Santa Pyre: The Burning Solaris

2. High School

Monday, September 8th, 2043.

Four days later saw Sammy and I getting out of Samantha's red car onto the corner of a cross junction of a sidewalk in Fire Flats Suburbs, in the southeast of the country.

"Be good and have a great first day of school you two!" she said before speeding away, tires squealing.

"Well, she was in a hurry," I remarked.

"Yes, to get rid of us of course!" added Sammy. "She does have a date with her boyfriend about now. Today is the last day of summer, after all."

We snickered before turning to each other. Our uniforms were quite simple: white short sleeves, navy blue trousers, and a black and white striped tie. Not a bold fashion statement, but at least we did not look hideous like the Southern Mountains High School's uniforms. They wore a polka dot disaster! Anyway, we also had these neat badges: a flame shape with the letters "F-F-H-S" carved into it. They were made of bronze.

"Well, since we are here, we might as well get this over with," I said. Sammy nodded. "Let's go."

We turned northwards from the corner of the cross junction and began walking. Up ahead, over a wide open, grey school gate, was a large sign that read "Welcome to Fire Flats High School. #1 in the South!"

"Wow. I feel very welcomed," said Sammy dryly. I stifled a small chuckle.

Ahead of us were a few other kids close to our age. Today was Orientation, as evidenced by the multitude of eighth grade hopefuls chatting about within the front square. OK, I know what I said, but there were easily ninety students before my very eyes. On the other side across from us was a long building divided into five rooms. I could not really tell what they were from where I was standing. Looking to the left, I saw a big pond with a mini pier. Perhaps the school had a fishing club or something so that interested students could learn to fish there.

"Hey, Bill. Check out that basketball court over there!" exclaimed Sammy excitedly, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I turned to the right in the direction he was enthusiastically pointing out. It was not hard to spot past the crowd of kids. Deciding to have a laugh, I told him, "Samuel, you don't have remotely the height or skill for that."

"Awww! Why you gotta be such a downer! I can learn, and my growth spurt isn't so far off any more!" he defended. I slapped him playfully on the back.

"You know I'm just jostling you, man. By all means, follow your heart and dreams."

At that, he just laughed. "Always the philosophical one, aren't you, Bill?"

I groaned. "You know it." And just then, a loud buzzing sound rang out through the compound, announcing the end of what little freedom we had left. "And there goes our summer..."

"He was a good friend," added Sam.

"I miss him already!" added a familiar voice as Sammy and I began walking to join the converging crowd of students.

"Joe!" I exclaimed as he appeared at my left. Joseph Hartman was my other friend from the old days. He was from the suburb of East Sun City, in the northern southeast of the country near the Capital. It was a good forty minute drive away from Fire Flats. He had been a part of some of our adventures in elementary school. "How have you been? How was your summer?"

"Great, really," replied Joe. "It was wonderful. I got to spend some time at the Vermillion Lake resort!"

"Impressive," I complimented. I had never been to the Verdant Mountains before, never mind the lake or the resort. I had heard, however, that on some nights, the water of the lake would glow an ominous green and rise to a therapeutic temperature of 55 degrees Celsius.

"Hey! You three! Pay attention!" shouted a sudden commanding voice, breaking me out of my thoughts. I looked to see a woman of stout build from who just radiated authority. For sure, she was the principal, and not someone to mess with.

"Yes Ma'am," we spoke up in unison. To my immense surprise, her annoyed scowl, which had the entire venue so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop, softened into a beautiful smile which seemed to be even more intimidating than the scowl.

Holy cow, I thought.

"Thank you for your kind cooperation." It may have been a trick of the wind, but it seemed to me that every word was a little forced. Perhaps she was on to us. She did a little bow. "Hello, new comers. I am Mrs. Florence, the Vice Principal." Alright, so I was wrong. "I would like to formally welcome you all to Fire Flats High School!"

She was not using the microphone on the podium, but her powerful voice was loud and clear. "We are a proud institution founded on the fanning of the flames of excellence that burns within the hearts of our students. I hope to work with you embers, and that you will work with my roaring infernos to shine brighter than the sun! Now, meet your instructors!"

