Unwritten: Daily Docs: Brooklyn Pieper (continued)

Disclaimer: all characters in this short story are fictional/creations of my own imagination. Sights and locations are based on real cities/towns/National Parks located in the Western United States.

Chapter 16: Frank Smithers

“Chill out, whatcha yelling for? Lay back, it’s all been done before.”

Brooklyn Pieper stretched her arms over her head. Sokka, her eight year old Alaskan Klee Kai, lounged lazily at the base of Brooklyn’s bed. He opened his eyes to glare at her, as though she deeply betrayed him by setting an alarm. In Brooklyn’s opinion, Complicated was the perfect way to wake up every morning. It certainly beat the blaring, annoying beep and static of her radio alarm clock.

Avril Lavigne sang passionately from Brooklyn’s boom box as she got ready for the day. Her closet wasn’t as full as it probably should be. Most of Brooklyn’s clothes were either scattered around the floor or still packed away in boxes. Her dad had been badgering her for weeks about unpacking, but Brooklyn just couldn’t do it. There were mountains to explore, trails to hike, people to meet, coffee to drink. Those were many of Brooke’s excuses, and her dad just smiled and laughed at every one. He knew his daughter too well. Something would come along and force her to unpack. Eventually.

After twenty minutes, Brooklyn settled on an outfit: a pair of capri jeans with a loose, white peasant top shirt and strappy sandals. It wasn’t exactly couture, but Brooklyn was pretty sure she wouldn’t totally stick out like a sore thumb. The rest of her morning routine was pretty simple. Brush teeth, brush and style hair. Brooklyn was blessed with twenty-twenty vision, so she didn’t have to deal with contacts like most of her friends. She just had to tame her wild blonde hair, something her dad swears she got from her mom.

Brooklyn opted for a simple braid and side swept bangs that morning. She wasn’t exactly trying to impress people. Brooklyn didn’t really care what other people thought of her, but she did want to make a good impression. She wasn’t really worried about being a new girl either. Brooklyn was actually excited for school. She made friends easily, but it would help if half the school didn’t think she was some crazy nature girl just by looking at her.

Once her hair was down, Brooklyn said bye to Sokka and headed out to the kitchen. Her dad was already up, coffee and breakfast ready at the table.

“Good morning sweetheart,” Samuel Pieper looked up at his daughter, a wide smile on his face. He was one of those “hot dads” Brooklyn read about in magazines, a fact she was constantly reminded of. Kids and parents seemed to flock to all his guided tours or activities, and it was no secret why. Sam shared Brooklyn’s heather green eyes and a much more masculine version of her strong jawline and cheekbones. It was really his hair, though, that made the woman swoon, since it was relatively thick and dark for a forty year old man. “I didn’t hear you come in after your run.”

“I skipped it this morning,” Brooklyn admitted, grabbing a box of cereal from the cupboard. Her dad already had chocolate milk waiting on the table, “I’ll go with Sokka after school today.”

“If I get out of the ranger house early, I’ll come with,” Sam quickly offered, pouring just the right amount of milk in Brooklyn’s cereal. She smiled, happy their morning routine was still the same. “I still want to see the cave the two of you discovered right now.”

Brooklyn smiled. More than anything, she wanted to go on that particular walk with her dad, but he’d been working later and later hours. Ever since they arrived in Colorado, her dad was asked to work crazy busy hours, leaving early in the morning and sometimes not getting back until Brooklyn was ready for bed. A lot of days it was just her and Sokka, which was fine, but she really missed her dad.

“Look Brooklyn.” Brooklyn froze in her spot, a spoonful of chocolatey frosted flakes halfway to her mouth. Her dad used his serious voice, something he only reserved for very specific conversations. “I wanted to thank you. I know being a new kid as a teenager isn’t easy or moving to a new town.”

Brooklyn smiled and let out a sigh of relief. She thought her dad was about to deliver bad news, not thank her for moving a few states over.

She grabbed Sam’s hand from across the table, “It’s really ok dad. I’ve already signed up to join the strength team, and there's a high ropes course on campus. I’ll be fine.”

Her dad smiled, “I know, but if you’re not, you can tell me. Ok Brookie?”

Brooklyn squeezed her dad’s hand in response, her smile widening on her face. It was almost four months to the day her dad said he was being transferred to Rocky Mountain National Park. At first, Brooklyn was stunned and heart broken. Her dad had been stationed at Yellowstone and Grand Teton for eight years at that point. Yellowstone was the Holy Grail for National Park Rangers. Once you made it there, you never left. That’s why it was so shocking when Sam told her he was being transferred to Rocky Mountain and they would be moving to Colorado.

