1| Vedica
If I were to ask you to name one word which you hated, what would that be? One word which drove you mad because it either triggered bad memories or it was something you heard for so long, you were detested from its repetition.
For me, that word was - Adjust.
As simple as it stood, my whole life revolved around the universal concept of adjustment. Ever since my birth, that word had formed part of my bones, muscles and sinew. You know how plants derived their nutrients from the soil. Well, I derived my current persona from that word.
Since our move from India to The States, that dreadful word had taken a whole new avatar. Not only was I adjusting to the different time zones, the accent and people, I was also making peace with my parent's separation.
Not literal, it was metaphorical.
Per his job's requirement, Dad had moved to New York. Mom was working out of Boston, her company being our family photos and a cactus. After a stressful negotiation to decide which place was better for my schooling, my parents prayed to the Gods of pros and cons list. The Gods had mercy on them and an opening came from a New York City school.
Dad won me and my resentful sense of being. Mom got a cactus companion. The ficus played an important role, I assure you. It was the sidekick all heroes needed.
By that, I did not intend to state I was the hero. I was the villain of the story.
The real hero was him, whom I still had to meet.
~
"Vaadiicaa Ready," the teacher called out my name, bridging his eyebrows together to resemble a unibrow.
"It's Vedica Reddy, sir," I straightened from my seat, blinking my reverie while trying to focus on his American accent.
At my new school - St. Stephens, I was inducted to accents which named me wrong, the western mode of classes which began late in August rather than July and a new code of grades - I was a Junior now, not an Eleventh Standard student.
"Didn't I say the same?" Mr. Howard asked, tilting his droopy eyes on the sheet that had our names. "Vadiicaa Ready."
"It's not ready like you're about to race. It's a surname, sir. Reddy. Red-eey."
"Reed-ey."
"Fuck it." My arms swung around.
The sounds of oohs and ahhs confirmed I did it again. Oops.
Since starting school, this was the third incident in the last week. There wasn't much I could do that to accept Mr. Howard's decision, pack my stuff and move out.
My bag rattled over my back as I trotted down the hall, marching towards the counselor's office. She sat on her chair, her intense gaze arrested at the entrance when I arrived. The pale slip in my hand should have made her cringe but all she did she lend a coy smile, straightening in her chair.
Anita Gupta - our guidance counselor was the only Indian I had come across since my move. When we first met, I assumed her to be a white woman who would roll her eyes and narrate my 'acting out' as some sort of punishment I wanted to inflict upon my parents. But those Cambridge degrees that hung on her walls weren't for show.
She was able to read me well.
"I see you've landed in trouble again," Anita said, placing her black-rimmed specks gently over her nose which framed her oval-shaped face perfectly. "What was it this time?"
I plopped on the chair, sliding the bag off my shoulder. "Cussing, again."
"Which word?"
"You want me to say it? Again?"
"Yes," with a sigh, Anita pulled out her writing pad. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic - clicking her pen. "I want you to tell me again, why you said what you said and what triggered it."
"Fuck," in a rather boisterous manner and widened chest, I answered. "Mr. Howard called me ready aaggaain and that was it." Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic - that sound punctured my patience. "Would you mind?" I pointed to her silver pen. "Not doing that."
Anita imbibed the patience of a thousand gods when she dealt with me. For all the tantrums I threw at her, she smiled and took it sportingly.
"Vedica, can I ask you something?" She didn't wait for my acknowledgment. "How is your previous assignment going?"
"I befriended the janitor."
"What? I asked you to make friends with people your age." She tapped at her pad and skimmed through her notes while I sat, crossed legs and arms outstretched over the vacant chairs on both my sides like some mafia boss, waiting for her to realize her mistake. "It says here, you need to make neewww friennndddsss..."
Her last words paced slower while her eyes widened.
"My last assignment was to make new friends... Anyone," I began, my voice boastful. She didn't think I would find a loophole in her instruction. "So Greg, our janitor is an Italian immigrant whose granny married and then travelled here. He had two kids and a wife and he seemed quite suspicious of me."
All while I narrated my task of knowing five things about my friend-cum-assignment, Anita retained her smile, seemingly waiting for her turn.
"You know you can't keep avoiding it forever, Vedica," she said, leaning over the table and tilting her head. "You need to befriend people your own age. Not Greg."
Somewhere it ticked me - her calmness but I inhaled deep, channeling my inner demon. "I have plenty of friends back home."
"This is your new home."
"Pfft, I don't think so. Dad said he is still looking for a transfer back to Mumbai and when he gets it, we'll move back."
"Ved," Anita's eyes glistened. Her head slanted towards the table. "I had talked to him when he came to drop you on the first day. He was worried that you won't adjust, so... It's not..."
"He said he wants to continue here, didn't he?" I asked, watching my counselor's head lean into her chest. Her dark brown mane cupped the sides of her pretty face, soothing the heat of my anger. "He was lying all this while, isn't it?"
