serendipity | noun
The occurrence and development of events in a
happy and beneficial way.

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"Do you remember me?" He came extremely close to me, his breath tingling on my face. His face was vaguely familiar. Like a distant memory. Like I knew him from another life.

"Uh. ker..par?" I knew it was a 'P' name. I tried to say it properly, but the Yoda in me was acting up. Damn you, Yoda speak.

"What?"

"Par-k-ker? So-rry." My broken English was going to be the death of me.

"Peter." That name was familiar too.

"Like P-Peter Pan?"

That was when he chuckled. His voice was like a melody. It suited his face. Which was, without a doubt, one of the best I've ever seen. He was like candy for the eye.

"Uh. Yeah."

"Ooh. Nice. G-Go to class, I ha-have to," I say, rushing to get away from the close proximity that I had been in, with him.

"Yoda speak acting up, eh?" He grinned, stopping me from running away by pulling me back with his arm.

   I'm assuring you, my eyes popped out of my head.

   How did he know about Yoda talk?! Can he hear my thoughts? What if he can? Let me give it a try and see.

  Hey Peter,  can you hear me now?

    No response. But what if he can and didn't reply on purpose? Oh my god. This is terrible!

What if—

Okay, calm down, Amber. It's just your thoughts. He can only read your thoughts. No big deal. Okay. Okay.

"You didn't say anything," he said, startling me and effectively ridding me from my train of thoughts.

"R-Read my mind c-can't you?" I said, trying my best to stop the Yoda in me.

"What are you talking about?" He said, furrowing his eyebrows, "no, I can't read your mind."

I heaved a sigh of relief at that.

"You're still the same, you know. Yoda talk, colour days, and all that jazz," he said, as if he knew me from long back.

"Uh. Th-the sa-same you are too."

Why, oh why, do you speak through me, Yoda?

"Difference is, you never Yoda talked to me. This is strange. Very strange. Unless..."

    He stopped his sentence midway, like Rick Riordon ends his book halfway through, and left me gaping like a fish as he swaggered off to his class.

    What. The. Poo. Just. Happened?!

    "Oh em gee! Did that new guy just totally hit on you?" Blair said, rushing up from behind me. There was a change in the way she spoke. She'd dropped the hammy accent.

    "Ehrm. No, he just...actually, I don't know what just happened now," I said, truly confused.

    "Oh honey buns, you've got so much to learn," Blair sighed, dragging me to the washroom.

"You're freaking me out! Why are we going to the washroom?" I squealed, completely unaware of what Blair meant when she said I've got so much to learn.

Learn what? Who'll teach me?

As soon as we reached the washroom, Blair opened her purse and took out her clown kit. Well, make up kit to be exact, but because clowns also use kits like that to look funny, calling it clown kit was better.

She hurriedly unzipped it, and took out a tiny box, which had some skin coloured powder in it.

"I thought you do your makeup at home. Why're you doing it now?" I asked, still thoroughly confused.

"It's not for me, silly, it's for you," she said, her eyes shining with a mischievous spark. Well, I think it was mischief. Mum told me that if a person's eyes get smaller than they usually are, and if even one of their eyebrows stick up, completed with a tiny smile, it means they're analysing you, or that they're planning to do mischief.

"Me? I don't want this powdery thing on me! It'll cause acne! Look at your face without it!" I yelled.

Blair's face turned red, and she stood there, her mouth open wide.

"I'm trying to help you here! Finally, just finally, when a hot guy decides to notice you and start conversation, it has to be your yellow day. You look like a minion morphed into a banana, for god's sake! I'm trying to help you, by making you look better, if the hot guy ever decides to speak to you again," she ranted her heart out.

     But I don't want to put make up! It feels so stuffy and suffocating and oily and so many other unpleasant things when I put makeup on.

    "But what if I don't want to get noticed? All I've been doing is get noticed because of my amnesia and now I don't want to get noticed for walking around looking like a clown because of makeup," I reasoned.

    "You won't look like a clown, Amber! Don't you trust me? Even a little bit?" Blair asked, with an inexplicable look on her face.