From the left of the building came seven male teachers, all spick and span. Seven females came out from the second room on my right, which happened to be the Teacher's lounge. Three were pretty, three were beautiful, and one was just drop dead gorgeous. That one had a good percentage of the boys whooping and wolf whistling.

She giggled and waved. "Thank you, thank you!" Approximately 43 sets of hands waved back to her. Even some of the girls were affected, the ones that were not jealous, anyway.

"It looks like you are their favorite!" commented Mrs. Florence to her. "Would you like to start?"

"We should save the best for last," went the reply, causing many of the other teachers to roll their eyes. But even her voice was beautiful, like an angel's or some Greek Goddess'. Whoops.

"Oh, alright. I got'cha!" It was like a glass was shattered in my mind. I did not think that the Vice Principal would have had a casual side. But, the memory of that scowl would never allow me to think less of a woman built like a tank.

"Ze men will start," said the man at the start of the line closest to my left of Mrs. Florence, his voice of a playful French Canadian. Turning back to us without so much as a go-ahead, he began, "Je m'appelle Monsieur Lapaul. I am a teacher of the foreign languages, Head of Department. I look forward to seeing you from ze 10th grade upwards. Merci, everyone." He ended with a curt bow. He then went to the back of the line and the next man stepped forward.

This one was more businesslike, sporting an outlandish plaid tie. "Good morning, all. I am James Crook, mathematician in training. I will be making my debut in this institution with you this year, just as fresh and new as you! I love ties." He too bowed before moving to the back.

The third man was an easygoing guy from Japan. He made rap like movements as he spoke, "Konichiwa! I'm your Info-Com-Tech Wiz, Tanaka Sakamoto!" he greeted. I chuckled at his funky greeting. "I love all things electronic and gadgetry. If you have any queries concerning a phone, tablet, PC, or laptop, then don't be a stranger! I'll be happy to help. Sayonara." He bowed and left. I liked him, honestly.

And like this, the pattern continued. Next was Frederick Lapool, the Math H.O.D. He was as boring as a Math teacher could be.

Moving on, next up was Aaron Wolfie, the Natural Science H.O.D. Now this guy was cool. He would be teaching Integrated Science for the eighth grade.

The last two were Lucas Brown, a Social Studies teacher, and Markus Brown, the Geography teacher. As you should have guessed, they were brothers. They were not identical twins, but they shared an overall nonchalant demeanor.

With that out of the way, it was the women's turn. First up was Christie Burnes, a Math teacher for grades ten and up. She was under the 'pretty' category. Next was Professor Lynn, the Physics teacher. Like Aaron and Tanaka, she was very cool. She had an uplifting, perpetual smile.

Then was the beautiful Biology teacher, Mrs. Kirkland. "HI!" she greeted loudly, startling us. Boy was she talkative! I LITERALLY saw everyone having to catch themselves from falling over due to sleep, me included. Even her colleagues, the other teachers and the Vice Principal, were not immune.

"How can anyone be so powerfully boring!?" whispered Sam as we recovered.

"My thoughts exactly," I replied conspiratorially.

We snapped our attention to the front when we saw out of the corners of our eyes the evidence of a returning scowl on Mrs. Florence's face. I then had a feeling that she would now be keeping an eye on us.

The next woman was very shy, as if she was afraid of us. "Uh... Hi... I... I'm... Miss Scotland. I teach... Chem... Chemistry. Ni-nice to... meet you." Did she believe that we would bite her or something? But, I could tell that there was something under the seams. She was very beautiful, enough so as to be a rival to the celebrity-like teacher. She possessed glossy raven colored hair to her shoulders and an envy-evocable figure that could melt ice within close proximity. I could only wonder what could have been wrong with her since she at least had looks going for her that most women would kill for.

Moving on, next up was Daisy Hollis, the Language Arts' H.O.D She spoke clearly in near perfect Standard English with a slight UK accent. Unlike most people, I did not dislike English as a subject, so I did not believe that I would have any problems with her. Would you believe me if I told you that, regardless of my chosen speech patterns, shortcut words and minimal slang, I have never failed an English test even once?

