"Hey! Watch where you're spraying!"
Abbie giggled as she let loose with the hose in her hands, the crystal-clear water gushing forth in a hurried stream that made it precipitate. "Whoo! Make it rain~~!"
Frederick muttered as he shied from the drizzle, realizing to his chagrin that it wouldn't do much to protect him from the torrent - not when in the hands of someone who found amusement with having a hose in her possession. Were it not for the fact that he was in his school gym clothes - white cotton T-shirt and blue sweatpants - he would've found more reason to be upset by the careless sprays.
"At least tone it down. You'll get us all soaking wet."
"Aw, is little Freddie afraid of a splash fight?" Abbie mocked, donned in the same outfit as him except with shorts as was distributed to the female student population.
In contrast to the boy, Amelia shared some of her amusement as she rose from an open hatch. Though taken aback by the sudden rain, the young brunette took it in good humor. "Hey, if this is a splash fight do you think there'll be water guns around here?"
"Oh I believe that can be arranged if I can make room in the club budget," cheerfully sang Lipponen from the side. "In fact, I know some good military-themed water guns. They're considered real collector's items!"
Amelia beamed. "Yay!"
"Uh, guys?" Frederick interrupted as he gave the two an unamused stare. "We still got work to do."
A stream of water whizzed by the boy who quickly ducked with alarm. "Oh ease up," defended Abbie. "No need to be so serious. Gotta find enjoyment if we're gonna break our backs."
He grumbled but chose to say nothing as he wrung his cleaning rag, letting the grime trickle to the ground. With a rag of her own in hand, Amelia climb out to take a breather, taking a glance to her side.
Parked where they were since yesterday, their collection of tanks now found themselves hosts to their club members that cluttered over their exteriors. With hoses, rags, and mops in hand the tankery club was busy as bees giving their assigned prizes a good makeover. With so many tanks to work over, the club had divided the labor amongst themselves, their selection an insight into their choices.
Between the pair of Type 15s, the Landzaats, Mariah, and the Seamers went to work tending to the light tank twins. While the Seamers worked as a team on one, Lukas, Wilheim, and Mariah refurbished the other. Already both groups seemed fond of the boxy toy-like tanks.
Next to them, where most of the ruckus could be traced, Wyker and his gang made the Type 25 light tank the nexus of excitement and activity. A team of four with just one tank, the Type 25's refurbishment became rife with singing sea chanties, exaggerated encouragements delivered with gusto from Wyker, and of course errant and wild applications of their water hose that made their side resemble more a water park.
Lastly, the Type 29 found no definitive owner but quickly found a consistent caretaker in Rebeka. Though tied to no group or informal team, she tackled the lone task with diligence. None had expected a subdued girl such as herself so committed. Thankfully a hand was periodically offered so Amelia rested easy knowing she would not be burdened alone.
Speaking of alone… As Amelia shifted her gaze further to the side, she made out the diminutive form of the Type 36 Light Tank A. It sat exactly where it had rested before, untouched - literally. No member accompanied it, no hands tended to its care. The tiny tank was left without a team, no doubt brought upon by its underwhelming appearance.
And now here she and her friends were. With the tanks assigned for cleaning (and informally assigned) by the other club members, the "founding members" were left with the Type 37. Amelia didn't mind the decision, seeing as how it was their very first tank and the one they were most familiar with. Even Lipponen endorsed the decision, watching them care for the vehicle with proud eyes.
Wringing her rag dry over bare dirt, Amelia too shared some of her teacher's excitement. Cleaning the inside was hard, tedious work in the cramped innards of the metal tank but every second of work was also a second of discovery and learning. It was an experience that no education or tutor could rival, even if Amelia could hardly understand any of the components inside.
A hatch swung open with barely a creak, Katrin emerging from within the tank with a sigh of relief from her dust-covered cheeks. "Whew! That should be the interior taken care of!"
"Tell me about it," muttered Daniel as he crawled out from the same hatch Amelia climbed out of, his clothes in a similar smudged state as his partner. "Way more nooks and crannies that I would've liked."
He looked around, his eyes meeting others'. "So, uh, how's it going?"
A jet of water spattered in his face. It caused him to jump with a start, nearly tripping over from the open hatch as Abbie cackled. "Gotcha~!"
Daniel gagged. "W-what the-! Oh come on…!"
Seeing her friend doused brought an amused snicker from the Schimdt girl. "Hey, look on the bright side. You got to wash yourself off of all that gunk."
"But that's what the laundry's for," the boy whined as he fiddled with his drenched gym shirt, cringing at the sensation. "At least give me a heads-up next time…"
"Aw, where's the fun in that?" Abbie pouted. Then her expression brightened like a light-bulb. "Tell you what, how 'bout this?" Then before anyone could object, she pointed the hose right at herself and a concentrated geyser rushed out. Abbie's cheers and whoops came out all bubbly and distorted. By the time she was satisfied and the stream drying up, she was drenched from top to bottom. Rain dripped from her auburn hair and clothes.
"Phaw! See? Now you won't feel bad, Danny! So we even?"
Daniel shied his eyes away, unsure of what to make of it. "Um… sure."
Abbie laughed, finding a good joke at her own self-inflicted predicament. Amelia couldn't help but smile at the feisty girl experience the uncomfortable sensation with glee and stride. She giggled to herself in good spirits, now caught in the positive aura.
Then Amelia realized she could glimpse through Abbie's soaking wet T-shirt that the good feeling fluctuated, spiking and sinking like her heart rate as the collective butterflies in her stomach fluttered at the sight of another girl's "you-know-what". She flustered from the inexplicable queasy sensation, remembering a similar feeling she had in the changing room. Amelia briskly turned away to clear her head before anything could get awkward.
She watched as the tankery club went to work on cleaning up their tanks, the rustic garage now seemingly transformed into an informal car wash. From a distance, she hardly made out individual figures, their details disappearing in the collective boorishness that were the school's gym uniform.
And more than that, the accursed tanks dwarfed them all. The watcher quietly cursed at the collection, having multiplied greater than she had anticipated. Their size and presence stood out, upstaging their appearances that made their attendees mere ants by comparison.
More distressingly, overshadow everyone and everything else. Lion Paw's spotlight would be robbed by the tankery club and their ugly gargantuans.
Annabelle Victoria Nelson will be damned to allow that to happen.
Only when the brows were wiped, rags squeezed dry, and the water turned off did the collective sighs of relief be felt. Still damp and dripping from corners still unreached, the tanks nonetheless appeared shining and vibrant, their skins bereft of a smidge of dirt and the blue tint sparkling in the afternoon sun.
Lipponen gazed upon the vehicles with joy, her euphoria escalating at the sight of the pristine tanks. But she reserved a portion of her delight for the hard-working club members who, although slouched from tiredness and made filthy from their work, marveled at their own efforts. By each tank, there lay the ones whose hands and toil had ensured their restoration and in turn, the students looked upon them with certain pride.
