SAVANTS
Chapture 3's

I continued to adapt in school over the next few days, gradually filling in the blank sections on my map and learning how to complete them.

After I finished the job, I found that I could overcome my embarrassment, even if some teaching styles were unknown. It was much more formal than in England - there was no first name for the students, we were all sitting in rows of individuals rather than pairs - but I thought I had adjusted. So, lulled with a false sense of security, I wasn't prepared for the rude shock of my first sports lesson.

Mrs Green, our wicked gym teacher, surprised the girls on Wednesday morning. There should have been a law prohibiting teachers from doing that so we at least had time to get sick letters.

"Miss, as you know, we lost six of our best cheerleaders, so I'm looking for a new member." Mrs Green said, I'm not the only one who looks disappointed.

"Now. Our team needs your support. We can't make Aspen High dance, outperform us, can we"

Yes we can, I shouted quietly in my heart.

He pressed the remote control and Taylor Swift's 'You're mine' started to sound through the loudspeakers.

"Sheena, you know what to do. Show the other girls the steps for the first order." Said Mrs Green.

A skinny girl with honey blonde hair jumped gracefully like a gazelle forward and started what seemed to me to be a very difficult routine.

"Look, it's simple" said Mrs Green. "Make a line, all of you."

I'm shuffling backwards. "You're there-the new girl. I can't see you. Forward forward."

Okay, I'm not entirely desperate. In fact, I managed to do an estimate of Sheena's movements.

"Now we're going to step it up" Mrs Green announced. At least someone is enjoying themselves. "Get the pompom out!"

Not likely. I'm not gonna wear that ridiculous thing. Mrs Green glanced over the shoulder, I could see some of the boys from my class, already back from their run, spying on us through the window of the gym building.

Mrs Green said that we have an audience. As smooth as a Ninja, he walks towards the boys before they know what hit them and drags them in.

We believe in equal opportunities at Wrickenridge High.' Excitedly, he thrust out the pompoms in their hands. "Line, kids." He said after dragging the men.

Now was our chance to laugh when the red-faced man was forced to join. Mrs Green stood in front of assessing our capabilities - or lack thereof.

"Hmm, not enough, not enough. I think we need to practice some throws, Neil" he picked a broad-shouldered boy with a shaved head, "you were in the squad last year, right? You know what to do"

Throwing sounds OK. Cutting a pompom is better than dancing while shaking the pompom.

Mrs Green patted the shoulders of three more men. 'Gentlemen, I want the four of you to come forward. Make a stand with your arms" Then the fourth do what Mrs Green commands.

"yes, that's all. Now, we need the smallest girl for this."

No, not at all. I shuffled behind Tina, who faithfully tried to look twice her normal size.

"Where did he go? that little English girl? He was here a while ago." Said Mrs Green.

Sheena ruined my plan to hide. "He's behind Tina, Mom."

"Come, baby. Now, this is pretty simple. Sit with your hands crossed and they will throw you in the air and catch you again. Tina and Sheena, bring the mat here, just in case." My eyes must be like plates, because Madame Green patted me on the cheek slowly. "Don't worry, you don't have to do anything but aim your hands and feet and try to look like you're enjoying yourself."

I looked at the boys in disbelief, they looked at me closely, perhaps for the first time, estimating how much I weighed. Then Neil shrugged, made up his mind. "Yes, we can do this."

"On the count of three!' shouted the teacher.

They lifted me up and the count of three I was already in the air. My screams may sound like a school. That of course makes basketball coaches and other boys run with concerns that someone is injured.

•••

Still in shock, I sat down for lunch with Tina, barely eating anything. My stomach hasn't returned to the ground.

They flew me a little high on that throw. Tina flicked my arm to stop my blank stare.

"Gosh" Shocked me.

"You make a lot of noise for people as small as you" he said with a grin.

"So too if a sadistic teacher decides to torture you."

Tina shook her head. "It doesn't matter to me - I'm too big." He thinks it's funny, traitor.

"So, Sky, what are you gonna do with the rest of your break?"

I took the welcome package flyer and put it between us. "I thought I was going to music practice. You want to come too?" Ask me.

He shook with a wry laugh. "Sorry, you're on your own. If I go there, they won't let me into the music room. The glass broke when I saw me coming with my mouth open. Btw what are you playing?"

"The details, dear, the details" He gestured with his finger.

"Piano, guitar, and saxophone."

"Pak Keneally will die of joy when he hears this. BBand in one woman! Are you singing?"

I shook my head.

"Whoops! I think I should hate you for being so talented." He shifted his tramp. "Ruwng music through here.I'll show you."

I've seen pictures on the school's website but the musical equipment is much better than I expected.

The main classroom has a cool shiny black grand. The students were milling around as I walked in, some were strumming their guitars, some girls were practicing the scales with flutes.

A tall, dark-haired boy with John Lennon glasses was replacing the reed in his clarinet, his expression solemn. I was looking for an inconspicuous seat.

Then when I wanted to sit near the girl who was playing her cell phone, her friend arrived.

"I'm sorry, but I've already got this chair" said the girl.

"Ah Right. Sorry"

I perched alone on the edge of the table and waited, avoiding anyone's gaze.

"Hey, you're Sky, right?" A boy with a shaved head and mature tan skin.

"Eh... Ja. You know me?"

"Yes. I'm Nelson. You met my grandmother. He told me to take care of you. Did everyone treat you well?"

Okay-so she's not at all like Mrs Hoffman. "Yes, everyone is so friendly."

He grinned at my accent and sat down beside me, putting his feet on the chair in front. "remarkable. I thought you'd have trouble adjusting."

I needed to hear it because I was hesitant. I decided, I trust Nelson.

The door slammed and opened. Come in Mr. Keneally, a burly man with gingerbread Celt hair. He scribbled his notebook 'Master Music' A Sign for all the disharmony.

"Gentlemen and Miss," he began speaking without stopping his steps. "Christmas is coming at an alarming pace, and we have a big concert program to be scheduled. So you can all hope to let those little lights shine." I could hear his signature tone now: lots of drumming and tension, sort of an improved '1812' opening version.

"The orchestra starts on Wednesday. Jazz music group Friday. All the budding rock stars, if you want to book a music room for your own band rehearsal, meet me first"' He threw away the papers. "Except maybe you." The music master has brought his X-ray vision to me.

I hate being new.

"I'm catching up fast, sir." Answer me.

"good. Name?"

"Sky Bright sir"

I received ordinary giggles from those who had never met me before.

Mr. Keneally frowned at me. "What are you playing, Miss Bright?"

"Little piano. Oh, and tenor guitars and saxophones too"

Mr. Keneally swung his legs, reminding me of a diver who was about to jump.

"Is 'a little' some English code to be really good?" Ask her.

"Nr ..." I was confused as to what to answer.

"Jazz, classic, or rock?"

"Eh .. jazz, I guess." I am happy with my choice.

"Jazz, you think? You don't sound very sure, Miss Bright. Music does not take away or leave, music is life or death!" His word.

His little speech was interrupted by the late arrival of the person. The Hispanic biker breezed into the room, his hands stuffed into pockets, his long legs gnawing on the floor as he walked to the window sill to lean against the side wall of the clarinet player.

It took me a while to forget the shock that the biker was actually participating in the school activities.

I imagine him on top of all that. Or maybe he just came to make fun of us? He was leaning by the window, his ankles were crossed negligently, an amused expression on his face as if he had heard all before and did not care.