Tundra

As I fell into the ocean, my thoughts blurred. The crisp blue water, beautiful but deadly was guaranteed to spell death for me. Don’t get me wrong, time was not going by any slower. Instead, my thoughts were speeding up.

I felt the agony of a ton of bricks hit my helpless body but then I slowly realized it had been the sensation of ice piercing me. First starting with my spine, and then to my throat. Oddly enough, I felt at peace as the pain slowly merged into what I thought was my imagination. I imagined Rosyboa comforting me with her gentle grace. I desperately wanted to apologize to her for everything I had done, and for everything that had happened leading up to that moment. I hadn’t headed her warning and now I was going to pay for it. Her blue eyes reminded me of the frigid Pacific waters I had found myself in. I could feel myself drifting from existence but oddly enough, I wasn't afraid. Is this what death feels like?

Let’s be honest, this isn't exactly how I anticipated my life to turn out! You may be wondering how I found myself in this tragic situation. First let’s go back about two months ago…

The crisp October air was a soothing reminder of the easy school year to come. Or so I thought. School had already begun about a month ago though it was still a gradual transition. Every senior’s dream is to not have to stress about tests, homework, etc. We just wanted to chill and be content without the world scolding us into adulthood.

As I passed by the numerous trophies on display, I felt empowered knowing that I had made a difference in Piston Technological High School’s history. Having my future lined up for my had been a luxury that only few seniors got to enjoy.

Cross country had meant the world to me. Being the fastest one on the team is my realistic equivalent of having superpowers. I had a full ride scholarship to Wayne State University with tunnel vision locked onto international business. Despite this, my deep insecurity prevented me from truly being content.

“Can you believe it’s senior year already”? a familiar voice startled me from behind.

“Hey Niles, it’s going too fast man...They expect too much from us...they all do. Once we graduate, the “adults” will expect us to have our entire lives figured out. I know how much Boa’s dad hates me already but me being an adult with no job is only going to fuel his fire”. I was begging to stress already.

“Chill man, stop stressing, you're always on your own ass. You do want to live past thirty, right? he joked.

“Plus, once I become Detroit’s most extraordinary chemist, I’ll make bank so you definitely will not go broke,'' Niles added.

He dreamed big, he always had. That’s more than I can say about half the people in that school.

If there is one person in the world who knows how to calm my anxiety, it’s Niles. I met him when I was adopted. I was taken from my original parents at three years old. I barely remember much about them but one day I will find out why it happened. But enough about that, it’s kind of a touchy subject. At the time I was adopted, he was only a year younger than me, but most people would not be able to discern that because of his intellect. I swear that he was born a genius. Unlike me, he was constantly bullied for his intelligence. Not to mention that he was one of the only Caucasians that attended our school. One thing that I have always admired about him is that he is able to brush people’s harshness off as if it were nothing. I am just worried that one day it would be too much for him to handle and he’ll snap.

The bell ringing transported me back to reality.

“I know that Detroit has a high poverty rate and that almost everyone who says they are going to do great things ends up getting trapped here." He sighed as he said that.

It's true, our city is notorious for its poverty among other things and it only seems to be increasing. We have not had the best of luck recently with our leaders. Many of them have been ejected out of office because of corruption, especially Kwame.

"But dude I'm telling you I’m trying to create something that the DITA will glorify so that I can get into their program," He stated. Enthusiasm lit up on his face.

"I have to get going. Good luck bro and remember what I said about not being so hard on yourself.” With that he swiftly disappeared.

The Detroit Innovative Technology Association only selected about one percent of anyone who even attempted their program. People who have been admitted into the program easily make six figures a year with opportunities for working abroad, promotions, etc. The catch is that they are especially ruthless when it comes to people submitting their ideas for projects, research, et cetera to them. I don’t trust them one hundred percent, but Niles insists that they are his only gateway to enhance his reputation and stand out from the crowd.