The club advisor strolled to the twin Type 15s. "Everything all good over here?"
"Everything looks to be in order," Lukas answered.
"Thanks to our dear Mariah here," Wilheim complimented, much to the meek girl's embarrassment.
"I-it's nothing. I-I just did what I could," she nervously stuttered.
Rachel hopped off from the other light tank. "Oh I'm already raring to take this bad boy out for a spin!"
"She's a gal, Rachel. A bad gal but a girl nonetheless," added Zak who emerged from behind the tank from his final close check-ups. "But other than that, I'm with ya. That Type 37 of yours was beautiful but this one's got humble charm to it. Can't wait to take her out for a drive, see how she moves."
Lipponen gave the two groups a smile, jotting notes on a clipboard - names and what tank - before moving on, meeting Wyker as he heroically stood by the Type 25, looking better than ever. "I see you've all done a good job with this tank."
"Thank you kindly, miss!" Wyker enthusiastically accepted with a proud grin. "After all, it'll be our barge!"
"Even better since last I checked, there's enough room for all of us," added Cindy with delight.
"Still wished it was a bit roomier," complained Nina. "Cuz right now, it's less of a ship and more of a… Uh-"
"-Dinghy?" Tina suggested.
"I knew you'd say that," her twin sister quietly commented.
Now Lipponen moved onto the last tank that had been worked on, the Type 29. But she was surprised to see only Rebeka by the tank destroyer. She had witnessed a multitude of hands come by to help work on this vehicle but the most common she had seen were Rebeka's, and it seemed that in the end it was only her who desired this turtle-like tank destroyer. She sat alone on the vehicle's upper glacis plate.
The teacher approached her. "Um, is everything…?"
Rebeka glanced up and catching her sharp gaze, an uneasy feeling started to brew in Lipponen's gut. Tentatively, she continued. "I, uh… how's it going, miss Wulfstan? Is the Type 29… er, that tank all good?"
Rebeka simply nodded. "I had help."
"... T-that's great!" Lipponen tried to maintain her smile under the girl's stare. Her serious eyes and cold demeanor ironically made the interactions a bit tense, hot enough that the teacher felt her composure melting from this student's presence.
"U-um… Hey, since you're all by yourself… Why don't you j-join Zak and Rachel over there?"
Rebeka merely glanced to the side. "... Don't think they'll be comfortable with me around."
The teacher stewed on the response before receding back to concede to her point. "I… I see. Well, I-"
The Wulfstan girl's eyes then shifted, their aim now diverted behind the teacher. Her subtle motions intrigued Lipponen to follow her gaze. She turned around, unsure of what to expect. But she certainly didn't expect to see a flock of students approaching the tankery club grounds. The unforeseen procession captured her attention as she wondered to what purpose they had to encroach their club. Lipponen's thoughts wondered if perhaps they were interested in tankery.
But the idealistic theory turned sour once she noted a certain student, ahead of the rest as if their leader, her grouchy disposition spelled out on her visage.
They closed in, the silver twin tailed girl advancing with one impatient step after another. Their arrival was quickly realized by the rest of the club, rising one by one to greet the visitors with curious and anxious stares. Recognizing herself as the sole adult around, Lipponen quickly stepped in. "Um, hello there. May I ask who you are?"
The girl, her uniform modified to be fanciful than normal, gave the teacher a dismissive eye. "I am Annabelle Victoria Nelson, exemplar student and prima donna extraordinaire. We of the Theatre Club are here to discuss the closure of the tankery club."
The cat caught Lipponen's tongue. "I… I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me!" Annabelle proclaimed as she put hands on her hips. "I have arrived to oversee the abdication of your repulsive troupe!"
Lipponen recoiled in offense. "H-hey! I wasn't informed of any such closure! Who gave you the authority?"
Annabelle puffed out her chest, complete with a smug look. "Why me! I am the one and only Annabelle Victoria Nelson after all! Now, if you will pardon my intrusion my dear educator."
Briskly stepping past the dumbfounded teacher, Annabelle advanced on to the open lot. By now, all eyes and ears were on her, her brief clash with their advisor already sending shockwaves. The tankery club stood in assembly, unsure of how to meet this peculiar pest.
Annabelle stopped, eyeing the members who made up the club all filthy and sweaty. The self-important girl curled her lips in disgust at their appearances.
"Eugh! P.U. where did you peasants all come from, the pigsty? Timothy!"
"Yes Ms. Nelson." Suddenly on cue, a messy-haired boy appeared by Annabelle's side. His dirty-blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and boyish freckles made for a strange image to this student of Lion Paw. Bowing slightly, a hand spray was swiftly summoned and delivered to the girl's impatient hand. Annabelle marched forward, engaging the spray onto the tankery club who flinched with annoyance.
"H-hey, what gives?!"
"You stink! You all reek of high heaven, the which even they cannot surpass the likes of I, Annabelle Victoria-"
Further speech was cut short by an untimely stream of water that ran into Annabelle's face. A hose was gripped tight in Abbie's hands, her visage twisted in a snarl at the snobbish interloper. "Why don't I spray the pompous attitude outta you!"
Sputtering, Annabelle's mood further soured. "Agh! Eugh! I just had my esteemed school uniform washed and ironed this morning, you uncultured oaf."
"And there'll be more where that came from!" Abbie threatened with the hose.
"Ha! Fortunately for me, I have my loyal Timothy to tend to me! He'd so gladly take your pitiful streams to the face if it meant protecting me, isn't that right?"
"Er, yes that is right," replied the messy-haired boy, her demeanor devoid of liveliness despite his serene tone and strange smile. "I would be willing to take a splash for you Ms. Nelson, my er, Greatness Incarnate. (Provided there's a changing room I can dry off. Oh it's such a drab brushing my hair and drying my skin and cleaning the dirt under my fingernails and…)"
"And besides… I have the complete backing of Lion Paw National High School's Theatre Club behind my back!" added Annabelle, her soppy outfit suddenly forgotten as her impudence surged back to the fore. "What can your meager band do against one established years before you were ever enrolled, with traditions honed by generations of craft?" she sang, injecting as much flair and mockery she could. "Your tanks are but mere rust-buckets of a by-gone era, subject to the delusions and mercy of history and art!"
By now, the mood among the tankery teams was visibly simmering. Expressions of discontent and disapproval soon gave way to mimicking Abbie's agitation. Wyker and his gang began to make their way to confront their aggressor whereas others held firm - restrained, but not without shooting Annabelle their glares.
Frederick quickly swooped in to constrain Abbie before she could do further damage with her hose. "Hey, back off of me!"
"No, Abbie, no! You won't accomplish anything if you-"
"I said, back off!"
