Tame Chapter 1

At the end of the school day I walked over to the school’s central office to sign up for the Art Club. There was a long, horizontal bulletin board outside of office that stretched along the wall. Enacted on the bulletin board were about fifty sheets of papers with each of the clubs that would be offered to students this year.

There were a certain number of lines on each sheet indicating that once these lines were filled the club was officially no longer offered to students. It took me about five minutes, but eventually I found the signup sheet for the Art Club.

About thirty spots were open and the list already had thirteen names filled out. I grabbed a pen and signed my full name: Amanda Scarfield. I read a few of the names on the list to see if anyone I knew from last year was returning and I was slightly caught off guard to see Heather had her name signed second on the list.

She must have found out from someone that Mr. Richwood was in charge of the club and seized the opportunity to join the club as a way to get closer to him. This only angered me, especially since Heather wasn’t even interested in Art.

I took my pen and scratched her name off until it was unreadable. It wasn’t like me to do anything like this, but I had to do something to prevent Heather from getting close to him.

“Hello Miss Scarfield.”

I turned my head to see Miss Daniels walking out of the office. She was holding a stack of papers that led me to infer that she had just made a bunch of copies.

“Hi, Miss Daniels,”

“Are you signing up for any of the clubs?”

“Yeah, the Art Club. I really like to draw.”

“That’s good,” she nodded. “Participating in sports and clubs always look good on a transcript. Well, see you tomorrow.”

“Alright, bye,”

Miss Daniels turned and made her way down the hallway. I directed my attention back to the sign up board hoping that Heather or any of the teachers wouldn’t find out that I was the one who had blackened her name out. Feeling slightly paranoid, I considered rewriting her name on the list, but quickly decided against it since the handwriting would match my name.

What was wrong with me? I was so much better than this. I turned and began to head down the empty hallways. I was going to be walking home alone today because Heather had gotten a ride home with Ann Windslow and her new cliché. I thought about how I had managed to have a friend for barely three months, only to lose her because we both shared an obsession over a guy that probably didn’t even care about either of us. Was it worth it?

As I made my way down the hallway, I was approaching the Art class room, but a flow of voices coming from the room halted me. Mr. Richwood was talking to someone and it sounded like a group of people.

I slowed my pace, glancing around to realize that I was the only one in the hallway. I feared that maybe he was talking to Heather. She probably thought coming by after school when he was alone would be a more suitable approach.

I tip-toed toward the door and peered around the corner into the classroom trying to get a glimpse of the people inside the room. From the angle I was standing on, I spotted Mr. Richwood was sitting in his chair at his desk and surrounding his desk were about four female teachers. I recognized two of them, Ms. May the French teacher and Ms. Lynwood a history teacher for the ninth graders. The other two I was unsure of who they were.

“So do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” said Ms. May to one of the teachers that I didn’t know.

“Well,” replied the teacher. “I have a conference with the administration about some new books. What about you Ron?”

Mr. Richwood replied. “I’m going to an art seminar.”

“Really, that sounds interesting,” said Ms. Lynwood in a voice that anyone could classify that she was pretending to be interested. “I’ve never been to one, mind if I tag along?”

“Uh,” Mr. Richwood shrugged. “Sure, why not? It’s about three hours and the speaker is going to give a lecture about Leonardo Da Vinci and his artwork.”

“Really?” said Ms. Lynwood. “I love Da Vinci.”

“Really, which of his work do you like the best?” Mr. Richwood asked curiously.

There was a short silence that indicated Ms. Lynwood didn’t know a thing about Da Vinci and that she was only trying to appear as though she was interested in him to impress Mr. Richwood or tag along with him on what she hopped would be a first date. The whole thing made me sick to my stomach. It was bad enough I had to worry about Heather, but now I had to worry about teachers trying to steal him away too?

“I…,” stammered Ms. Lynwood and then pulled it together by saying. “Love all his work.”

I was pretty sure Mr. Richwood knew what her real intentions were, but he was too polite to call her out on them.

“Well that’s great. It not for another hour though,”

“That’s okay.” said Ms. Lynwood. “I have some paper work to catch up on. We should take your car.”

“Alright,”

“Well you two have fun and tell us all about it.” said Ms. May. “If I knew anything about Art, I’d come too.”

I heard someone coming down the hallway which led me to ease away from the doorway in the opposite direction. I didn’t want Mr. Richwood to see me walk by his classroom or figure out I had been eavesdropping. I decided to take the long way around the school to the other door.

I not only had to worry about Heather, but also the other single female teachers in this school who wanted to cling on to Mr. Richwood.

_________

When I got home, I was surprised two things. The first thing was that Heather’s father had his car in the front yard, which indicated he was home. This was a rare thing since he was usually at work.

Mr. Drysdale walked out of his house and when he spotted me he waved to me. He was dressed in his work uniform for some fast food restaurant.

“Hi Amanda, do you know where Heather is? I wanted to talk to her before I headed to work.”

“No,” I shook my head as I climbed the stairs of the threshold leading into my house. “She was with some friends.”

“Well, if you see her, tell her to call me.”

I nodded and then made my way into my house. I wasn’t sure where Heather was, but I really didn’t care. I thought about the fight we had earlier and began to wonder whether or not losing her as a friend over Mr. Richwood was worth it.

The second thing that surprised me was a phone call from my mother. It was barely a minute long, but she called to check in on me and told me that she had a day off at her second job and would meet me after school. I was thrilled to have some time to spend with her and then hung up the phone.

I found my sketch book in my room and began to work on a new picture. I drew two friends arguing and in the center of them there was a large heart that was cracking into pieces.