If Brooklyn was honest, Colorado was her favorite place of all the places they’d lived. She was too young to remember living in Wyoming, when her dad was working at Glacier National, but she lived in Jackson Hole for four years and West Yellowstone for eight. Both were great, but there was just something about Colorado that tugged at Brooklyn’s soul. It might not be home, yet, but she had no doubt it would be. Eventually.

“So can I tell my classmates where you work,” Brooklyn asked as her dad drove into Estes Park.

“Of course.” Sam wrinkled his face in surprise, “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know,” Brooklyn shrugged, now sheepish. She spent most of the night googling Park Ranger transfers, and discovered the most common reason for it was actually crime. If her dad was a member of the National Parks Law Enforcement agency, then it would explain the sudden move, both now and when she was six. “I just thought you might be one of those Special Agent Park Rangers, or something like that.”

Her dad let out a belly laugh, “Even if I was, you could still tell your friends. Besides, half of West Yellowstone knows I’m a Park Ranger Brookie. That definitely wasn’t the most covert way to handle things.”

Brooklyn laughed and felt at ease. As cheesy as it was, Sam and Sokka were all Brooklyn really had in her life. If she lost either one of them, her world would be destroyed. She would become a completely different person, and it was reassuring to hear the only criminals her dad chased were bears trying to eat people food.

Finally, they reached the school. Brooklyn watched kids pile out of cars, excited to see their friends for the first time in a while. There was a lot of hugging going on in the parking lot, and for the first time, Brooklyn felt nervous. She bit her lip and took a deep breath, reminding herself this was nothing new. It was just another day at school, nothing nervewracking about that.

“Hey,” Her dad stopped the truck and held a leather bracelet out in her direction. It was the same bracelet her mother gave him on their first date, and he’d worn it on his left wrist every day since. “For good luck.”

Brooklyn gingerly picked up the bracelet as though it were a sacred treasure. Sure, it looked like a simple strip of leather, but to Brooklyn and Sam, it was so much more. It was one of the few things they still had that once belonged to her mother, for however brief a time.

Brooklyn latched the bracelet to her wrist and kissed her dad on the cheek. Nothing could go wrong now, not as long as that bracelet was on her wrist.

“Love you dad.”

“Love you Brookie. Call me if you need anything.”

Brooklyn gave her dad a quick wave and headed into the school building. It was extremely different from any school Brooklyn attended, mostly because it reminded her of a sprawling college campus than a single building, generic high school. Classes were held in three different buildings attached by a series of tunnels or walkways, and the gym and all athletic facilities were located across the street. Lunch was held in a completely separate building a block away, where dorm and exchange students lived during the academic year.

Brooklyn remembered from her visit that freshman lockers were on the fourth floor of the main building. Sophomore and junior lockers were on the third floor and seniors had complete control of the second floor. Her class schedule and general school information was sent in the mail earlier that week, allowing Brooklyn to bypass the front office all together and head straight for her locker.

Brooklyn felt like she walked a mini mountain by the time she reached the fourth floor. The staircase just kept spiraling farther and farther up until finally there weren’t stairs anymore. Brooklyn was huffing and puffing as she casually tried to lean against a nearby wall, looking for support. Some mountain climber she was, she thought. She couldn’t even make it up four flights of stairs.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the climb eventually.”

Brooklyn jerked her head to the right, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Fortunately, her intruder, a girl, seemed more a friend than a foe. Brooklyn was struck, first by the girl’s height, then by her intimidating yet kind dark brown eyes.

“Skye Chenoa.” The girl held her hand out to Brooklyn, her voice low and crackled. “Sophomore.”

“Brooklyn Pieper,” Brooklyn took the girl’s hand and shook it. “New kid.”

Skye nodded, a knowing smile on her face, “Word of advice, take the stairs on the far side. You won’t get trampled by the masses and it won’t feel like you’re stuck on Hogwarts never ending staircase.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, hoping this was actually solid advice instead of some prank. “There’s no outlet to the second floor hallway from that side right?” A large smile broke across Skye’s face. Her dazzling white teeth contrasted her tanned skin and hair, which were almost the exact same color as her eyes.

“You’ll catch on quick.” Skye winked, “See you around Brooklyn.”

With that, Skye turned around and walked to a nearby classroom. Brooklyn just stood there and watched, wondering if Skye was a friend or enemy. She referenced Harry Potter, so Brooklyn knew she wasn’t totally awful.

After quickly stopping at her locker, Brooklyn opted to head to homeroom early, more to get a lay of the land and figure out where the classroom was. Most of her classes would be on the fourth or third floor of the main building, but her math and sciences would be on the second floor in the other building. There wasn’t enough time for her to find those rooms, but a casual walk through the fourth floor wouldn’t look too out of place.