Amelia swiftly cut across in between Annabelle and her club members, trying to dissipate the heating temper with her hands. "H-hang on everybody. I know this is frustrating but there's no reason for us to pick fights!"
"That's some real balderdash right there, lady," growled Wyker. "Not how we dealt with punks back in Arcadia. We ain't gonna take this standing!"
"Aye, aye!" his gang chanted.
"But it isn't right," insisted the Gunther girl. "If we stoop to her level, we won't get even, we'll just make things worse."
"Hear, hear!" taunted Annabelle. "The girl is right. It will only get worse for you, my second-hand actors. Except for the part of stooping to my level. I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson, am positively above you all! Oh-hohoho~!"
Lipponen's shadow immediately fell over her as she tapped on the girl's shoulder. "Um, I think you should leave. As a member of the faculty staff, I-"
"Not now, ma'am. I am not done basking in my illustrious personality~."
Seeing the teacher's gawking confusion, Timothy leaned close to privately explain. "What Ms. Nelson means is she has a huge ego that she'd like to get through before she can do anything else."
Amelia groaned. "Oh for…" But having turned to face the mocking Annabelle, Amelia noticed the Theatre Club behind her. With all attention having been drawn to the self-absorbed girl, she noticed how her escort seemed to stand without full confidence in the background. Between awkward side glances and insecure fidgeting, Annabelle's support seemed rather uncommitted; they stood behind her and yet Amelia questioned if they had her back…
"And look at yourselves. Do any of you even know a thing or two about greatness?" Annabelle continued, brushing her hair with a superior air. "I doubt any of you can appreciate the fine art of acting and flair, let alone the boorishness that is tankery. I mean, do any of you fools perchance know anything of your own craft?"
"Um, I'm standing right here…" Lipponen muttered.
"Hmm, I suppose you do have a point."
All eyes turned to the one who spoke, stunned looks from the tankery club and even a surprised glance from Annabelle who couldn't believe the acceptance coming from Amelia Gunther. The surprise turned sweet as she giggled, her recognition of the young girl from their earlier encounter fueling the sense of irony. "Oh my! Is that right?"
"Yep!" Amelia replied with a friendly grin. "In fact, we're all new to this sort of thing so we'd like all the help we can get. And you sound like someone who knows a thing or two about tankery! Is there any nugget of wisdom you can share with us?"
Annabelle tried to conceal her fluster with a wave of her hand. "Oh please! There wouldn't be much that you'd understand from someone such as I!... But since you flatter me so, I suppose I have no choice but to humor you. I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson, shall lend you my fables of wisdom! Ask away!"
"Great!" Turning to point at the tanks, Amelia began. "What's the best way to wash a tank?"
"Simple! Mere water won't do so make sure to use pearlescent shampoo! Worked wonders for my pristine hair so it should work on them too."
"Oh, I see!" Amelia applauded. "What about… how should we get rid of rust and dried muck? They're such a pain to remove."
"Easy! You… wipe that rust off with soap and sponge! What's a damned spot but a mere blemish to wipe away? And just take chisels and hammers to chip away that muck!"
"Oh! Annab- Miss Nelson, what's the name of that tank? I don't know and I think you do."
Annabell's smug grin held but it twitched. "Why, that's the… Tanky-Tank III, finest and latest in its lineage. Silly you!"
Amelia maintained her cheerful demeanor but as it was becoming more evident that it was a mask. "Oh wow… I don't think any of us could be as knowledgeable as you Ms. Nelson~. I'm not sure we could do anything without you!"
At this, Annabelle could only puff with pride, relieved that the complicated questions were now over.
"... Say, why don't you join the tankery club so you can teach us? We'd be so very lucky to have you by our side!"
Annabelle laughed. "W-why that would be such a grand offer for someone of my caliber. I suppose if you insist then I shall since I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson, am so charitable. I sincerely expect you lot to be braced for my tutorship!"
"Great!" Lipponen appeared by her side presenting a clipboard in hand. "Now please sign here and we'll get you started."
Snatching the pen out of the teacher's hands, Annabelle saw to it that the deed was done in a flash. "Now that's out of the way, listen up. There's…"
She paused, blinking. "... Huh?"
Annabelle blinked again but Lipponen already retreated in a merry trot, the clipboard wrapped in her arms with another name to the list of participants. Her jaw dropped even more when it swiftly dawned on her what happened.
"P-preposterous!" she exclaimed. Further words came tumbling out as she fumbled for a response before she settled with accusing the girl standing before her. "... You tricked me!"
Amelia clapped her hands with glee. The smile she donned for her scheme never left her face. "Welcome to the tankery club, Annabelle!"
The blonde angrily glared at the Gunther girl. "Don't you dare slander me with such words! I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson, am already partaking in this institute's prestigious Theatre Club!" She whipped around, her dagger-like gaze now upon the aforementioned club still gathered behind her. "Well?! Is that not the truth?"
They flinched from Annabelle's stare but their fear cast no confidence in the question. The members of the Theatre Club exchanged silent glances and whispered concerns before one among them finally summoned the courage to speak for them. An older girl stepped forward, an apology written over her face. "Um… no, it's not."
Now it was Amelia's turn to look surprised. "Huh? What do you mean?"
"The truth is… she's actually not an official member of the Theatre Club," the girl explained sheepishly. "She just… hangs around. And we play along just to humor her. To tell you the truth… I think she's just lonely."
The revelation sent shockwaves. In unison, everyone gasped. But the stunning surprise was nothing compared to the absolute shock a certain Theatre Club "member" underwent in its mention. Annabelle's jaw hit the floor, her shrieking pitch reaching an all-new high, and even for a briefest moment her twintails and hair ribbons jolting to life as she screamed. She frantically confronted the Theatre Club member, now as a madwoman. "No, nonono you did NOT just say that-!"
Suddenly, the girl pushed back, sending Annabelle tumbling to the ground. She sat stunned, her hand on her chest as though grievously hurt - a mark of shame of having been forcibly struck.
"Just… leave us alone, please!" The girl's demands came almost as a plea. "We let you stay with us because we thought you at least had the spirit, but now we can't take it anymore! We're done letting you push us around, acting like you're our boss! We never even wanted to get involved with your whole grudge with the tankery club…"
She paused to take a breath. Behind her the Theatre Club did their best to look innocent, perhaps out of guilt of the inadvertent role they all played.
"Sorry we dragged you all into this mess," the Theatre Club girl apologized, her eyes to no one in particular. "We'll… be leaving now.
"... And Annabelle, just… stay away for the time being. Please think about something you want to do for yourself."
Wrenching her eyes away, the exchange was marked over. Seeing her turn away, the rest followed like dominoes, the departure final as the Theatre Club slowly shuffled back towards the school building. No words were parted, not even from the tankery club who stayed stunned throughout the whole exchange. They remained standing on uncertain ground, unsure of where they even stood in the matter.
