was saying, people use that everyday. Science, well, sure, we should know basic biology so we know how we are, or whatever, and English is important, kind of, for not sounding like a retard. But we don't need an hour of all of the above and beyond every single day. It's stupid. Annoying. And the uniforms!" I whined, either my hand and the earth beneath me moving upward or my head slipping down my forearm. "Hey..." I said suddenly, voice laced with intrigue, "have you ever wondered... if you found a ghost, if it would be a cat? And wouldn't you be attatched to this ghost cat? If you were to keep the ghost cat, would it need to be fed? And would it need to eat ghost kitty crunchies, or a ghost fish? If it needs the ghost fish, where would you get it? I mean, do ghost fish live in ghost fishbowls in ghost filtered saltwater? Or do ghost fish swim at all? And then, if you were to get the ghost fish, and prepare it in a ghost-manner, would your ghost cat even eat the ghost fish?" Luna's head cocked to the side, Mave stared at me in disbelieve, and Lumina's mouth hung open to show gobs of pre-chewed cookie. I winced when I saw this; motioning to Lumina to shut her mouth, she shook her head swiftly and continued on to swallow the chocolate chip clutter. Bleh. I shuddered.

"Fey... you're the randomest thing I know." Mave's smile, or maybe the sunlight filtering through the kitchen blinds, lit the room as she pulled down a box of Lucky Charms from my cupboards.

"Excuse me? Thing?" My nose wrinkled, and my eyebrows knitted themselves into a V. "And since when do you help yourself to my food?" I bounded up from the barstool and snatched up the box and spoon from her, hugging them to my chest, just as she brought down one of our porcelin bowls; simultaneously, the back door [[which, surprise, surprise, was adjacent to our kitchen]] opened and slammed in a blur of pea-green shades and white-painted wood.

"Honestly, Pheonix, I know you like eating raw cereal and all, but straight from the box-- with a spoon, nonetheless?" I nearly dropped the box and slim piece of silverware, flinching from the sudden burst of a voice embodied by testosterone. I felt my face flush with heat and a shade of pink as I returned the box to the white tile countertop.

"Finally..." hissed Mave from my left. The Twins giggled in unison before ending up scowling at one another.

"Anyway... uh, Pheonix," Drake started, nervousness was it? lingering in his tone, "can I talk to you... privately?"