Funny I should mention that because I was on my way to Advanced Chemistry class. Of course, the halls had to be packed as everyone attempted to move in unison. The school's colors were red and blue in honor of our city's famed basketball team and the walls were painted to match. Piston Tech was an enormous school but the egos of the people who went there were even larger. Some people blocked the hallways because they found it funny. They at least had the decency not to mess with me. All I had to do was glance at them and they scurried out of the way. Don’t get me wrong, I was not a thug or anything. I honestly feel as though it was based off my appearance. I was a tall African American with a high-top fade. My lanky display reminded them that I was the fastest one on the cross-country team and therefore made this school money.

I knew that I was going to be late to class, but I could not have cared less. I’ll be honest with you, the only one that made that class even remotely tolerable had been my girlfriend, Boa. I slide quietly past the doorway into the room. It didn’t matter though as everyone’s gaze was on me.

“Mr. Evans, you’re late...again. Please have a seat”, Mr. Profecia scolded.

I really didn't appreciate his commentary, but I sat down anyway next to Boa who by them had been pissed off too.

“Glad you could make it, Ike,” she snarked.

I didn’t take it personally as I could clearly tell there had been something below the surface that was bothering her. She only gets bitter when something is urgent. Between you and I, I really hoped she wasn't going to ask me to have yet another dinner with her parents.

“Relax, class barely even started. Plus, these kids are half asleep anyway”, I responded.

“Okay...I’m sorry. Can you please do me a favor, she pleaded as she turned to me. Her beautiful blue eyes were trying to make me feel sympathetic.

“Anything for you, babe”, I reluctantly replied as I gritted my teeth. I don’t think she hinted at the sarcasm. I thought to myself, “Please, I’m begging you, do NOT ask me to have dinner with your parents”.

“So…”, Boa was hesitating. “My mother wants us to sit down and have a meal because she claims it’s been too long since we’ve had one”.

Damnit, I should have known that was coming, oh wait...I did! The thought of having her father stare me down as I was barely able to eat my food made me tremble. Aaron Roberts, Boa’s father was a decorated ex-marine. He was tall and too strong for his own good. I swear that man was, how do I put this... the most blatant racist I have ever met. I can easily pick up on his sarcastic commentary. Sometimes he’ll come right out and say it. Not to mention that their house was decorated with Confederate flags, belonging to Aaron, of course. I could stand Boa’s mother, Nicole Roberts. She accepted the fact that a young black man was dating her white daughter. Even though her southern upbringing contradicted that, she still respected me enough not to discriminate.

“So, she was thinking about doing it tonight...”, Boa stated reluctantly. She knew how racist her father was, making it very uncomfortable to ask me.

“It gets cold every time I walk in the house because your father’s heart is made of ice,'' I joked.

“I’ll just take that as a yes,'' she replied.

I looked at the board trying to take my mind off the discussion. One thing caught my eye the most, and for a while my attention was fixed onto it. Mr. Profecia was talking about an imperfect serum that would allow people to adapt to extreme climates. They call it Resemian and all attempts to create it ultimately have failed. However, chemists are certain it can be done.

“There is no telling the exact effects it could have on people or animals, but we do know that it activates the survival instinct within us. I don’t really believe in legends that foretell the future, but I do think that they are going about researching this the wrong way. It’ll take someone from a younger generation who comprehends ideas differently”, Mr. Profecia explained. He liked to elaborate using his hands. It was almost as though he could take up the entire classroom, which was already large and decorated, with just his presence.

If there was one thing that could truly please the DITA, it would be creating the real-life version of this serum. I knew that this could be Niles’ only chance to impress them. I quickly texted him about the opportunity. Almost immediately afterwards, he replied, “Ok, thanks man. I’ll be up all night working on a blueprint if I have to, but it will be done.” I felt guilty because I knew him better than anyone and he honestly would too. I’m not sure why but this apprehensive feeling would not leave. I felt as though something malicious would happen...or maybe I was being paranoid.

The bell rang, signaling the time of our release and for once I did not want to leave. I wanted to know more about this so called “Resemain” serum. How would our daily lives be affected by it especially because climate change is a treat? How much would it cost? The fact that renowned chemists couldn't even bring it into reality only made my curiosity grow. Enough of that, I had to get my mind ready for this damn oppressive...I mean “family” dinner.