Amorphous | adjective

vague; ill-organized; unclassifiable. 

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"Hey."

I was taking my books out of my locker when I heard a voice, I don't think I recognized.

Not another introduction. Please, not another introduction.

"Hello." I replied, because it was rude to keep a person waiting for a reply. I was still facing my locker though, mind you, as I still had to find my blue notepad (it was blue day). You never know what extra information a teacher can give, when he's lecturing, that's not on the whiteboard.

"I'm June. I heard about your accident...I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Ugh. Poo. She dropped the introduction bomb.

And that was when I turned to face her. She had a very...strawberry coloured hair, an equally red pair of lips, and a tiny hint of black on her eyes.

   I don't even know how they do it. Put make up, I mean. I can't even remember the names of these assorted beauty products, let alone use them.

"It's no big deal, really. Apart from the fact that I can't remember people anymore," I said, following my Basic Intro-Reply Protocol. This is the 53rd time I had to introduce myself. So you can expect that by now I have a standard protocol for what to reply. It gets boring though, saying the same thing over and over again.

"Okay! I'm going to get late for class. I'll see you around then? Oh and feel free to join me at our lunch table," she said, with an air of self-importance.

She's probably never going to see me again.

The school hallway was an absolutely inappropriate place for introductions. At least, for me, it was. It was so noisy and boisterous. But I had to do away with any sort of dislike to this gesture, as my amnesia made it a fact that almost every introduction happened here.

Even though two months have passed since that unfortunate event, people haven't stopped coming up to me and introducing themselves to me. And honestly, I don't really like the whole Meet 'n' Greet thing. I'm more of a one man army type of person. I can't think straight with many people around me. It's not that I don't have friends in school. I do. In my case, friend.

Blair Summers. Just like the bright sunny vibes that her name gave, she was the epitome of optimism. Nothing ever brought her cheery self down. I adored her, really. She was extremely sociable, unlike myself, so I didn't know if I could call her exclusively my friend, but well, she'd stuck beside me since kindergarten, even if she knew about my condition, so I guess she was.

Topping the cake with a very fine cherry of its own, is my memory loss. I can't remember any one, literally any one, from before the accident. It was a pretty severe one, you can say.

But Blair, being the type of girl who'd refuse to be forgotten, whatever the situation may be; made it extremely clear that she was a close friend and the only friend I had, and that I am not to forget her ever again.

Speak of the devil and she is here.

"Amber, my girl!" She did The Jazz Hands. While Blair was always caught up in a loop of never ending TV show binge-watching (thus explaining her very melodramatic greeting), an ardent gay-rights activist (in our school, at least), an ailurophile, and a meticulous Potterhead; I was a devout intellect, probably the only one who researches the facts given in Wikipedia before submitting a project, and a dedicated Pretty Little Liars fan, making various theories of the possibilities of different people being 'A'...And that's the only show Blair hates with passion.

"Blair, my girl..." I said weakly, trying to imitate her enthusiastic jazz hands, and failing miserably.

"That was a very hammy way to do it, Berry," she said chuckling. Oh! How I hated that very childish nickname that made me sound like a grape.

She was going through her Wannabe British phase. And that included faking the accent (at least she was trying to and I'd give an A+ for effort), dressing up like a preppy schoolgirl, trying to possess their so-called impeccable manners, and using very Non-American slang. I don't get the hype about the British accent. I find it a bit overbearing but that's what I think and not her. Maybe I should mention it to her.

"You know, the whole Trying To Become British thing seems weird for me. I think their accent is overbearing."

"Oh, sod off!" She giggle-glared.

Well, that was a fail.

I had just started walking away, like she'd asked me to, when she grabbed my hand and said, "no, not like that. It was meant in a figurative sense."

"Oh. Okay." I felt like a loon. But the feeling has become something of a daily occurrence. So I'm kind of used to it by now.

"Come on then, we're going to be late for lessons," she said, linking her hand in mine, and pulling me to the class.

People where staring at me. Possibly because I looked like a smurf today. I thought that they might've gotten used to my color days by now. But every single day they'd look at me weird, even more so, on the days that I feel that they have gotten used to it. Who knows? Maybe my hunches are wrong. Mum always says that I don't know how to reciprocate feelings properly. You have to be very vocal and elaborate of how you feel when you're around me. And that probably drives everyone away from me.

