Darkness of Light (6 page)

“Welcome Mr. Hill, Ember. Please have a seat.” She motioned towards the chairs. I almost laughed at how quickly Mark did as he was told. She had that kind of authority, which adults, kids, and probably animals, obeyed. I liked her right away. I didn’t get the vibe she was a bitch; she just didn’t put up with any crap. Tough but fair. 

“Thank you for staying late and seeing us on such short notice,” Mark said.

“No problem, I practically live here, and I know you must feel anxious and have a lot of questions before tomorrow.” She settled into a chair behind her desk. “So, Principal Mitchell has basically given me the rundown. In my honest opinion, I think it is a bunch of bull-honky; but he is settled on it, so there you go.” 

Besides my friends making me laugh earlier, this was the first genuine smile that came to my lips since this whole debacle began. Thank goodness someone else could see through the bullshit. 

Mark seemed relieved as well. “That was a nice way of putting it. I wasn’t so nice.” 

“Yes, well, I thought it would be improper to say what I really feel.” A slight smile formed on her lips, but it quickly dropped and her face went back to her stern look. “We can’t change their minds, so we must deal with the situation at hand.” She opened a file and handed Mark and me some literature about the place. “We offer many different options here at Silverwood. We try to accommodate as many unique situations as there are unique people here. 

“You will be here Monday through Friday, eight to four. There are no exceptions to this. You check in and check out with a faculty member. That is our rule. We run a tight ship around here. We have to.” Her face softened a little. I think she knew I didn’t belong here. 

“That doesn’t mean you won’t have fun at Silverwood. We have a lot of activities. You’ll have classes from eight until noon, lunch from twelve to twelve-thirty, group counseling and individual counseling from twelve-thirty until two, then outdoor exercises and activities from two until four. We understand most of the kids who end up here don’t learn the typical way, so we don’t run our school program like ordinary schools. We do a lot of outside classes and projects, and we try to make the students know they belong and matter. 

“There are a lot of reasons why kids are in here. We run the gamut. A few simply come once a week to talk to one of our counselors. We have many who can no longer remain at home and live here permanently. Also there are kids who have committed crimes or struggle with drug or alcohol abuse problems. All ages and types. I don’t feel we have any bad kids, just misunderstood and mistreated ones.” 

I nodded in understanding.

She took us for a quick tour around the facility so I could get my bearings. The main room where I’d be was large, bright, and open. Glass windows lined the entire west side from top to bottom of the building, making use of the natural light. Through the windows I could make out some picnic tables and a basketball court that broke the line of the forest outside. Turning back to the room, I noticed there were no individual desks but instead there were long tables. Behind the tables, dozens of bookshelves sat in rows like a library. In the far end of the room were four high-topped counters lined with microscopes and other science equipment. Maps of every country hung on the walls around the room. It was not a classroom, but a learning center.

Mrs. Sanchez walked us out to the parking lot and shook my hand. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Ember. I think you will be happy here.” 

I wasn’t sure how I felt about all of this, but at least she made me feel more comfortable in attending Silverwood. No matter what, the choice of me being here was no longer in my hands. 

Nine

Wednesday was my first official day at Silverwood. Mark drove me to school so he was sure I had at least made it to the parking lot.

I looked out the truck’s window at the facility. “Okay, I changed my mind. I don’t care how long it takes, I’ll get my GED, or maybe do school online.” 

“Having a little
déjà vu
from the ghost of school-time past? You go through this every time you start a new school.” Mark shook his head as we slowed to a stop in front. “You’ll be fine. You’re strong, Em. You won’t let something get the better of you. You have too much of your mother in you.”

“Wow, hello manipulator.” 

Mark chuckled. “Guilty, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Have I told you lately that you are a cruel, cruel man?”

“Yeah, this morning when I tried to wake you up.” Mark had to get me up extra early so he could get to Silverwood and still be to work on time. I would get to school early, but I didn’t mind. I wanted to get situated before the other kids showed up.