After her was an American Southerner. "HI Y'ALL! I'd be Carolyn Thomas!" Her voice was powerful and lively, startling us. "I'll be your Health Ed and Physical Ed teach'er, ya hear?" She looked around as if scanning us for weeds and pests. "My goodness! I reckon y'all are the finest crop o' students I e'er seen!" She then blew a sudden blast on the whistle she had hidden in her jacket... in this heat! Perhaps the heat had already gotten to her head...

And last but not least, the gorgeous celebrity herself. "Huzzah! It is I, your highly esteemed, honorable historian, 3-time Santa Pyre Song Fest Ace Level Karaoke Contest winner and 4-time teacher of the month still running... Angelina Diego!" she introduced in monologue.

My heart sank at the same time 92 gasps sounded. I had heard of this person before. Why did the celebrity have to be a History teacher, and on top of that, HER, the conceited deadly beauty from Cuba, Greater Antilles, The Caribbean? "Honorable, my posterior!" I thought.

"If any of you wants my autograph, you may get it after the tour!" She blew out a one-eyed kiss.

The nerve! I was not liking her one bit, and the ironic part was that it had nothing to do with the subject of History. But perhaps I was judging her a bit too early. My father had said that it was always best to really learn about someone before making an assessment of them; to take a mile or two in their shoes, so to speak.

The Vice Principal took over. "We have more teachers than these fine folk, but they could not make it this morning. Heavy traffic today in East Sun City this morning. You know how it is on the east. You will get to know them as the week goes by. But for now, it is time for a little surprise." I instinctively read between the lines. Something was about to be thrown on us that we were not necessarily prepared for, or informed of beforehand for that matter. I could only hope that I would not become a victim on the first day. I swallowed.

We were divided into three groups based on our surnames and placed into the three eighth grade classrooms. We then did a Math and English placement test to decide which class we would be in, whether 8- A, B or C. After that, we went on the tour with Mr. Tanaka, Mr. Aaron, Miss Burnes and Miss Hollis as our guides. We started from the left past the pond.

At the T junction, we turned left to be shown the school infirmary. The nurse there was Miss Sara Peach. She was kind and possessed a smile that told us that if anything happened to us, we would be alright in her care.

Going down to the right, eastwards, we walked to an arrangement of eight buildings in two rows by four columns. Each building had three rooms and each grade had three classrooms, so that there was no way that any class or grade could clash. There were three laboratories for the natural sciences and there was an ICT room known affectionately as the Computer Lab. Five of the extra rooms were used as club meeting rooms, and the final was the Industrial Arts room, for subjects like Wood work and Technical Drawing.

Back tracking a bit, we went past the Infirmary to a large, roofed area containing the school Cafeteria. From entering was the lunch room with lots of lunch tables, and at the very end was where food could be ordered.

North of the Cafeteria was the school garden. There were vegetable plots and fruit trees. There was also a chicken coop, a rabbit house of hutches, and a duck house with an indoor pond. We met 11th graders doing work, probably for their community service hours needed for their graduation. This place was just awesome. To me, anyway.

Finally, we ended at the Reception House. It was just diagonally adjacent to the teacher's lounge, having been pushed to the left. We could partially see the basketball court from it. Here, we were issued our student hand books. We were all wished the best of luck and dismissed for the day.

1:00 PM.

All in all, it was a grand place, an awesome school. But a few things perplexed me. So much so that I was barely listening to Sammy's prattling. I did not even acknowledge Samantha as I climbed into the backseat of her car.

"Hey, Bill, are you okay?" she asked as she climbed back into the driver's seat.

I finally looked at her. "Oh... Sorry. I was deep in thought."

"I was like that too after my orientation. The place was so huge," she replied, sounding nostalgic. "Four years later and I don't even think about it anymore. Trust me; you'll get used to it in no time." Samantha was in 12th grade this year, meaning she had a lot of experience.

For the rest of the ride, it was an awkward silence. Even Sammy was quiet, lost in his own thoughts. He was probably cooking up some unholy mischief in that void of his brain. Thankfully I could brood in peace.

I only gave a half alert goodbye when we arrived at my house. I gave a small greeting to Mom as I sat down to lunch at the table. She still had a little more off-time from work.