In only a week, I had confided in Anita more than I had in Greg - the Janitor, and my dad combined. With the thoughts of reality pinching my senses, there seemed only one escape -acknowledgement.
Heaviness hung inside my chest when I inhaled. My acts - little modes of rebellion was only to expedite dad's transfer. I assumed if a traditional Indian father like Jay Reddy saw his daughter going rogue, he would surely take precautions to contain her. But my plan didn't consider his. It didn't take into account, what he wanted in his life.
It was always his dream to teach abroad and he found that years later than all his younger colleagues.
I, the devil spawn, was ready to quash his dreams because Facetiming with people back home was inconveniencing my sleep pattern.
"Ved," Anita called out. "Are you alright?"
I nodded. In a sudden shift from my inconsiderate devious patterns, I found myself being a considerate daughter to the needs and wants of my folks.
Wow! Did I just say folks instead of parents?
Maybe I was adjusting after all.
"Yes, I am fine." I will be fine. "And I am sorry about what I did. I will sort them out myself."
"You don't have to," she said, eying the posters behind her that showed people holding hands. "You have us for that. We have volunteers in class who help new students cope with change. You are especially important because you are-"
"Guinea pig?" Which only made her chuckle inward.
"No, because you are from a different country altogether than kids who've come from different states or districts. It's been a while since St. Stephens had a student from another country."
I darted my head on both sides like her words suddenly made more sense. Sometimes pretending to understand made the elders stop talking. Although I did decide to improve my behavior, Rome wasn't built in a day.
"So are you ready?"
"For what?" I straightened, clutching the armrest.
"Your real assignment. Befriend someone, anyone." She pointed the back of her pen at me. Chewed up tip stared near my face. "And it means people of your age. Not the Janitor or the Principal and definitely not the Cafeteria Manager."
"Then whom?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, watching the throng of kids leave classes at the chime of a bell. "I haven't talked to anyone, yet."
"Not my problem. Also, your previous task stays, Ved. But I have a new one for you."
"No," I launched from my chair, ready to grapple her pen if she tried scribbling more instructions. When Anita's peering brown gaze landed on me, my adrenaline diffused into thin air, slinking me back in my chair. "Fine. What is it?"
"Observe," she said, scribbling the same. "Observe people, observe if they are talking to someone, what lingo they use. Observe."
"Like a creepy stalker?"
"Like a debate moderator. Listen and observe. Look for things which might help you."
"You know, for so many Cambridge degrees you have, sometimes don't know what you are talking about," I said. Anita's face turned to a darker shade of red, her eyes ready to plop off its sockets. I wasn't blind to notice I screwed up. "Sorry, I will observe."
She tore a page from her notepad, lent a badly scribbled prescription for me - observe. Like that was some highly difficult word to remember.
"Also," Anita grabbed my attention when I tossed my bag over my shoulder. "Grab a few pamphlets. They might help."
"I don't want safe sex pamphlets. My dad would die seeing them."
Anita fell back of her chair. Her shoulders and chest rumbled; an unheard vibration danced in the room. "It's for some competitions. There's painting and something else about 'Photographical Muses' and stuff."
"No thanks. I am good."
The hallways were empty when I walked out and so was the classroom. With nothing much to observe in the empty gallows, I moved to the lush green area outside, where everyone huddled together before leaving.
Girls stood with their gangs, eying me like hyenas, snarling. Boys, most of them had had eyes on me below my neck. So much for visual harassment at school. Then there were couples, intertwined like climbers around each other, sniffing each other's pheromones for procreation.
I, a lone wolf stood in the midst of all this, eying my observation prey.
Something drew my attention.
Hiding beneath thick vegetation that ran parallel to the garden boundaries, a kitten meowed. It was barely days old, its ginger-colored fur sticking together. Its soft cries died in the aftermath of loud background traffic and chatter from the students.
I moved closer but the little ball of glued fur moved back, hissing adorably. I lent a finger and knelt, waiting for him to make contact. If I'd learnt anything from Harry Potter, it was that you always let the animal make the next move.
The kitten, with its doe eyes and cuddly face, tilted its head for long. With inches per minute, it moved closer until its cold nose bopped the tip of my finger.
I made contact. A flash from somewhere blinded it back into its hiding.
Did someone photograph us?
~*~*~
This is my first attempt at teen fiction. Hope you like this sweet, banter filled romance.
Oh, and did it tell you, you'd love the male protagonist *wink, wink*
He isn't your usual bad boy. He's a nerd. A good boy.
The bad and the rebellious one is the girl.
So there going to be a lot of tempt the saint moment. *Evil laughs* And more hilarious, fun filled moments.
I'd help from a few friends with the lingo but in case I've missed something, feel free to correct me.
Please don't forget to vote and comment. Let's get this baby recognized.
recognized.