Amelia watched in tight-lipped silence as their guests faded in the distance. With them gone, attention resumed back to Annabelle who sat where she lay, unmoving and unresponsive even as Timothy, the only one who remained behind, knelt down by her side. His hand lay gently on her head. "There there, Ms. Nelson. Try to look on the bright side - I'm still your favorite punching bag…"
Annabelle stayed listless save for lifeless grumbling as she shifted into a curled position, her head buried in her knees and arms. The luster in her eyes had been lost. Her silky hair drooped low like her mood, fallen far from the summits of her hubris; the star of her own show fallen from grace to plummet to the pits of despair. In one moment, her whole life had been turned upside down, an episode of self-serving triumph instead a humiliating defeat. If she could, she would shrink further to escape the sense of shame.
It tugged at Amelia's heart to see the once-boastful person be reduced like so.
Annabelle remain staunchly apathetic, barely acknowledging a presence beside her, let alone a new one behind her. "... Annabelle? Hey, can I say something?"
"Mmmrgh," was the muffled reply. Amelia's voice continued.
"At first, I wasn't sure what to think of you. When we first met, back at the club fair. You remember, right?
"Well, back then my first thought was how bombastic and ridiculous you were, stomping up to us with your frilly dress and jewelry. I thought it was a pretty weird get-up. And with the way you introduced yourself to us, it definitely made you look like a drama queen."
Annabelle sunk her head lower. Even Timothy was spurred into action. "Hey, please don't talk down to Ms. Nelson like so. She really doesn't appreciate it when people talk poorly about her like that."
"But, here's the thing!" Amelia quickly added. "I never met you but I never forgot about you. Everything I saw then was something that no one would ever forget. I saw a spirited girl who knew how to make lasting first impressions that would always stick with others. The first time we met, we already got an idea of who you were.
"... Annabelle, I think that's a neat gift you have. Even for someone not in the Theatre Club, you know how to make a lasting performance."
Timothy blinked in surprise, his strange demeanor finally cracked to show his unexpected astonishment. And likewise so too did Annabelle as she finally roused from her impassivity to look at Amelia with wide eyes. A sliver of light twinkled in them. Her throat was too choked up to utter anything more than hopeful squeaks.
"Do… do you mean it…?"
Amelia nodded. "Yep!" Rising to her feet, she extended a hand. "So how about it? If you can't join the Theatre Club, would you like to join us instead? And don't worry, we're all new to it, so let's learn together!"
Annabelle's visage began sparkling before she was instantly upon the girl in a flash, their hands clasped and eyes level as the two agreed as equals… For about a moment before Annabelle seemingly remembered who she was before her expression recovered its haughty demeanor. "H-hrm, I suppose I have no choice but to take you up on the offer. I would've preferred to pursue the arts and drama as my extracurricular, but I shall consent to the mere coarse practice of tankery instead! Be sure to treat me well as it is I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson!"
"Me too. Oh I'm so anxious to join," murmured Timothy who joined Annabelle's side. "So much dirt and muck and looking at all that metal makes me dread about my fingernails. But I'm certain she'd kill me if I'm not with her."
Amelia exchanged a look with Lipponen. "O-okay that makes two new members," the teacher noted. She held the clipboard up. "Annabelle Nelson and Timothy…"
"Peron." The boy retained his dreamy, almost cherubic quality.
The pen finished its last stroke by the time Lipponen acknowledged with a nod. She turned to face their collection of tanks, an idea already forming in her mind. "Well then, since you two are now officially members of the Lion Paw tankery club, you'll need a tank. How does the Type 29 sound?"
"The what?" Annabelle inquired.
Amelia directed her gaze with a point of her finger, upon which the faces of Annabelle and Timothy brightened upon seeing the low but bulking form of the tank destroyer. They trotted up to it, looking over the tank from top to bottom with untrained eyes that only saw strength.
"Ha! To give us a potent steed, all thanks to my charm! Isn't that right, Timothy?"
"Yes, you very much are charming, Ms. Nelson."
"Oh-hohoho! Hear this, my fellow lesser classmates! While I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson, am humbled to join you, know that I have been bestowed a mighty metal steed that shall deliver us to victory! Consider yourselves all fortunate that I am entrusted to-"
Annabelle's stream of words dried up the moment a black-haired girl stepped forward. She looked to see who it was that dared to interrupt her speech, but upon making eye contact Annabelle found herself conceding to a premature end.
Lipponen's smile was oblivious to this as she gestured to the girl. "Annabelle, Timothy, this is Rebeka Wulfstan. She seems to have a liking for the Type 29 so you'll be working with her. Say hi to each other!"
"... Hi," murmured Rebeka.
Instead of a reply, Annabelle leapt behind Timothy. The two squirmed and shrunk from the girl's gaze. "Eeek! Timothy you fool! Protect me!"
"I-I want to hide behind you too, Ms. Nelson!"
The teacher remained clueless as she strolled away, happy with having scored another two members for their roster. She strolled past her club as they gawked at the sight of their new team with dubious, if amused stares.
"Guess we won't have to kick her ass for what she did," muttered Rachel.
"Yeah, I think Rebeka's got it handled," Cindy added with a satisfied smirk.
Wyker snickered. "Heh. Lucky her…"
Though relieved to see the incident resolve amicably, Abbie pouted in disappointment. "Boo… Coulda blasted her with the hose."
Amelia sighed in relief. She was glad that in spite of the trials, tribulations, and even the unexpected turns the day was saved and everyone got off on a positive a note as possible.
'Positive a note as possible…'
She wouldn't be the first to admit that the situation was dicey at first, with Annabelle invading the club with her slanders and stuck-up attitude. And she certainly didn't expect that it would result in a fair bit of drama (pardon the pun) that swept Annabelle to her low. Helping her back up was done out of sympathy and she hoped that everyone else would have the heart to let bygones be bygones.
"You look worn out, Miss Gunther." Glancing up, Amelia was met with their advisor's caring visage over her. She tried to hide her state with a small smile. "It's not so bad. At least washing the tanks was fun."
Lipponen wasn't fooled one bit but nodded in understanding. "Yes, today's club activity was engaging and fun. But I think we can agree that it was also full of surprises. Who knew that we'd get such a visit? Such thing I didn't expect, let alone one who held a grudge against us all this time…"
A sigh from the brunette. "Sorry. I guess I should've expected that she'd try something after the club fair."
"No no, it's alright! Don't blame yourself for the unexpected, rather… you know what, Miss Gunther? I must say you did a fantastic job handling the situation."
Amelia looked up. "Huh? O-oh, about that…"
"Tricking her like that was… unexpected of you," Lipponen chuckled lightly as Amelia blushed slightly. "Let me guess, you figured she wasn't who she claimed to be and leapt at the chance to have her join."
