The Iceberg Tipping

School starting was the second thing on Emma’s ‘most hated things’ list. The dusty smelling hallways and the empty rooms that no one’s filled since May. It was the way that the teacher’s eased their way into lessons that set Emma on edge. Walking down the hallway was like walking onto a battle field, everyone ran into you and no one was important enough for Emma to want to stop and talk to. She watched her feet and avoided others’ feet.
indent A week passed before the teachers started cracking down and one particular Science teacher put a new rule into motion; seating charts. Emma groaned along with the rest of class when it was announced but quietly found her new seat while the rest complained. “Hi, I’m Rory,” a tall and thin boy murmured with a small, shy wave. Emma nodded, hardly giving him a second glance. “You must be,” he looked up at the board, ignoring the fact that his brown hair was a quarter of an inch too long and hung in front of his eyes, “Emma?”
indent Emma nodded, also ignoring the too long hair and the awkward introduction offered by the boy beside her. The teacher, a new least favorite amongst the students, started her lesson, pointing out different equations and how to balance formulas. Emma groaned quietly, realizing they were still reviewing from the year before. Rory, out of the corner of his eye, watched Emma frown as she paid close attention to the teacher. It’d been a whole week and he hadn’t noticed the girl, even though she was beautiful.
indent In the hallway gossip Emma was popular; beyond popular, Emma was infamous. The word spread fast about her ‘fall from grace,’ she was no longer popular in the good sense. She was a creature lurking in the back shadows and something to be feared. Rory had known Emma in that light, but watching her now, all he could think of was how misplaced the rumors felt. Her dark hair fell loosely around her face, thin strands running into her eyes, the eyes that reminded Rory of winter and that first frost.
indent It was that first frost that always seemed the worst, he knew. His mother complained continually about her missing plants the day after and he, himself, complained about the sudden and bitter cold it presented. The ice of her eyes presented a challenge, though, to Rory, and it was that challenge that put a determined look into his eyes; their green gleamed with mischief as he full on stared at the girl that fate had sat beside him.
indent Hanna, blonde hair in curls and body in a ball, sat at the back table watching the two curiously, a look of intrigue upon her face. She’d been waiting months for someone to come around and break through her former best friend’s new icy exterior. To Hanna, it was as if she merely blinked and her friend was just gone; replaced by a mannequin. There were no emotion in Emma’s eyes and it killed Hanna to have to notice it from a distance, too afraid to try and fix her. Finally, though, Hanna thought, someone who knows how to save a life.