“Right.” I nodded, then leaned over and kissed Mark’s cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Now go prove Sheriff Weiss and Principal Mitchell wrong.” He pointed towards the school. “Remember I can’t leave work till four-thirty. I have a meeting, but I’ll come straight after.”

“No worries. I’ll start on my homework or something.” I opened the truck door and slid out. “See you later.” 

Mark waved and took off. I turned back to the front of the building, sucked in a deep breath, and slowly headed for the entrance. 

As I reached the door, a motorcycle tore into the parking lot, making me jump. I whipped around and caught a glimpse of a guy in worn, blue jeans, a black leather jacket, and scuffed boots. He passed too fast for me to see anything more, but something in my stomach twisted. I was a bundle of nerves anyway, so I ignored it and continued inside. 

I checked in with Mrs. Holt, who gave me a rundown of how my classes worked. It reminded me a little of elementary school, since all the students were in one class and never changed rooms. Except here there was no main teacher. We were on our own and worked on our subjects at our own level. Responsibility for yourself was something they wanted you to learn. Several teachers and tutors went around working with each student and focused on their trouble areas. 

Mrs. Holt walked me over to the main classroom. “I’ll introduce you to Mr. Kemp.”

I was confused when she walked up to a person whom I thought was just another fellow student studying.

“Mr. Kemp?” Mrs. Holt tapped on the young man’s shoulder. When he turned around, I saw why I had been mistaken. He had to be only in his early thirties, dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and chucks. He was shorter than me, slim, with short, curly, dark brown hair, and brown eyes. He had a happy, open face. He was nothing like any teacher I ever had. 

“Mr. Kemp, this is Ember Brycin, and it’s her first day here.”

“Oh yes, Ember. Mrs. Sanchez told me about you. Welcome.” He shook my hand, looking at my eyes curiously. Mrs. Holt nodded at both of us and slipped out of the room. “And please call me Tim. We like to keep it on an even and personal level here.”

“Thank you,” I replied. He kept looking at my eyes. “It’s okay. I know my eyes are strange.” 

“They are very unusual.” His cheeks shaded slightly at getting caught staring at me so blatantly. 

“Well, they match my personality.”

Tim grinned and motioned to a chair. “Have a seat. Your last school sent over your files so we know what classes you were taking. Today we need to figure out your learning style and the best and most productive lesson plan for you.” He folded his hands on top the table. “I know everyone hates being the new person, so we’ll try to get you past that. We are big on everyone being on an equal level in here. No one’s better than anybody else.” 

He got out of the chair, heading to the back of the room to retrieve the paperwork. I was left alone to watch the students trickle in. At eight o’clock, eighteen students of various ages filled the seats. My hair and eyes invited stares, but I tried not to feel intimidated. Some of the kids had the street-tough “I can cut you” thing about them, and I had no doubt they could. There were a few who had the classic, druggie look—overly skinny, stringy hair, dark sunken eyes, who couldn’t sit still in their seat and who bit their nails down to the nub. Three of the students had the all-black, gothic emo-look, and another four were pretty average looking. Although I know looks could be deceiving.

There were no bells or anything telling me when class started or ended. But, at noon, students stopped what they were working on, packed up, and headed out. I looked around, not sure what to do, but after several more people left I followed suit. I put in my iPod and headed for the cafeteria. Being alone never bothered me, and I think that’s what made people at my old high school uncomfortable. Okay, it was one of many things that made them uncomfortable. I could happily sit by myself and draw, but the average teenager didn’t seem to understand that about me. It made me a target at school. I got a lot of things thrown at me and was whispered about behind my back. The fact that it didn’t bother me only made them more uneasy about me. 

I sat down at one of the round tables dotting the lunchroom. The lunchroom was on the same west side as the main study room. Similar glass walls dominated the one side, letting in the hazy sunshine. 

I was pulling out my lunch when a girl standing in the lunch line near me picked up a plastic fork and sprang on the goth-looking guy in front of her. I jumped back as they both crashed to the ground, sliding into my table, in a jumble of arms and limbs. 

“What the hell you starin’ at you stupid freak?” the short, but curvy Latino girl bellowed. She held the plastic fork at the guy’s throat.

