Life

Part One: Summer Session
CHAPTER I
AMBER
Walking up to the school, I felt a rush of excitement. Sure, we were at a smart-kid summer school. Sure, it was stupid and dress code applied. Sure, school was eating into my summer, but there was a chance that John would be there and that was enough for me.
I climbed the stairs onto the second story, and glanced at the growing group of people. Lets see, Caleb was there and Joe was there and there wasn't really anyone else I cared for. Bummer.
"Amber!" Caleb greeted me. Even though his name is Caleb, we really called him Kyuuzo more. Joe walked up and we griped about being at the school, and being awake at this hour. Finally, Nicki approached. While the four of us chatted, I felt sort of disconnected. My mind wasn't talking about Nicki's eyebrow piercing; it was with John. Would he be here? Suddenly, Ben arrived. Ben was John's best friend— blood wouldn't make them closer. If John were going to be here, he'd be with Ben. Dammit, now I wouldn't see his reaction to me until the beginning of real school. I hadn't seen him since the last day of middle school and I didn't know what he thought of me since the Note. The Note was a letter I gave him on the last day of school proclaiming my love for him and that I no longer cared if he didn't love me back and that I had loved him since sixth grade. If it isn't obvious, I'm a hopeless romantic.
Ben studied me for a second after I said 'Hi' to him, gave me an unreadable look, and returned the greeting. I went back to the conversation "we" were having, and continued letting my mind drift to John. Suddenly, Ms. Jones bustled out of her classroom, with more enthusiasm than the early hour could reasonably afford.
"Welcome, class!" She said as we shuffled into the lecture hall, barely forcing ourselves to lift our tired feet. "Find yourselves a seat, now! — The best ones are up front!" groaning, my John-may-be-here high washed away, I took a seat up front, next to Kyuuzo, and relatively close to Nicki. Ben positioned himself behind me.
"Oh, what wonderful shining faces I see before me!" She said while I studied her walls. You can tell a lot about a teacher by how he or she decorates their classroom. Three flags hung boldly on the wall next to me. One was red, one maroon, and one a royal blue. Adorning the red flag was a unicorn, rearing gallantly with a mane that flew in every direction. Next to it, the blue one hung with a boldly armored knight astride a princely steed, and in grand maroon a gryphon glared in brilliant, aching fury from his velvet perch above the room. He was my favorite. Across the lecture hall, another such flag was posted beside the closet door. This was of a more midnight blue and was the land of a large and mighty citadel, enveloped in a few, wispy clouds. Each flag was edged in the color of the flag before it. The silently staring flags told me that Ms. Jones had her own way of doing and seeing things and her own list of stuff she liked. She had found herself long ago and didn't particularly care if people thought ill of her. On the bookshelf beside me was a little green jar with a powdery substance, it was marked "ASHES OF PROBLEM STUDENTS." She obviously had a sense of humor. What a blessing.
Half-listening to the lecture, the class chugged along rather quickly and we received our complementary binders and were allowed to chat while we set them up. As Caleb's and my conversation ended and our table of two drifted into silence, Ben quietly asked, "Amber, what's going on between you and John?" I blushed and looked away. Not having enough time to think of a sardonic reply, and being caught extremely off guard, I blurted out the truth, "I have no idea. Ask John." My heart was in my throat. Had John shown him the note? He had guarded it so heavily the day I gave it to him — he walked away from Ben and Joe to read it, and when Ben approached he either stood him off or stepped a few paces back. I was getting hysterical, dizzy. No. Gather myself. There were a few things I could learn from this. Ben wouldn't have been told unless it was important to John. Nor would he have acted on simple curiosity; John must have been talking to him. John talking to him means John cares. Now, I could get giddy. But why was Ben asking me? What goes on between John and me was entirely up to John now. He knows my feelings; he has to act on his. When it came to "John and I", I've always had the sense that Ben knew something I didn't, and he was trying his best to drop hints for me. Like at one of our orchestra concerts (Ben plays cello, too), he kept making comments about John and me. Not "John. And. Me.", but of us being together, in the largest sense that could be given to middle-schoolers. But was he waiting? Did he want to wait until high school when we could actually date?
While my mind swam, I also ran across another thought — Ben could gather just as many things from my response as I could from his question. It's not a matter of what I said; it's how I reacted that gave me away. Why'd I have to blush?

BEN
I was a little confused as my dad dropped me off at the loop. Where was I supposed to be? I glanced around a second before I realized that there were signs that would lead me to exactly where I wanted to go. Not that I wanted to go, but I had to go, so I might as well get it over with. As I wandered, I thought to myself. Would Amber be there? If she wasn't, John would have to talk to her in the second session of Summer School for the Smarties, and I don't know how easy that would be. If she was here, then I could just act curious. I couldn't drop hints, though, because John told me not to and we're practically brothers. Mrs. Martelli showed me where my class was and I headed off toward the high school building.
As I walked up the stairs to get to the second floor I noticed her — Amber was here. This was best I muttered to myself, the deed is mine. She gave me a cheerful "Hello" and I studied her up and down. This was the girl John had been pining over for the past month. I returned her welcome and joined the conversation; we were telling jokes, but I could tell that Amber wasn't all here— the laugh didn't touch her eyes. Finally, Ms. Jones came out and invited everyone inside, with too much energy for 8:00 in the morning.
Class went by slowly until we got to put together our binders. Now was my only chance if I wanted to talk to her. I waited for her conversation with Caleb to dwindle to nothing, and then struck. "Amber," I didn't pause for a reply, "what's going on between you and John?" Her slightly sunburned face turned a little redder and she looked away, eyes wide. Good, I should get the truth from her. After composing herself enough to speak, she uttered the words, "I have no idea. Ask John," but in her eyes I saw wonder, shock, and some undecipherable look that I've only seen in her eyes, and only since John came in sixth grade. In her eyes, I saw her panic and the questions running through her mind. In her answer, I heard mostly what I expected to hear and I knew I would have to somehow prove to her that she could trust me. I had to let her know that John did.


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