Except Blair. She was extremely vocal and elaborate about her feelings since birth. So that's probably why she got along with me so well. And my color-days. And the movie-routine. And my accuracy obsession.

I religiously followed my color days. I had them since I was a child and never, in my sixteen years of existence, have I skipped a day. Today was my blue day, so I had a blue backpack, blue stationary, a blue dress, blue shoes, and a blue hair tie. I wanted my books to follow my color days too, so I bound them every day with the color of the next day's, but that got tiring. So three years back, mum got this soft Styrofoam-y thing in assorted colors, and now I just stick it on top of the books. Makes it easier. So basically everything I own is color-coded.

"Blair, do you think I look like a smurf?" I asked, thinking of the chances that I may have to remove blue day and replace it with something else.

"You've been asking me that on every blue day. And no, you don't look like a smurf. They have blue skin. You're just...clad in blue. And don't fret. I'm following your blue day too, today." She was following my blue day. Well, not completely. It was just the blazer and the plaid skirt that was a baby blue shade. Her shirt and knee-socks where white. And her backpack was still floral and brown. And her books weren't even covered. Gosh! I didn't realize how undedicated to following a day a person can get.

"Talking about smurfs," I said, sitting on top of my table now,"I find it quite impossible that a potion made these smurfs blue and pint-sized. I think it's a birth defect...you know genetics. Maybe their skin related DNA might have been altered before birth. Wait. Is that possible? I think I'll research about that tonight. And have you noticed how their community is like this satire—"

"You do realize that I'm not paying attention, don't you?" Blair said, interrupting me. Huh. Maybe I should talk to her about Strawberry Shortcake. Actually, I think most of the kid's TV shows are satires of the real world. I mean there's usually a pretty—

Interrupted. Again. Even my thoughts don't have freedom. Poo.

"Amber, will you please get down the table and sit on the chair so that we can start our class?"

"Y-yeah." I stammered. Even if he was polite and wouldn't hurt me, big men like my chemistry teacher, Mr. Young (though he's pretty old), scared the unicorns out of me.

I wasn't so bad at speaking to boys. Well, boy, to be honest. It was just my cousin Shawn I spoke to. And it was pretty clear he didn't like to speak with me in public.

But to protect my dignity, Vanessa was worse. She was a friend of mine in the school, but she transferred to Wisconsin this year, and boy, do I miss her.

Because now, there isn't a trio between me, Van and Blair. Now, there isn't another socially awkward girl in the gang other than me. And now, Blair has even more reason to make me socialise and risk me fainting due to nervousness and greet-fright.

And it's killing me.

Just then, Blair, who had seated herself next to me, tapped on my arm. I turned to face her, a blank look on my face. But inside I was freaking out at the fact that I might be missing some important notes that Mr. Young might slip out in his lecture. And so, I turned right back to Mr. Young, ignoring Blair.

And then she made a weird noise that sounded a bit like urinating.

"Psst. Listen, will you? You're annoying the bollocks out of me!" She exclaimed finally, when she got tired of 'psst-ing' at me.

"No, I won't! I want to pay attention in class and you're not letting me!"

Whoops. So that may have been a teensy bit too loud.

"What was that, Miss Fields?" Mr. Young asked, turning around from the blackboard.

I looked sideways to meet with a flustered Blair, and slowly rise up. She was staring at me, her eyes unnaturally open.

"I-I j-just told B-Blair that I w-won't listen t-t-to her and w-w-wa-want to p-pay at-tension." I stammered through Mr. Young's narrow eyes.

And that's when Blair shoved my elbow.

"Ouch!" I yelped.

"Miss Summers and Miss Fields, I take it that you two find this class boring enough to disturb each other. I will suggest you a remedy for it," he paused, looking at boy of us, again and again.

"We apologize, Mr. Young. I'll see that this won't occur again," Blair said, before I could mess things up any further.