The girl turned away, looking into her motives. "I… knew that we'd need more members at some point. And… part of me did want to do something about her attitude. I knew violence wasn't right, but I had to do something for the friends we have.
"But after seeing the Theatre Club ditch her like that… Maybe I was responsible for what happened so I just-"
"Followed your heart I see." Lipponen put on a tender smile. "You weren't wrong to do so. It's what compelled you to spring to my help in forming the tankery club. You may not necessarily think your problems through (I've seen your progress reports after all~~) but you certainly know what's right."
Amelia flustered at the remark. "M-Miss Lipponen…!"
The teacher laughed in good spirits. "But that's what makes you special, Amelia. I believe it's a good thing about who you are. As your teacher and acquaintance, I only ask that you keep doing what you do best."
Amelia blushed as a warm feeling graced her heart. "Thanks."
Silence fell before a new thought popped in Lipponen's mind. "Oh right. Forget it's already the end of the week. Time certainly flies, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, it does. Almost forgot about it too. Not sure what to do over the weekend…" As Amelia pondered, staring ahead she could see the tankery club mingle: the current members still in their dirty gym clothes, chatting of sundry topics and expectations; the new team slowly integrating to the humor of many. Annabelle persisted in taking the mantle of her newly-assigned tank, her bluster repeatedly kept cowed by Rebeka while Timothy found himself sandwiched between the clashes of their new partner and his "queen".
Capturing it all within sight, Amelia realized how lively the club was. Only over a dozen members but the atmosphere seemed brimming, alive. Many names and faces in a conglomeration, united in their extracurricular interest.
They were ready and so were the tanks, all cleaned up and just waiting to go.
The same thought reached Lipponen when she approached the group, clapping her hands for attention. "Great job, everybody! I know it must've been tough and you're all tired, but thanks to you our tankery club is prepared! All that remains is for us to finally ride them and learn all about the sport, and that'll be where the fun begins!"
Faces, weary as they may be, found the encouragement to brighten up with cheers and relief. Any second guesses they had of partaking in the unusual extracurricular activity that had promised action and excitement dissipated at the acknowledgement of their efforts. Soon - very soon - they will be making good on what was promised. Their hands will be on the gears and feet on the pedals, the loud roar of cannons soon to grace their ears and hearts.
Lipponen continued before anyone could rest too easily. "However, there is only one more thing I would like you all to do over the weekend, as homeworks of sorts." A faint chorus of groans were heard at the mention of that infamous word. The teacher snickered at the expected reaction. "Don't worry, everyone. It's just a simple task of deciding who gets to do what inside your tank. Crew assignment is essential to tankery; without it, your tank won't move or fight. In tankery, the crew means everything!
"So here are your packets that'll give you a brief description of what those jobs are. I have some spare copies so let me know if you'd like one," she added, procuring a stack of stapled paper from behind her to hand out. "Please get together with your friends and make your decisions. Next time we meet up… that's when we finally get to do tankery!"
The apprehension of classwork turned into genuine interest once the teams each got a packet. The club shifted as members cloistered around the handful of assignments given, the teams once again defined and displayed for all to see. They each murmured plans and possibilities that would only discover over the weekend.
As Amelia pondered over the packet given to her, her friends gathered by her side. "Lemme see, lemme see!" Abbie begged.
"Patience, Abbie," chided Frederick. "We have the whole weekend to look through it and figure things out."
"Hm, there's five of us," noted Katrin. "We all have each other on our contacts list, yeah?"
Daniel faltered. "I think…?"
"Why don't we find a place and time to meet up in person?" Amelia suggested. Abbie brightened up at the idea. "Oh! In that case let's get together at Freddie's place!"
The tall boy shot her a tired look. "Why me specifically?"
"'Cuz my room's ain't spick-n-spank as Mr. Smarty-pants here," she ribbed.
"W-why not my place instead?" offered the young Gunther girl. "If no one has a problem with that then-"
"Eh. Fine," Abbie shrugged. "Looking forward to seeing what Amy's room is like!"
Daniel glanced away in memory of something embarrassing, a secret apparently shared by Katrin who noticed the boy's furtive aversion and stifled a hushed chuckle.
The late afternoon sun soon began casting long shadows. Everyone could feel the time, the conclusion of another club meeting and school day upon them. With their work assigned, the students began making their way out, faint talks following behind their shuffling feet. Many were eager to return to their dorms for a deserved weekend break, albeit not before a much needed change of fresh clothes.
Amelia too looked forward to some rest but found herself stopped by Lipponen's hand on her shoulder. "Oh, Miss Gunther, do you have a moment?"
"Y-yes?"
"With the topic of task assignment still fresh in my head, there's something I'd like to discuss," their club advisor began. "Plus… there's something that's been on my mind, ever since we got this club up and running."
Looking at her with more confusion than ever, Amelia complied to listen, wondering just what was on Lipponen's mind. She wasn't sure what to expect.
A rapping knock was heard on the door the next day. In an instant, Amelia became all sunshines. She happily trotted to the door, her mind without a shadow of doubt as to what the knocking meant.
She swung open the door (but not before fumbling the lock open) and was greeted to the appearance of Daniel and Katrin. The curly-haired girl was quick on the greeting. "Yo!"
"H-hey," Daniel meekly followed up.
"Good morning you guys!" Amelia welcomed. "Come on in, you're right on time."
As Amelia stepped aside to allow them entrance, she took a second to look over their new appearances. With the break from school, the sentiment was made manifest with two stark contrasts: where the grounds and halls were rife with herds of feet shuffling and swinging to and fro, now they lay mainly bare with only a few to roam those same domains against the swirling backdrop of autumn. The indoors likewise were bereft of feet and hurry, the atmosphere relaxed and tranquil.
And where the uniforms of blue made for a flowing tide within the school walls, they now gave way to a kaleidoscope of casual wear. Scanning her two friends, Amelia saw their mix of Lion Paw-branded jackets and weathered jeans. A cap decorated with pins and buttons rested on Katrin's head. Compared to her own set of loose shorts and timely mascot-branded T-shirt, Amelia felt she was rather lacking in casual expression, even if it was her own.
The two stepped inside, taking off their shoes before entering the bedroom. They glanced around, the layout predictable for a student dormitory shared and lived in by many. Their curiosity instead went toward seeing how this space was characterized by their fellow peer.
As much as she looked forward to inviting her friends over, Amelia fidgeted shyly. This was the first time she had new friends of her own come over to her dorm room, to see the dwelling that reflected the fifteen-year old Bruhler girl. Their eyes swung left and right, fields of view crisscrossing like searchlights as they took in their new surroundings.
"Huh. Nice setup you got. Simple but fitting."
"Y-yeah, it's nice."
Katrin snickered. "Glad there's no lingerie lying around, Daniel?"