“Certainly not you, bitch,” goth-boy hissed back at her as he tried to break the fork in her hand. Instantly, the security guards, who walked around the school making sure people didn’t do shit like this, pounced on the two and tore them a part. They spat violent threats at each other as the guards dragged them off in opposite directions.

Wow! Okay . . . 

“She does that all the time. You’ll get used to it.” 

I looked to my left to see who had spoken. A tall, lanky boy, who couldn’t have been older than sixteen, smiled at me. He had sandy-blonde hair with puppy dog, hazel eyes. His skin was smacked by puberty. He had a sweet, boy-next-door face and ah-shucks smile, which immediately made you feel protective of him, the way you’d be protective of a younger brother. 

“Just keep your eyes down when you’re around her and you should be okay,” he said. “She thinks every look in her direction is about her, like everyone is out to get her or something.”

“Good to know, thanks.”

“I’m Josh. I’m in morning study with you.”

“Ember,” I replied. “I remember you. You were sitting over by the window.”

“I was.” His smile widened.

“You stood out because you were one of the few who didn’t look like they wanted to kill me,” I added.

Josh laughed. “Don’t let my charming looks fool you. I am terrifying. Okay, so maybe that’s only in the World of Warcraft. But there I am feared.” He looked away blushing. “I just proved I’m a dork.”

“Don’t worry. I’m one too.” I smiled.

“Probably not something that impresses the ladies though, huh? The counselors are trying to get me to cut back on my gaming hours. They think I’m trying to escape reality into a world of make believe where magic—elves, trolls, orcs, and druids—exist. Now I’ve officially said too much.”

“That’s okay,” I said laughing. “Have a seat.” I motioned to the empty seating around me.

“Thanks,” he responded, planting himself on a bench. “So what’s your schedule for the rest of the day?”

“After lunch I get my head probed, then there is some outdoor thing—not sure what it is.”

“Cool, we’re on the same schedule.” His smile got even bigger, which I didn’t think was possible. “The outdoor thing is called O.A.R., Outdoor Adventure Rehabilitation.”

“Exploring therapy. Great.” I said dryly. 

“No, that’s the probing.” He snickered as he pulled out a sandwich. 

“We are talking about mental probes here, right?”

He grinned at me, stuffing the sandwich in his mouth. “Sure.” 

After lunch Josh and I headed to our therapy session. We started in group therapy, then after about an hour, we went into individual therapy. Dawn, my assigned counselor, sat across me for thirty minutes, thinking we were already progressing well with my treatment. I forced my lips into a smile, and not a smirk. I was good at fooling people now. I had learned early on how to talk without really admitting or saying anything. I got used to hiding the strange things I had seen or had happened to me. Finally, the time was up, and Josh and I walked out towards the O.A.R. meeting spot. 

“So what do we do in these outdoor activities anyway?”

“Well, it varies. Last fall we helped landscape a retirement home close by, and we sometimes played ‘Capture the flag.’ It’s all about team building and boosting our self-confidence. They also like us doing a lot of volunteer work—helping out the community, stuff like that. It’s pretty cool. The couple who ran it before decided to move to Arizona to be with their family. I’m not sure who will be in charge now.” 

Josh and I reached the designated spot, and despite the freezing temperature and misty rain, it was a beautiful site. It was a clearing in the woods with log benches circling a deep fire pit and a stage that sat not too far off to the side. There were more log benches lined up in front of the stage, probably used for the summer and weekend camp programs. 

By two o’ clock, there were about fifteen of us waiting. I was looking around at everyone, wondering what they did to get here, when my skin started to tingle. A shiver rushed up my spine. 

Someone moved in close behind me, trying to get through the throng of people. A burst of heat encompassed me, enticing any part of my exposed skin. It felt like heaven. I leaned back, longing to soak in more of the warmth. My neck craned as I looked for the source of the heat. 

My heart stopped and my blood flushed cold as my eyes clasped onto the towering figure moving around me. I knew that form. It was not one you’d forget. His toned body couldn’t hide underneath his baggy jeans, loose navy blue pullover hoodie, and a black beat-up leather jacket.