The next day when it was lunch time I walked to the cafeteria unsure where I was going to sit. I hadn’t spoken to Heather since we had gotten into that argument that ended our friendship yesterday. She was her typical self today when we were in Art class, being flirtatious as usual, but the only thing that was different was that she ignored me.

I stepped into the lunch room and spotted her sitting at the table with the cool kids. The spot I had been occupying yesterday was now filed with some boy I didn’t know, indicating that I was no longer welcomed at that table. This didn’t bother me the least bit because I never really felt comfortable at that table.

I turned around and headed toward Mr. Richwood’s classroom since he said I could join him for lunch any time. I no longer had to stay loyal to Heather and so I could have lunch in his class just like I did last year.

_________

When I reached his classroom I knocked on the door and then entered. The classroom was empty of students and the teacher. I wasn’t sure where Mr. Richwood had gone, but considered returning to the lunch room. I feared if anyone walked by and caught me in the room by myself I would be scolded.

After several minutes of internal debating, I decided to take a seat and wait about five minutes. I didn’t want to return to the lunch room and have to sit at the Left Overs Table. I sat in my old desk that was directly in front of Mr. Richwood’s.

I quickly ate my lunch then continued the sketch I had started yesterday. I became very absorbed in the work adding great details into the picture. I was so focused that I was startled when the door opened. Mr. Richwood entered the classroom in the middle of a conversation with someone who turned out to be Ms. May.

“Hey Amanda,” he greeted me. “I see you took me up on my offer.”

“Yeah,” was all I could say.

Ms. May smiled at me and then followed Mr. Richwood over to his desk. I pretended to be occupied with my art work, but I was trying to channel the jealousy that was overtaking me.

“I’ll e-mail you the results tomorrow,” Mr. Richwood said while he reached into his desk taking out a vanilla folder. “In the meantime, this should do you some good.”

He handed the folder to Ms. May who took it carefully.

“Thanks, you have helped more than you can imagine.”

“That’s what I like to do.”

Ms. May began to laugh to herself. I bit my lip wondering if all women were like this. Did they all throw away their pride for a men? Heather was making a fool of herself and now some of the teachers were this way as well, but the only difference was that they were far less direct about their interest in Mr. Richwood than Heather was. I thought to myself and began to worry. Was I just like them?

They spoke for about ten more minutes quickly causing my lunch period to fly by. I would have to head to study hall in five minutes. I had really wanted to spend lunch today with Mr. Richwood alone, but instead I had to sit here and listen to him talk to Ms. May. I was relieved when she waked out of the classroom and was secretly hopping that the door would hit her on her butt on the way out.

“Whatcha working on?”

Mr. Richwood asked as he took the seat behind his desk.

“Just a random picture,” I said sounding slightly relived he was talking to me.

“Can I see?”

I nodded and handed the picture over to him. He carefully took it and our hands brushed for a second in the process, sending electricity through my heart. I felt my legs get weak as he began to study the picture. I gingerly awaited his approbation.

“You draw with such passion,” he said as he studied the sketch. “This is just…outstanding. This image you drew is very interesting.”

“Thank you,” I said taking it from him as he handed it back to me.

I wondered if Mr. Richwood knew that the drawing was of Heather and me ending our friendship over him. He couldn’t possibly know. Could he?

He was silently thinking to himself. I was afraid that the silence would allow him to hear my extremely loud heart beat so I continued working on the sketch, hoping that the sound of me shading would cover up my heart beat. While drawing, I felt Mr. Richwood’s eyes land on me for a moment and I became tense as he watched me draw. I couldn’t concentrate being under his direct gaze and began to wish I hadn’t sat so close to him.

“Amanda?” He asked.

I looked up slowly giving myself time to portray a confident image.

“Yes?”

“About Heather,”

I felt my heart begin to sink. Why did he care so much about Heather? Was her little charm beginning to wear onto him? I was half expecting him to declare his love for her.

“What about her?” I asked nervously.

“Are you two…friends?”

I wasn’t sure why this was of any interest to him. Maybe Mr. Richwood had noticed that we had been hanging out with each other, but had now distanced ourselves. She had been waiting for me on the first day of school. Mr. Richwood knew I didn’t have any friends last year, therefore Heather’s sudden presence may have been denoted by him. However, I wasn’t even sure if we still friends anymore.

“Not really,” I answered.

“I was just curious,” he said now looking at something that was behind me. “It’s a weird combination. You two appear to be the exact opposite of one another.”

I glanced at the clock and realized I had to head to study hall to avoid being marked tardy. I gathered my things together and thanked Mr. Richwood.

“Alright, have a great day.” he said as I made my way out of his class.

______

At the end of the school day, I went to my locker and just as I opened it a hand pressed against it closing it. I turned to find the person responsible for it was Ashley. Lydia walked around to occupy the other side of me. I didn’t understand why they were here or what it was that they wanted.

“Why did you-”

“Hush!” ordered Lydia who was twirling one of her pony tails around with her fingers while she chewed a thick blab of gum. “You think you’re so clever, huh?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh don’t play innocent,” said Ashley. “Heather told us she signed up for the Art Club and we went there earlier this morning to sign up too and guess what we saw.”

It was Lydia who answered for her.

“Someone scratched Heather’s name off and the most recent name on the list was your name… Amanda Scarfield. You think you’re clever, huh?”

“You better not try something like that again,” ordered Ashley. “We rewrote her name and your name is now off the list and it’s full. Good luck trying to join now Miss Smarty pants.”

Lydia and Ashley then walked away from me causing a few students walking by to stare at me. I couldn’t believe this. Lydia and Ashley weren’t interested in Art no more than Heather was. I was convinced that half the people joining the Art Club were only in it to get closer toward Mr. Richwood!