The boy spontaneously squealed, burying his red face behind his hands as his friend bursted out laughing. At the same time, Amelia blushed at the implications. Her mind wondered just what transpired outside her perspective for the two to share such "interesting" memory.
More knocking caused all three to stop. A familiar voice rang out, muffled but loud enough for there to be no doubt on who it was. "Yo, Amy! Open up, your pizza's here!"
The door was opened in earnest and Abbie's mischievous smirk appeared on the other side. Dressed in a vibrant hoodie jacket and pocket-ridden shorts, her vibrant personality could now be brought to life outside of class. A hand lightly slapped her shoulder, revealing it to be from Frederick who chided his friend. "Keep your voice down. It's not like Amelia wouldn't be in her room." Turning towards the boy, Amelia was taken aback by his choice of wear on a relaxing weekend. While he wasn't immune to the weekly freedom from school dress code, Frederick had insisted on a thin buttoned shirt and long trousers for the occasion - "school casual" if there ever was such a thing.
Seeing their host standing before them, Frederick cleared his throat. "Anyways, we're here Amelia. Sorry we were a little late."
"It's fine," Amelia assured. "Katrin and Daniel had only just arrived so that's everyone. By the way, where's the pizza? I like mine with extra large cheesy crust!"
Abbie and Frederick exchanged looks, beads of sweat subtly spawned from the nonsensical response. The Stark girl gave a nervous chuckle. "Um, Amy? I was only joking about the pizza part."
The brunette's shoulders dropped low like her spirits. "Aww. And we could've had a pizza party..."
"Another time," assured the boy. "But I did bring a brunch for us to share," he added, lifting a small plastic bag. "Anyways, may we come in?"
"Oh! Sure!"
Guiding the two in, Frederick and Abbie quickly encountered Daniel and Katrin who waved hello. The newcomers greeted back in return before quickly settling themselves down. With the bag in hand, Frederick sought out Amelia. "Hey Amelia. Mind if I use your kitchen?"
"Um, sure." Permission granted, the boy swiftly moved for the kitchen where he set the bag down to begin unpacking, ignorant of the young girl's surprised stares. Never in Amelia's life did she think she'd witness a robust boy who cared about his tuition also be so willing for something as effeminate as cooking.
Frederick paused to realize Amelia's intrigued stare. "Um, you're welcome to help out if you want. I may need your help on where you keep your stuff."
"U-um, sure!"
Meanwhile, Abbie roamed the dorm room, busy in motion as her attention brought her all over to poke around her new environment.
Out of the corner of his eye, Frederick took note of her behavior with an incredulous expression. "Abbie, what're you doing?"
"Looking around. What does it look like I'm doing? It's not often I get to check out another person's room." Humming as she went, Abbie wandered the bedroom, exploring with inquisitive eyes as much as she did with her hands.
"Can't possibly imagine why you don't get that chance often," Frederick scoffed with a shake of his head.
"You shouldn't be one to talk Mr. Wife~," taunted Abbie as she continued her hands-on self-tour of Amelia's room and belongings much to their owner's discomfort. Amelia followed after the audacious girl with a nervous gaze but with her hands full with helping Frederick, found herself unable to catch her from digging too deep. Thankfully Abbie kept what few discoveries she made on the hush, sharing only discreet glimpses of her findings with the girl, her reactions a source of amusement to Abbie.
Thankfully for their host, Abbie proved merciful with her discoveries and eventually her boredom soon caught up with her as she soon looked for a place to sit down. With the bed occupied by Daniel and Katrin, Abbie descended upon the vacant chair, plopping down on the seat as if it were her's.
From the kitchen, Frederick peered back up again. "Why don't you all get comfortable? It'll only be for about five minutes 'til brunch is ready."
"'Kay," replied Abbie as she fished out a handheld console from her jacket. Amelia recognized it as the classic PlaySystem in iconic matte black, of a model that was a generation behind if she could recall.
Behind her, Katrin fumbled about in her own pockets to pull out a small portable radio, its plastic surface dinged and dented in some places. "Hey, you guys okay if I tune into the radio? Put up something to listen to in the background."
Amelia permitted with a nod. "Sure. What kind of radio is that?"
"Oh just a junk that still has juice," Katrin answered as she clicked the device on. "Had it a few years back for me to tinker with on my own time." Her finger rolled the volume wheel until scratchy sounds began emanating from the speakers. It was faint at first but as the radio warmed up they began to clear up into coherence.
"-other news, continued overcast clouds over Fouzen as the north winds carry some heavy precipitation. Expect some light to mild rain within the next 72 hours, wind speeds to pick up to about fifteen to twenty kilometers per hour… to the next report, tonight the Glory of Speed Twenty-… roaring momentum as tonight, world-class racer Bzzt! -two eggs; not one, not three, just two 'cause that's just right~. Next…"
"Oh, right. Still need to figure out why it changes frequencies on its own." Katrin scratched her head. "Hopefully it's not haunted."
As Katrin's old radio filled the air with tinny voices, Frederick and Amelia arrived with plates where a modest assortment of food lay prepared, a promising variety for a brief interlude. Their arrival seized everyone's attention as they laid their brunch to rest on a small round table in the center.
"Alright, dig in everyone! But not too much 'cause you still got lunch after."
"I swear Freddie, you really are a freaking wife." But the snide remark was undercut when Abbie quickly stuffed her cheeks with dinner rolls.
Amelia instantly took notice. "Hey, leave some for me!"
"Make sure you don't forget your vegetables," the Potter boy reminded. Seeing the host of fresh produce made Abbie quietly roll her eyes before she reached for another toasted bread loaf. Daniel and Katrin partook in the snacking, their ventures into the edible greens provided by Frederick a suitable cover for the feisty girl.
Katrin's radio continued to play in the background. "... topic of the Europan Union persists as the Federal Republic of Moskau, acting on the behalf of eastern Europa, sent delegates from Schwartzgrad to the Atlantic Federation in the hopes of joining the Bzzt! -yeah, that's pretty intriguing, Ted. I wouldn't expect for things to turn out like that, but what does the missus know?..."
As she munched, Abbie's eyes drifted towards Amelia. As they did, Abbie noticed the bright-red bandana so often tied around the Gunther daughter's collar. A common sight but not one for her mind.
"Hey, so it just hit me. What's the story behind that bandana?"
"Oh this?" Amelia peered down at the crimson cloth, pinching an edge to unveil a faint pattern embroidery sown into the fabric. A sense of nostalgia twinkled in her eyes. "It's a present from my mom, back when I was little. She said it would protect me, just as it did for her when she was around my age."
"Huh. Passed down from your parent," remarked Abbie.
"Which, according to my mom was from my grandmother," Amelia continued. "Which according to her came down from her mom and probably so on."
"It's that old?!" Frederick gasped with incredulity. "Never would've thought it just by looking at it!"
