23 May '14
My name is Jessamine “Sam” Sinclaire, I live in Detroit, and the city is having a bounce back from the financial turmoil of previous years. I’m currently going to community college, and today, I’m going to my old elementary school for a a secretary job.
I had been helping them move boxes and books during the summer and at the ice cream social, the principal and the previous secretary had asked if I wanted a job. Today, I was going to come in for the interview and hopefully in a few days I’d have a job.
I had graduated highschool, and was currently just was between jobs. Small weekend things, helping people move, clean gutters, yard work, babysit— temporary things.
There was alot to do around the city, Downtown was lively all summer with art fairs and exhibitions. We would go to see something fun or volunteer for it. Summer was ending.
"You left your blazer at home, Jules." the text read. "Mom says call her back when you get out."
I looked at my purple and mauve plad pants. They were dress pants, a crisp crease down the center, no wrinkles and went nice with the button up silk blouse I wore. Instead of the yellow twead blazer my mother had wanted me to wear, I wore a thin black hoodie that had skulls running up my left hip to the collar.
I cradled the can of Arizona between my hands, waiting for something. Little kids were looking at me, and one twelve year old ran up to me.
"Are you Miss Attwater?"
"Eh?" I blanked.
"Attwater. We were told the Mrs. Simons was going to be on leave because of the baby." the girl were one.
I paused and looked at my bag, shoes, then the pants. Did I look like a trendy substitute teacher?
"Um, nope." I grinned. "I’m trying out for the secretary position."
The girl nodded. “Everyone thought you were. You look so young and secretaries are eithr, really old or really sexy with those tight miniskirts.”
I stared at the girl, smirking. “You watch too much television.” I sipped my drink again, smiling and a little less nervous. “Do substitute teachers follow this rule?”
"They’re either super nice or super mean. Looks don’t follow the rules." The girl turned back to her class who were waiting anxiously. "She’s not Attwater!"
They all looked disappointed, some of their reactions were comical. I sighed and finished off my drink. “I’ll see you guys around.” I waved and went to go inside. They had said to come in any time, and here I was lolly-gagging outside, biding my time.
"Maybe I should have worn the white sweater." I mumbled, waiting to be buzzed in. "I should have taken some of the apple fritters… or maybe the pack of celery…. Celery and peanut butter. That sounds yummy."
I pulled open the door, someone pushed and we made eye contact. A teenage guy wasn’t looking where he was going and his shoulder slammed into me. My heels slipped from under me, my hands clammered to grab onto the door handles. I missed and was suddenly seeing stars.
"Brandon! holy shit!" someone’s voice jarred into my head.
"Dun touch me." I said, eyes shut tight. The world was spinning, so I put two and two together. I had hit my head either on the red brick wall, or the tiled flooring.
"Why don’t you watch where you’re going Brandon!" Someone’s hand was cradling my head, and I stared into brown-yellow eyes. "Don’t fall asleep."
"No shit Sherlock." I growled back. Time was lost on me, and I swear children were teleporting out of nowhere.
The secretary was kneeling beside me, asking if I was alright.
"Just slipped on my heels… should have worn flats." I pulled myself up slowly, and touched the back of my head. No blood, awesome.
"Maybe we should call an ambulance." the teen who had bumped into me looked thoroughly sorry. "You could have a concussion."
"I’ve taken bigger falls off of the playground equipment." I said, nonchalantly. I dusted myself off and stood up. I was a little dizzy, but nothing a sit and some ice couldn’t cure.
"Your head bounced off the floor!" a small voice at arm’s length said. I turned to see the girl from before. She guided me to the sitting area for visitors.
I closed my eyes and gnawed on my lip. “Ice.”
"I have some tylenol in my purse." said a mother who was near by, her young twins asking if I would die. They both had some lovely braids and hair bows in their dark hair.
"No thankyou." I said, brow furrowed.