"How was your first day?" she asked.

"Very interesting," I replied. "The place is great."

Mom smiled as she came to the table with her plate and sat down. "I'm glad you like it."

That night, three things were on my mind: the tank-built Vice Principal, the unknown other teachers, and the unnaturally timid and very beautiful Miss Scotland.

Morning, September 9th.

The next day, an unnaturally hot Tuesday, Sam and I stepped through the welcoming gray gates into a veritable concert gathering. From west to east was a veritable sea of students, a real multitude this time. Everyone was here, from the 8th to the 12th grade. The student count was around 460. It was an eye opener for me considering that there was only an easy going 180 of us back in my middle school.

"Surprised, boys? I figured you would be." Samantha placed a hand on our backs. "Don't worry. It will pass. Now have a good day and I will catch you guys later!" She eased past us but stopped a few feet before turning back to us. She casted a glowering eye at Samuel. "Stay out of trouble, brother. I mean it." She was quite imposing, causing a chill to roll down my spine even though her warning was not being sent my way. Their relationship was always shifty at best, compared with Ameera and I, of course. Soon, I lost track of her in the multitude.

"So, what now?" Samuel asked.

"You're asking me!?" I retorted, finally out of my stupor.

"Well, you're the smart one and you usually have all the answers," he replied.

"Did he not read the school rules and stuff? Did he read the handbook at all!?" I thought. "Well, I suppose we could just..." I was interrupted as the buzzer rang just then. I honestly forgot how long it took to get here from Brown Hills. "Well, the bell has decided for us. Let's get to our groups."

"Yeah."

We walked towards the left of the courtyard. The students gathered and organized themselves into their grades. Sam joined 8C and I lined up with 8B. Shortly after, the teachers, the Vice Principal and some staff I did not recognize joined us, lining up on the concrete bank.

"Good morning, all," greeted the important looking man I recognized as Mr. Florence, the true Principal of the school. He looked up at the never ending cerulean sky. "Today is just wonderful to begin the school year with. Eighth, it is a pleasure to have you here and I trust that you will enjoy the coming years. Welcome back, Ninth through Eleventh. And welcome to the end of one chapter and the beginning of another, Twelfth." I found it amusing how he referred to us by our grades. He continued with a very long speech before allowing the other teachers to introduce themselves. In total, there were 27 teachers, 14 males and 13 females. The 14 that introduced themselves yesterday were among the most important, and the hardest working, except for one.

For now, I kept a calculating eye on the beautiful yet reserved Miss Scotland. Today, she was wearing faded green women's office attire. Her raven hair was done into a neat bun. She seemed uncomfortable somehow. She would fiddle with her hands now and then. From that alone I speculated that there was something interesting bothering her. Something worth checking out if Sam was up for it. Not all of our glory days were scraps. We were heroes too sometimes.

Man, I hoped I was not developing one of those awkward student-teacher crushes. I mean, she was very beautiful, do not get me wrong. But obviously, she was twice my age... by my estimates anyway. She did look to be in her mid to late twenties. She actually looked very young for a teacher. Everyone else was pushing their thirties and forties, again by estimate. Anyway...

First period was homeroom. I would question the logic of having Homeroom directly after the General Assembly, but this is actually how the school did things on Mondays and Fridays. From Tuesday to Thursday, students just had their Homeroom session and then classes began as normal.

Anyway, while the other students went to their classrooms with their personal teacher, we eighth graders were left outside and reorganized into the new A-B-C permanent groups based on our scores from yesterday's tests. Just as I predicted, I, along with Joe, got into 8A. Sammy got into 8C; must have messed up either pretty badly or on purpose. If you really must know, whenever he actually got down to his work, he could even surprise me. I would honestly be afraid if he ever became a genius. Genius and mischievous was always a bad combo.

Regardless, next was the matter of receiving our Homeroom teachers. As luck would have it, Miss Scotland was chosen for 8A. Right then and there when I looked into her timid, ocean blue eyes, fate seemed to be working in my favor. You know what, I no longer cared if I had a crush on her or not, for she was just too captivating. I felt like something had clicked within me. I would do anything for her just to at the very least get her to smile. I made a silent promise to make her happy.