Amelia giggled. "Yeah, hard to believe isn't it? Even after wearing it day after day, it always comes out good as new. It even comes out of the washing machines all fine despite all the hustle and bustle!"
Everyone was in awe at the fact, struck unexpected by the surprising history that a mere cloth held. From where in the past that certain red handkerchief came from, no one could be certain. But knowing Amelia's lineage, there was little doubt that the mysteries surrounding that red cloth's origins were special.
The brief pause proved the perfect opportunity for a zipping sound to fill the void. All heads turned to see Frederick retrieve a stack of paper - Lipponen's assignment - and other ancillary material from his bag. The casual weekend air that accompanied the five shifted once the Potter boy reminded everyone of the reason they gathered.
"Alright, let's look through this." Frederick cracked the stack open, flipping open the first page. He cleared his throat as he began to read aloud. "'In tankery, the tanks are the main attraction but the people remain the star of the show. Only with a crew can a tank move and be brought to life.'
"'But a crew is more than just tankery participants - it is a team. Tankery will not be like Glory of Speed where fame goes to individuals. Rather, it is more like any other sport: everyone pulls together to win together. Everyone will have to perform specific tasks in order for a tank to be brought to life. Those tasks can fall within the following roles:'
"'The Driver, as expected, is responsible for the tank's movement. He or she serves as the tank's feet - they tell the tank where to go and how fast to get there. Without wheels, a tank is without life or energy.'
'The Gunner is entrusted with the duty of operating the tank's main weapon. Not all tanks may have the mightiest cannon, but it is still their means of knocking out another tank. In tankery, victory comes from a team's ability to knock out their enemies, and sometimes a skilled gunner can turn the tide with a single shot.'
'The Loader works with the gunner by handling the shells and ammunition of a tank. While the gun of a tank is the lance, even the most powerful of guns is nothing without someone to load them. A cannon without a loader is a cannon that stays silent, and a silent cannon is one that doesn't win tankery matches.'
'The Radio Operator handles the tank's communication equipment. Not only do radios connect a crew with each other, they connect them with crews of other tanks. In that way, they are lifelines in a tankery team, and the radio operator is responsible for maintaining those lines.'
'And finally, the Commander is the one who is entrusted with the most important task of all: to be the leader of their crew, telling them what to do. A driver moves the tank, but only when the commander tells them; a gunner aims and shoots, but only with the commander's permission. To be a commander is of utmost responsibility, for their decisions determine how well their crew and tank will do. Some commanders may also be a leader for their whole tankery team, so they must be extra vigilant.'
'So there you have it, Lion Paw Tankery Club! Those are the five roles that goes on inside every tank. Keep in mind some tanks may not have enough people to do every job individually, some tanks may even have duplicate roles. If you'd more details, please turn to the next page and find your tank…'
Frederick paused as he proceeded to do just that, flipping ahead a page. Images of other tanks and their descriptions flew past in a blur as he quickly scanned their assignment until…
"Ah, there it is," he announced, coming to a stop at a certain page. Lowering the packet for all to see, all eyes zeroed in on the recognizable image of their tank (copy-pasted straight from a search engine) and the name plastered in bold above.
"The Type 37!"
"Says here that the Type 37 has a crew of five," noted Frederick. "So there'll be just enough for us to fulfill each role. Okay guys, so who wants to-"
"Ooh, me! Dibs on gunner, I so want to be gunner!" Everyone flinched from Abbie's sudden outburst, her hand raised high as she hopped up and down almost as if she could reach the ceiling.
The reception was uncertain, save for an eye-roll from Frederick. "You, gunner? I'm not sure if that's a good-"
"Oh you are not gonna keep me from that big gun! I wanna wreck house with that thing!"
The boy could only groan at Abbie's insistence (plus the implications behind her desire to "wreck house" as she so put it). "Ugh. Fine. Can't imagine you with another job like being the commander or, god forbid, the driver… Speaking of which, who wants to drive?"
As he asked, his gaze naturally drifted towards Daniel and Katrin. The two immediately noticed the stare and understood the intent. They glanced aside, rubbing the backs of their heads.
"Well, Daniel and I did drive those tanks back when Ms. Lipponen delivered them," Katrin began, stating the obvious before anyone could. "... Okay Daniel. Rock-paper-scissors over who gets to drive the thing."
"I-I'll drive!" Daniel blurted out. His uncharacteristic assertion attracted curious stares and realizing this, the boy reverted back to his usual meekness as though a switch was flipped. "I… I-is it okay if you guys, um for you guys if I got to drive…? I… I feel like that's s-something I can do."
Nobody was sure what to make of Daniel's wish and even Katrin could see it was unusual. But at the same time, she saw that it was genuine. She shrugged her shoulders. "Alright, he can drive. Sure beats having to talk. Speaking of which, I can do that. Last I checked, that radio set looks pretty rad for something so old."
Frederick let out a content hum as he jotted the roles in his head. "Alright, so Daniel will drive while Katrin works the radio. Having you two next to each other is a bonus… Hmm. For myself, I'll be-"
"Yeah, I think we all know what you'll be… ya muscle man," Abbie teased as she leaned close to pinch his arm. His skin barely budged, accentuating her point. "Don't think I forget how much you made loading all that heavy stuff a breeze."
"Uh-huh. Riiight," the boy muttered. But he didn't dispute her prediction, and looking at everyone's faces they were all thinking the same. The vote was unanimous. "Alright, I'll be the guy who handles the heavy lifting. Truth be told, I think there's only one place in that tank that I can fit comfortably."
"So that's gunner, driver, radio op, and loader taken care of," Amelia mused. "And now that leaves…"
No one interrupted her but as she fell silent, Amelia became slowly aware of the looks directed her way. It took another moment for the implications to hit her. "W-w-woah, me?! As the…?!"
"Not really what I had in mind for you either, if I'm being honest," admitted Frederick. "But it's the only role not yet taken and you're the last one who hasn't been assigned one. And as weird as it sounds, I think it's a job for you."
"You did rope us all into the tankery club if I'm not mistaken," Katrin added with a small laugh.
"Plus the way you trolled that sucker Annabelle," added Abbie. "'Oh~ I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson, was so dumb to get suckered in by simple flattery~!' That was kinda funny thinking about it."
"I… I guess…" murmured Daniel.
"So how about it, Amelia? I know there's going to be a lot on your shoulders but we can help out. If you want, we can-"
"W-w-wait!" Amelia frantically interrupted. "I… I'm not sure if I'm cut out for that job!"
The brows of her friends shifted with perplexity. "What are you saying?" Frederick asked. "You're the one who practically kickstarted the whole tankery thing."
"Aaaand you got us involved to help Teach," reminded Abbie.