The girl and the boy looked upset. “I-I got some midol my mom gave me for cramps—”
"You aren’t supposed to give a person with head injuries pain meds. It could cause me to bleed out and die, if I am bleeding or bruised in places." I said firmly. "Just…. Ice water, okay, sweetheart?"
I opened my eyes to see the older man looking hard at me. The trio were related, the oldest had his hands out.
"I’m a doctor." he said, "May I?"
I had no problem with the girl, or the mom touching me and helping me sit. But the thought of this guy, suddenly had my insides running cold.
I shook my head. Brandon and the girl (I heard Lacey somewhere), bring me a cup of water and a small baggy of ice. I drank all the water, then held the ice to my head.
"I’m really sorry." Brandon, a tall lanky, teen looked at me. He wore a sport’s jacket with a shark on the breast.
"I’m fine." I shrugged. "…Swim team?"
"Wasn’t aware the school had a pool now." my thoughts were becoming more lucid. The school didn’t have a pool. "If you’ll excuse me…" I stood up and began walking to the office. "I have an interview."
Apparently, my lucidity was questionable because I wasn’t in the office. I was in the bathroom. Either or, it was a good place to sit. And at the moment, I really needed to pee.
When I moved my hand from my head, I stared at my fingers. Scaly digits with curved black nails.
"Not now." i groaned, staring at my shifting hands. It wasn’t until the last few years that my metahuman abilities had flourished. Puberty was hell, but I had complete control over my shapeshifting. The only flaw was when I got hurt and my body tried to repair itself. The knock to the head had scrambled my thoughts and now my hands looked like a set of harpy eagle claws.
"Not now!" I shouted, forlorned and dizzy. I concentrated, visualize my own hands. Pink nail polish, ten digits, brown skin, pink palms. I looked at the mirror, and luckily my face and head was unaffected. After what felt like an eternity, my hands were back to normal. My head was feeling better, down to a dull ache at the back of my head.
Stepping out of the bathroom, the Brandon kid and his sister Lacey were watching me. The principal, Mrs. Vaugn looked up from talking with their eldest brother.
"Mr. Malinda tells me how you took a spill earlier." she said carefully, gently grasping my elbow. "Are you alright? Did you throw up? Do you require any medication?"
My old principal was slightly taller than me, and all her questions had me thinking of her more as a parent then an ex-teacher.
"I’m fine." I smiled at them, "I did not throw up, just had a lot of juice. I don’t need any thing." I blinked a few more times. "I’m… going to head home."
"What about the job? Are you still interested?" she asked, hopeful.
I nodded. “Could we do the interview tomorrow? My head is still spinning.” The look of relief on everyone’s face made me giggle. I turned to the teens and their brother, “It was nice meeting you.”
I swayed a bit and frowned. Without much thought, I grasped on wo was closest and pulled off my heels. I slipped them into my bag and pulled out a pair of flipflops. My pink pedicure matched my manicure.
I looked up to find brown eyes looking back at me and my insides running cold again. I had been holding onto Mr. Malinda’s lapel, slightly wrinkling his suit.
"Sherlock." he said, amusement in his eyes. I immediately let go and pulled my hands to myself.
"Excuse me?" I gnawed at my lower lip. Then I remember how I behaved earlier. "Shii—oot."
"Glad to see there’s no memory loss." he nodded, smoothing out his clothing. "It was a pleasure meeting you."
"The pleasure is all mine." I said, quickly walking away. My face burned with embarrassment. He was handsome, well dressed, and my first meeting with a group of students and their family was smashing my head on the ground and swearing.
My name is Jessamine “Sam” Sinclaire, I live in Detroit, and the city is having a bounce back from the financial turmoil of previous years. I’m currently going to community college, and today, I went to my old elementary school today, and completely messed up the interview. I smacked my brains on the concrete, and flirted with a guy that gave me mixed feelings deep in my gut.
I looked at my hands. They were scaly and clawed. “Goddamnit.”