    "I do. But make up? I don't trust makeup. At all," I stated. Well, makeup was my #2 enemy (Luke's #1), because whenever I've tried it on, it's always managed to make me look like The Joker. Or Harley Quinn, and not in the pretty Harley Quinn way that every one dresses up like on Halloween.

    "Look, I don't give a flying fu—"

    "MY EARS!"

    "Ugh. Flying fish. Happy?" She corrected herself and looked at me as I nodded, satisfied.

    "I don't give a flying fish about you trusting makeup or not, but I will, I tell you, I will make you look pretty today," she said, raising her weird fluffy brush up in the air like it was a medallion and continued, "or my name isn't Blair."

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    "This is so embarrassing," I groaned, as Blair decided to make me a walking fashion parade.

    Blair, being Blair as usual, decided to keep my makeup destroyed face hidden from me till the end of the day. I probably look like a geisha dancer.

    "You think they're staring at you?"

Someone from behind me had crept up to my ear to whisper that. I'm pretty sure that that someone wasn't Blair. Unless, Blair somehow made her voice deeper.

My heart started beating faster, as it always does when I'm around the male population, and a mix of emotions overtook my like a hurricane.

I slowly turned around, and the person in front of me was the last one I'd wanted to see.

Peter.

That same really-good-looking guy, from today morning was walking behind me and has now taken my ear's virginity.

Suddenly, everything around me started spinning wildly, and at some point, everything I saw went black.

I'd fainted.

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"...going to be okay? Am I getting suspended?"

I could hear faint voices around me as I slowly opened my eyes. I was at the nurse's, which wasn't an unusual thing for me, because these moments keep happening to me whenever someone shocks me.

I thought it was only Peter in the room with me, because Blair didn't seem to be anywhere near me when Peter had whispered in my ear, previously in the hallway. But turns out Blair was present too, with a sour look on her face.

She probably noticed that I had come back to my senses, because she came next time, the sour look intensifying.

"You," she said, narrowing her eyes, "you should've told me that dream guy over here was Peter."

She was scaring me now. Who's this Peter guy I'm supposed to be knowing?! I don't remember any Peter. Well, I didn't remember my parents either after the accident, but that's a different case. I still don't understand how this...male being is someone I'm supposed to be knowing. I don't think I'd have been cool enough, before the accident, to know someone as good looking as him.

"Why? I don't know any Peter from before the accident!" I reasoned (or maybe yelled), "why are you making me feel weird now?"

"I heard my name. Anything I should be worried about?" Peter came striding towards our duo, with a grin.

"Oh, why don't you just go back to where you came from? Amber does NOT need the extra drama that you bring along. Now that you're all fit and ready to be Mr. I'm-so-hot-and-popular, I can only imagine how much drama Amber will be involved in, because of you."

Blair was being unreasonably mean to a guy I'd just met today. I was so confused by today's events, I couldn't wait to go home.

"Blair! Why'd you say that? That's so mean," I reprimanded.

"He deserves it."

Up until then, Peter was serene and calm. At least, he seemed so. But after he heard what Blair had to say, he started furrowing up his eyebrows, and pulled Blair away from me, to a corner.

What even?

Truth be told, this is a bit too much for me to process. I'd rather think about minions and Gru. I wish I had an army of banana-loving, mischievous, yet laughter-inducing beings to work for me like Gru does. I believe the entire story is a satire. You know...bad man gets influenced by someone good that's related to him and then becomes less bad. Definitely a satire. As a matter of fact, I've been working on a list of movies and cartoons produced for children, that are actually satires or a clear depiction of the horrors of the real world in a milder form. Maybe I should add this to the list. But truth be told I —

    "Amber! Peter doesn't deserve what I said, okay? He's a charming boy with a charming face and a charming personality," Blair yelled from across the room.

    What does she even mean by that? How did her distaste to Peter suddenly change?

    Oh, the wonders of nature!

   "Miss Fields, I believe you are alright now. You can head back to your class," the nurse said, making me get up from the clinic bed, and shoved me out the door.

    Well, that was rude.

   Oh, the wonders of nature.