Amelia sighed. "I-I know that I got you all into this thing, and I did say I was sorry for getting you stuck in without thinking. But it's just… I'm not sure if I really am the right person for being in charge. You're all my friends, but I just don't think I have what it takes to tell anyone what to do. I… I think out of all of us, Frederick should be the commander; he's responsible!"
"But I'll be the loader," the boy objected.
"You'll still be able to tell us what to do, won't you? That's what the commander does."
Frederick sighed. "Okay. Then what're you going to do?"
"There's that back seat in the turret, isn't there?" Katrin pondered, stroking her chin. "Didn't see any sort of controls but that seat has a lot of viewports."
The Gunther girl snapped her fingers. "Er, yeah! I remember that! You've got a pretty good view of everything from up there. I think… I can just see help out by seeing what's going on! Like this!" Amelia imitated the glorious act of scouting with hand-binoculars to emphasize the point. Abbie sputtered at the childish pantomiming while Frederick silently grumbled.
"Alright, guess I'll be taking charge as well as handling the ammo. Not sure if this is legitimate, but do we have any objections?"
Both Daniel and Katrin readily shook their heads. "No, no issues here."
"Freddie in charge? Ehhh… sure," Abbie conceded. "Don't like getting bossed but if it's him I'll let it pass."
Their newly-entrusted leader sighed in his inauguration. "Alright, guess I'll be the head honcho while Amelia keeps watch. Hope Ms. Lipponen is okay with this arrangement… And by the way, Amelia."
The girl flinched into attention. "Yes?"
"Since you've recommended that I be the commander of our tank, that means I'll be telling everyone what to do, including you. I'm your boss now, got it?"
Amelia snapped a salute. "A-aye aye, captain!"
Laughter broke out, the humor breaking up the otherwise serious mood. Even Frederick could not resist giving in just a little to the occasion. Fetching a pen and clicking it awake, he jotted a hasty note on their packet to record today's results. Gunner for Abbie, Driver for Daniel, Radio Operator for Katrin, Loader for himself, and Commander-
… Also for himself, with Amelia the dubious role that Frederick simply labeled as "Lookout". He still wasn't sure about the viability of such a menial job, let alone what their advisor would think of it. Still, he had to wonder…
Amelia suddenly stood up. "Oh right! I forgot to call my mom! I promised her that I'd call over the weekend. So uh, I gotta step out."
"Mmhm. Hab a gud 'ne," Abbie replied with cheeks full of bread. Amelia promptly loped out of the room, taking care to close the door shut behind her. Though the sudden departure of their friend had sapped some of the room's spirits, the affect was only a brief pause before the mood picked back up again. The brunch became steadily more and more bare, the tinny voice continued to crackle from the radio, and idle talk began to be struck up among those that remained.
Frederick's gaze lingered towards the door that Amelia departed through, intrigued by her sudden need to excuse herself. He still wondered about the motives on why she wished to avoid the responsibilities of being their commander, still feeling the disappointment from the unexpected decision.
But as much as he pondered, it wasn't long until he turned away, bringing his focus back to the friends with him (and to rein Abbie in who was now busy conspiring with Katrin in finding ways to embarrass Daniel stuck between them).
Before anyone realized, it was as if nothing had happened.
Amelia found her opportunity of seclusion out in the hallways, the fuzzy carpet soft and the walls glowing warm in the light. Out here, she was all alone.
Then she sighed as she leaned against the door. The cellphone was clutched in her hand but it remained silent - it was there just to make the excuse more convincing.
She felt guilty about having to lie to her friends, even if it was an innocuous deception. But she felt more guilty with her choices.
They were right: she was the one who got them involved in this. Tankery was something she nor anyone had barely heard of and here she was, the "founding member" shirking from the chance. The chance beholden to someone like her, the progenitor of the tankery club.
A Gunther…
Amelia sighed again as she reflected on her avoiding such an important responsibility. Truth be told, this was not the first time she had been suggested such thing.
Her eyes widened at the suggestion. "... M-me?!"
"Mm-hm!" Lipponen nodded. "Every club has their president or elected leader or de facto representative or, um, you understand what I mean. As much as I adore leading club activities as your advisor, the tankery club is in need of a student as leader. We need someone whom the members can follow and someone who has our interests at heart. Someone who can be a real people-person.
"And… after seeing your selflessness and ability to reach out to others, I feel that you are the best candidate for the task."
Amelia looked worried. "Um, what would I do?"
"Many things," the teacher admitted. "As your teacher, I'll handle most of the complicated things. As for being leader of the tankery club, your job would be to organize meetings, club activities, and once we start learning for real, practices! Leaders of tankery teams oversee training, make sure everyone's doing okay, and more importantly, be the one in control during matches."
"I-in control during matches?" the teenage girl repeated.
"Well, yes. Sports teams all have a team leader. Tankery is no different. During practices and sanctioned matches (especially during tankery matches!), everything will be in your hands. But don't worry, it'll be fun! It's not like we're going pro, we're just doing this for fun!
"So how about it, Miss Gunther? Would you be up to the task?"
Amelia quickly averted her eyes. "I… I'm not sure."
"Er, it was merely a suggestion!" Lipponen hastily assured. "Of course, as nice as it would be for my first member to be the leader, i-it's entirely your choice!"
The girl did not immediately respond. Her lips pursed and unclasped as if searching for words, her thoughts. Her reticence was striking.
"... I don't know if I can handle all of that. If it's right for me…" Her reply came almost as a whispered confession. "I've never done anything like this before. I just know how to be a friend, not some boss… leader type of guy…"
The teacher's shoulders slumped with disappointment. "Will you at least think it over…?"
Amelia hesitated again. "I-I'll think about it…"
With a comforting smile, Lipponen nodded. "Well, have a nice weekend!"
Amelia nodded, her expression brightening back up as she turned to leave, eager to catch up to her friends to join them in the weekend liberation from school. She picked up the pace, running headlong towards the paltry but valued days that promised respite. By contrast, Lipponen did not move. She watched as her pupil vanished from the club grounds. Seeing her so eagerly depart, the teacher felt gratified to see a young girl live her life; she wanted nothing more than the youth to live unburdened.
But at the same time, she couldn't help but feel sad for the Gunther girl who turned down the offer. Lipponen knew she could not force a student against their wishes, but she had hope for the brave girl that saved her dream. Hope that someone special as her would realize their gifts, to rise to the challenge to see what they could be capable of. But fear had warded Amelia away. She saw it in her eyes. Something kept her from taking the bold step. As much as she desired children to live without fear or worries, Lipponen knew that those days would not last forever. One must eventually learn to face those challenges, to realize their future. Even she knew that Amelia Gunther had one, a future that lay for her, somewhere.
She hoped that a bright potential awaited her.
As she closed her eyes, Amelia hoped the same.
She would have to make her own choices; she will have to find her future; she needed to face up to the choices she's made. Justify the expectations placed upon her.
Such a misfortune, to be born a Gunther.