"Apology not accepted for you," he said pointing at Blair,"because you've been chattering away, not once or twice, but multiple times. So I take it you can very well find others outside to be entertained with. As for you, Miss Fields, I will leave you now, because it's just the beginning of the semester and you haven't misbehaved before. Consider this a warning," Mr. Young said, still staring at me, with his narrows eyes narrowing further behind his bespectacled face.

"It w-won't hap-pen again, Mr. Yo-young," I scrambled out, graciously taking my seat before drawing any more attention to myself. I look at Blair to see her shocked face at the seemingly unjust way in which Mr. Young handled things.

"Miss Summers, I think it's best you leave the class now," he said firmly.

"But sir, I'm really sorry, I am. I will not repeat it. Ever again, I promise!" She pleaded.

I really don't see the difference between skipping classes and being thrown out of one. And Blair usually did the former a lot. It was all the same in the end, right? Either way, you're outside the class.

"You've already apologized and I haven't accepted it. That's that and please leave the class before it gets any more embarrassing for you. And really, Miss summers, it would do you good to drop that horrendous accent."

Blair looked at me again, making her eyes look exactly like Mr. Young's before slowly packing her backpack and moving out.

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"Bloody nasty, I say! That's what he is. Bloody nasty!"

It was cafeteria, and Blair was ranting to me about Mr. Young. I had learnt not to interrupt these 'rants' because if I did, I'd also be one of the rant topics. And believe me when I say it feels absolutely terrible to hear your best friend, ranting about you, to you.

But I guess this time I didn't have to interrupt, because she pretty much dragged me in it.

"And you!" She spat,"You absolutely nasty creature! Why, oh, why did you even have to answer Mr. Young when he asked you what you told ever-so-loudly? You could have shut up and we'd both have been in the class."

Okay, that stung. Being called an absolutely nasty creature wasn't really a big compliment. Which was enough to get me crying. Yeah. I was pretty much a crybaby.

She sighed and said,"Look, I'm sorry. I know I should be careful about things like this around you, but it sucks that you get to do whatever you please because of your condition and most of the time I bear the brunt of it. Now before I go on about that, I'm really sorry. Okay?"

I nodded, and she hugged me.

"So, we're okay, right?" She asked, giving me the most intense Blair face I'd ever seen.

"Yeah, we are." I said, as she pulled me in for another hug. Why do people like hugging so much? It transfers so much germs. It's kind of gross.

"I'm going to call it a day and head home. Do you want to tag along?" Blair asked, after a while of stuffing some garlic bread down her throat.

"You're just going to leave? But how? You're not even sick!" I exclaimed.

"Who says that I can't get sick any moment now? So tell me, coming or not?" She was getting quite impatient.

I shake my head as a 'no' and exactly then, she puts up a hammy coughing fit. And by hammy, I mean as hammy as she can get, which is quite a lot.

"Oh my," she coughs,"God!" And pants,"help me! Some," and coughs again,"one!" And she glared at me.

I looked at her, emotionless, when she kicked my shin.

"Ow! What was that for?" I cried.

"Say.your.part." She whispered through her teeth.

"What part?"

She kicked my shin again, before saying, "just do it."

And so I had to improvise my own extremely hammy performance.

"Oh! Blair is your throat feeling abnormally itchy? Do you require urgent care? Oh, Blair!" I yell in a seemingly realistic manner.

I guess Blair didn't like it as much as I did, because she kicked my shin again.

"Just take me to the nurse," she whispered.

"Oh! I am taking my dear friend Blair, to the nurse because she has an abnormally severe case of 'coughing fits'."

She kicked my shin for the fourth time, making me wince. By then half of the cafeteria was looking towards us, and that made me feel extremely nauseous.

I helped her up, and she slung her arm around my neck, still coughing hysterically.

"The sadness I feel for you, facing such unfortunate events, is oh-so-genuine! Oh, Blair, please do not accidentally suicide! It's not—" Blair clamped her hand onto my mouth.

"Okay, that's enough," she whispered.

"How well did I do?" I asked. Of course my performance was not Oscar-worthy but I do think of myself as a fairly good actress. I mean I did win mono act of the year in second grade...that counts, right?

"Oh, Amber," she said, shaking her head lightly.

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a/n

the image attached is a cute af chibi of Amber drawn by my FartlingSista5ever™ ikemenxchan <33