Her homeroom classroom was the last one at the far end of the hallway, next to the very staircase Skye referenced earlier. Brooklyn looked down before entering the room, noticing it was void of any human life. It was the perfect staircase to avoid a crowd or be the victim of an upperclassmen prank. Still, she knew she would take it. Brooklyn was too curious for her own good, and if it meant being the subject of senior hilarity, so what. She'd recover. Eventually.

“Good morning!”

Brooklyn jumped away from the desk she subconsciously walked to and looked around her. When she walked in early, she assumed she was the only one in there, and it took a lot to sneak up on her. Like a lot a lot. The girl hiked in mountain lion and bear territory for crying out loud and lived with Sokka. Nothing ever snuck up on her.

“Oh I’m sorry!” A short man suddenly stood from a desk in the back corner of the room and walked toward her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you saw me when you came in.” Brooklyn shook her head, “No I’m sorry. I guess I was preoccupied with other things. I’m Brooklyn Pieper.”

Brooklyn held out her hand to the man she assumed was her new teacher. She suppressed a giggle when she actually saw him for the first time. He looked like a fifty year old, nineties rent-a-cop, complete with the Tom Sellick/Burt Reynolds mustache. He was even dressed in a blue collared dress shirt and khaki pants, further enhancing the look.

“Welcome Brooklyn.” The teacher took Brooklyn’s hand and shook it, “I’m Mr. Smithers, but you obviously know that, since you showed up in my classroom.”

Brooklyn smiled, “Yeah, I think I’m in your homeroom. Hopefully I’m in the right place.”

Mr. Smithers returned her smile and dropped her hand, “You are. Look Brooklyn, I know it can be awkward being the new person. My parents moved to Detroit when I was sixteen, so if you ever need anything I’m here for you.”

“Funny, my dad said the same thing,” Brooklyn replied, more to avoid awkward silence than anything. “About being there I mean. He didn’t move to Detroit when he was sixteen.”

Mr. Smithers laughed, “I should hope not.”

Brooklyn looked at the clock as Mr. Smithers moved back to her desk. There were still fifteen minutes until the first bell, and she doubted anyone else would show up to homeroom early.

“What do you teach Mr. Smithers?”

The teacher looked up from his papers, shocked someone was speaking to him. “Sociology and Psychology electives for juniors and seniors."

“Psychology,” Brooklyn repeated. “Like the study of how people think and behave?”

Mr. Smithers nodded, “Yes. I mean, there’s a little more to it, but that’s the basics. Have you taken psychology classes before? At one of your other schools?”

Brooklyn shook her head, “No, but I’ve always been interested in that stuff. My friends think it’s really morbid, but I watch a lot of crime shows and read a lot of books about criminals and their thought process. When I wasn’t climbing mountains that is.”

“You know, we sometimes let sophomores take the psych portion of the class. It’s supposed to be for upperclassmen, but if the student proves they can handle the coursework, we sometimes let them take psychology and then do health as an independent study.”

A real smile spread across Brooklyn’s face, one that actually reached her eyes. It was the first time she felt truly excited about anything since she moved to Colorado, other than the potential for adventure with each morning walk. These types of options didn’t exist at her school in West Yellowstone. Sure, she could choose between band, choir and art, but all other classes were required and assigned. Electives didn’t really exist outside music and art.

“Is that something you might be interested in?”

“Yes,” Brooklyn shook her head vehemently before realizing she probably came off as a little overenthusiastic. “I mean, that would be a great opportunity that I’m definitely interested in.”

“Then I hope to see an essay from you in the near future.” Mr. Smithers gave her a knowing look before glancing at the clock. “I’ll head back to my desk now. No sense looking like the teacher’s pet on the first day right?”

***

“Good morning everyone.” Mr. Smithers stood at the front of the class arms crossed across his chest, a wide smile on his face. It was the first day of the second semester, and the man was excited to get back to work educating the youths. “Welcome to the second semester of Sociology and Psychology, a class designed to make you think.”

Most of the class groaned at Mr. Smithers bad jokes, but not Brooklyn. She was just excited to be there as one of only two sophomores allowed to take the advanced class.

“Now remember kids,” Mr. Smithers walked across the room and assumed a Captain Morgan stance on one of the empty desks. “You all chose to take this class. No one at this school is forcing you, which means this won’t be like your other classes. Psych won’t be like ‘socsh” or whatever you youngin’s call it. So if you’re here for the easy A, I recommend you submit a schedule change.”

“Wow, Smithers become a hardass over winter break or something?”

Brooklyn looked over at Skye and chortled under her breath, “I don’t think anyone has ever put the words Smithers and hardass in the same sentence.”

Skye chucked and the two of them turned their attention back to the lecture. Brooklyn never would have guessed the sophomore would become her best friend, but a year and a half after they met at the top of the staircase, that was the case. Skye Chenoa was like a big sister Brooklyn never had. Naturally sly yet kindhearted, she helped Brooklyn navigate the complexities of Estes Park High School, and Brooklyn in turn helped bring out a side of Skye most people didn’t see. Skye dressed and looked like a bad girl, but she was a softy at heart, something Brooklyn exposed in droves.

