Waiting for the Sun - 6 - My Name
[MASTER POST]
For the first time, he came and found me himself. That day, wheeling a rickety cart full of lab supplies at the heels of the chemistry teacher was Mr. Hale. Pouring chemicals and heating solutions, he kept his head down and followed orders humbly as he helped demonstrate the experiment. I found myself following his every movement with a knot in my throat. The teacher’s monotonous instructions bounced off of my ears.
A static blip suddenly interrupted the teacher mid-sentence, and the weekly student-run broadcast flickered onto the television monitor mounted above our heads. I blanched and sank in my chair in mortification as my own face appeared on the screen like a deer in headlights - I had been dreading this moment. My classmates turned to me, snickering, before leaning forward to listen. Worst of all, Mr. Hale was there to see it too; he leaned against the wall and watched the screen with a quiet curiosity.
“This week’s exclusive interview with our school’s loveliest newest edition to the senior class - Aurelia Fairfax!”
“I - I go by Rhea, actually.” I watched myself stutter under the weight of the camera’s focus. A career in acting was definitely not in my cards.
“Okay sure, Rhea. Let’s play twenty questions and learn more about you!” Before I could agree, the quick-fire ensued. It started out simple enough. “Where did you move from?”
“California, the Napa area.”
“Hobbies?”
“Reading and going for walks.”
“Anything on your bucket list?”
“Even though it’s cliché - to travel to Paris.”
“So you’re a romantic.” It suddenly took a more personal turn. “What types of guys are you attracted to?”
I grimaced. “Do I have to answer this?”
“Time’s ticking!”
“… Guys with good manners, who remember the little things.”
This earned a little hoot out of the boys in the class. I covered my eyes with a hand, waiting torturously until the video finally finished. Rob leaned across the aisle and pat me on the head in pity.
“That was your official welcome.” he snickered.
While the teacher continued unphased with the complicated chemistry demonstration, I noticed the hint of a small smirk had formed across Mr. Hale’s lips as if he were trying to hold in laughter. Before I knew it everyone around me was bustling around gathering glassware and chemicals. I hurriedly jumped up to follow suit and tried to mimic their motions. Appraising my flustered state, my ambitious lab partner Landon pried the beaker from my hand.
“Look, I really want to get an A in this class. Maybe it’s best if I do the experiment for us. And you can just… document.”
So, I simply read the instructions and jotted down notes while my partner fussed around with numerous substances around the burner. Although the disorganization made me nervous, I didn’t want to be more of a nuisance.
“… Next, add the silver nitrate solution one drop at a time until no more precipitate forms.” I dictated. “Record the amount of silver nitrate you added.”
Landon added a few drops into the beaker, but the solution remained clear. He frowned, and added a few more, and still nothing.
“Why isn’t this working?”
“Maybe the base is too dilute. Are you sure you measured--”
“Of course. I double-checked. I can fix this - I’ll just evaporate some of the water first.” And he placed the vat over the blue flame. It began to smoke.
I gawked, “Landon, we’re not supposed to heat it now…!”
He blocked my hand. “Trust me, I’ve got this covered.”
Despite my protests, he let the solution boil violently. When he deemed it ready he reached for the tongs. From behind I heard our teacher exclaim, “Mr. de Graaf, what are you doing--?!” but it was too late. As soon as Landon removed the beaker from the wire stand, the bottom of the glass cracked and shattered - and the scalding liquid splattered all over the front of his pants.
Amidst the yells of alarm, a cold wind rushed in through the door and suddenly Mr. Hale’s back was shielding me from the calamity. Landon was twisting in a panic while the teacher pulled him by the shoulders out the door to the safety shower.
“Mr. Hale, clean up the mess right away!” the teacher barked before rushing out the room with the miserable boy.
Immediately, Mr. Hale bent down and examined my gloved hands front and back. “Are you hurt?” he murmured lowly. His clear golden eyes anxiously searched my skin up and down for any wounds.
“N-no, I’m fine. It didn’t get on me.”
He dropped his cool touch before turning to address the class. “Everyone, stay clear of this area! Continue your experiments and please - be very careful.”
Mumbling and shaking their heads, my classmates turned back to their benches.