“In this class, we will learn how the mind works,” Mr. Smithers continued, ignoring Skye and Brooklyn’s side conversation. “This is just a basic intro course, so you won’t be profiling for the FBI any time soon. Criminal psychology and forensics won’t be offered until next year.”

Brooklyn looked over at Skye, her eyes wide with excitement. After years of being the odd woman out, Brooklyn finally found someone as fascinated in crime as she was. It was actually one of the first things the two girls bonded over, their mutual love for Criminal Minds. Wednesday night featured weekly watch parties at Brooklyn’s house, both so Skye could get her Sokka fix for the week and escape her crazy family life. The oldest of five kids, Skye often took care of her younger siblings while her parents worked and spent her weekends volunteering at the local police station. There wasn’t exactly much crime in the Estes Park area, but Skye always claimed it was great practice for her future as a member of the FBI Indian Country Crimes Unit. That was one of the many reasons she took this class, and she didn’t have to work hard to convince Brooklyn to join her.

“Alright now that the scary part of the class is over, let’s go through roll call.” Mr. Smithers grabbed a clipboard from a nearby empty desk and handed it to a student. “Right your name and the answer to the icebreaker question on a single line. I’ll introduce each question at the start of class, so you have some time to reflect before the clipboard gets to you. Failure to do both will result in an unexcused absence, so make sure you fill out both portions.”

A couple seniors rolled their eyes from the back of the classroom, but no one objected. This wasn’t something Mr. Smithers ever did in homeroom. He just read through the list of names on a sheet of paper and checked off whether or not anyone was there. Usually, he finished this before homeroom even started, but it was his way of giving the stragglers time to wander in. No one was late of tardy in Mr. Smithers homeroom, even if they showed up right as the period was ending.

“We’ll start with an easy question today,” Mr. Smithers turned to the dusty chalkboard while the first row of students filled out the sheet. “What was your favorite part of winter break?”

Half the class filled the sheet out before it reached Brooklyn. She wasted no time writing her name and answer to the quirky icebreaker question, but paused to look through the names. Most of them were upperclassmen, names Brooklyn recognized from sports or student council races, but there was one name that caught her eye: Susannah Marketon, a fellow sophomore.

Brooklyn handed the clipboard off to Skye and subtly looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, a petite girl with a pixie cut was sitting in the back corner, sitting in the very same desk she occupied during homeroom. Her nose was inches from her notebook, her attention focused on the page in front of her. Brooklyn figured she was doodling or drawing since that’s what she did in homeroom every morning. Susannah was quiet and kept to herself ninety percent of the time, but Brooklyn liked her. Susannah had spunk and didn’t try to hide who she was, something Brooklyn appreciated.

“Parker Allenton, would you like to fill us in on your conversation with Shirly, or can we get back to class please?”

Brooklyn’s head swiveled away from Susannah and onto the boy sitting in the way back corner of the classroom. Parker Allenton was the school stud, and not just because of his wavy sand brown hair, gold green eyes or the fact he started growing facial hair at the age of fourteen. No, Parker Allenton was hot because he was the only hockey player in the school, and he got to leave two hours early each day to train with a club in Fort Collins. According to Skye, hockey was gold at Estes Park High School for a variety of reasons, the biggest one being it made Parker a god amongst men. Anyone could play football, she explained to Brooklyn early in their friendship, but not just any person could wake up early, train and practice for two hours, go to school, drive an hour for a three hour practice and do the whole thing all over again the next day.

“You can just ignore us Mr. S,” Parker responded with a quick smile. “We’re just discussing my daily struggle to keep my super ego in check around beautiful women.” Shirly swooned. Skye scoffed. Susannah doodled. Someone whistled, and another guy groaned. Mr. Smithers rolled his eyes and made some psychology joke about the id, but Brooklyn wasn’t listening. While everyone else was busy praising or chastising Parker’s statement, she was locked in a staring contest with the boy, his eyes really as golden and green as everyone claimed.

Brooklyn thought about looking away, but her competitive side kicked in. Someone had to beat the slick hockey player at his own game, and if Brooklyn couldn’t do it on the ice, she was more than happy to do it in the classroom. She got the feeling she was the first person to ever challenge the boy. A wicked smile spread across his face when she didn’t immediately break eye contact, but Brooklyn held on.

Finally, Parker blinked, and a sly smile crossed Brooklyn’s face. He nodded at her in defeat, clearly knowing he’d been beat. Satisfied, Brooklyn turned her attention back to Mr. Smithers and the lecture, oblivious to the impression she made on the hockey captain.