Mr. Hale dutifully poured kitty litter over the chemical spill. To my apprehension, he glared down at me. “What were you two thinking? That was very dangerous!”
“I tried to stop him…” I bit my lip. “Is Landon going to be alright?”
“Yes, it didn’t look like it soaked through his clothes.” He knelt down to sweep up the broken glass and rubbish into a pale. After a moment he muttered, “… I’m relieved you weren’t injured.”
I blushed. “Is there anything I can help with?”
He shook his head. “Just set up the experiment again while I throw this away, and I’ll try to help you finish.”
I tried to ignore the jealous looks from the girls as Mr. Hale stayed at my side and carefully explained each procedure - and through his instruction, I actually understood the chemistry. He nodded encouragingly as I made progress. When I had made it to the ice bath stage, the bell rang; the period was over.
Claudie paused by my workbench. “Are you coming to lunch?”
“I just have the last few steps to do, then I’ll meet up with you guys.”
Everyone filed out, and it was just me and Mr. Hale. Now that it was quiet I was hyper aware of my beating heart. Next to him, I felt very safe.
He cleared his throat. “In the video earlier, you said… I didn’t realize you preferred being called Rhea. You should have told me.”
“I don’t mind. For some reason, you’re the only person… It doesn’t sound weird when you say my real name.”
My heart pounded in my throat, wondering why on earth that had slipped out of my mouth.
Mr. Hale had frozen uncertainly and I was sure I had made him uncomfortable when he continued, “Aurelia. It’s quite an old-fashioned name, actually.”
“My parents liked the meaning behind it. Golden.”
“Which is fitting.” He surveyed me cautiously before adding, “My name sort of has the same connotation, too. It means jewel, or keeper of treasure.”
“And your name is…?”
“Jasper.”
I repeated, and the sound rolled off of my tongue. “Jasper.” It felt much more natural to say.
A bittersweet smile flashed across his expression but he avoided my gaze. By that time, we had concluded the experiment without any further mishaps.
“I can clean this up. Go ahead to your friends.” he said kindly.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, this is my job.”
I gathered my belongings and paused with my bag slung over my shoulder.
“Do you still go to the library during lunch?” I hesitantly pried.
Jasper shook his head. “I, too, realized that maybe I should try and socialize a bit more, so I’ve been spending time in the art studio with Mr. Miles.”
“Very cool. And… thank you for that by the way. I needed the push. It’s not so bad after all, making friends.”
His smile, though reserved, was a genuine one. “Have a good rest of the day, Aurelia.”
--------
When he had heard sound of breaking glass from out in the hallway, he had been so frightened that he had been too late, but thankfully he had found her unharmed… To his wonder, she had not flinched back from his cold hands. Now at peace in front of the easel and lost in his own world, Jasper continued to paint.
Mr. Miles came around, adjusted his glasses, and curiously peered at the canvas’ livid colors.
“I had no idea you were a fan of Expressionism, Mr. Hale.”
“Excuse me?”
“Most of your works as of late have had a very Franz Marc-esque flair. All the violent, solid colors blend together in their lines but the strength conveys a certain… agitation. Intriguing to study, but the eye cannot rest. Perhaps the students would find it a good unit to challenge.”
Jasper bashfully set the brush down. “I didn’t even realize.”
The wise teacher folded his arms. “Assuming it’s a reflection of your emotions - may I ask if anything has been bothering you?”
A long, frustrated exhale escaped Jasper’s chest. There were in fact many thoughts wrestling in his heart that he refused to lose to.
“Life isn’t… being as predictable as I usually prefer.”
“How does that make you feel? Sad, or stupid, or…?”
Indeed, he felt… young. As if his countless years of being age twenty had not yet taught him all there was to know. “Like I am not as in-control as I thought I was.”
“Ah, youth, isn’t it wonderful?” Mr. Miles smiled ruefully, almost nostalgically. “But I guarantee you, whatever you thought was best, it’ll be replaced by something even greater. Fate has planned something in your favor and thus it is beyond your human control.”
Then again, Mr. Miles had no idea who he was truly speaking to. To date, Jasper had stayed sane because he had carefully planned out every single decision of his endless years.