by Liz
Fighting fractions by moonlight
Challenging teachers by daylight
Reading Shakespeare at midnight
She is the one named Sailor Pi
She would never forget a math operation
Or the rules of heat condensation
Pi is the symbol for a new generation
She is the one named Sailor Pi
She is the one named Sailor Pi
She is the one
Sailor Pi!
It was the summer before Bizzie's sophomore year in high school. The cool breezes reminded her that September was imminent, and soon the hiatus would be over. She walked curiously slow that afternoon, as if absorbing daylight savings time. 'I could really go for an orange soda right now', she thought then, and picked up the pace.
"One small orange soda, please," Bizzie said to the cashier at Wendy's.
"I suppose that's to match your hair?" She glanced at her auburn tresses and giggled.
"This hair contains no artificial colors or flavors. Everyone else should be careful, though; orange soda makes your hair turn red." The man wasn't listening, though, as he punched numbers into the register.
"That'll be 89 cents," he said. Bizzie fished through her curiously small backpack to find exact change, then handed over three quarters, one dime and four pennies. "I'll be right back with your soda," he said, scooping up the coins. While she waited for her drink, Bizzie glanced around the restaurant to see if anyone she knew was there. Just some tourists, she thought bitterly.
"Here you go, little girl." It took her a few seconds to realize that she was being addressed. "Pardon?" she asked, turning back to the cashier.
"I said, 'here's your soda,' silly little girl." The words shot right through her. Little girl. She couldn't even remember the last time she was called a little girl, let alone a silly little girl. Maybe her height hadn't increased in a few years, but surely her physical features had matured. Surely her voice had gotten deeper. It had to. She was going to be 16 on March 14th. That meant something, right?
'Where have I been for the past few years?' Bizzie asked herself as she blindly walked out of the diner. 'I've been reading books, studying the ancient mysteries of mathematics--" Just then, she felt herself bump into something, apparently a person.
"I'm sorry," Bizzie said, flustered.
"No prob," said a voice coming from high above her head. 'I actually have to strain my neck to see this guy's face,' she thought bitterly, 'Why haven't I gotten any taller?' She continued walking down Main St. until she instictively turned into the doorway of her favorite store, Details.
"Hi," the saleswoman said brightly, "Just so you know, this week we're offering free ear piercing with the purchase of any set of earrings." 'Ear piercing,' thought Bizzie, 'Why don't I have my ears pierced? I bet that would make me look older.'
"I think I'll try that," Bizzie said confidently.
"Great! Just take a seat in that chair and I'll be right with you. You can choose your set of earrings while I get the alcohol." 'This is so great,' Bizzie thought, 'I can't believe I never wanted this before, I mean-' Just then, she noticed a contraption on the table that resembled a gun, but on the tip was a place where only something very tiny would fit. The backs of the earrings laid out for her seemed so sharp... She rubbed her earlobes anxiously. They were of considerable thickness, surely there would be some blood, swelling, irritation for months... thoughts buzzed through her head to the point of insanity.
"I'm sorry, I... have to go," she told the saleswoman as she jumped out of the chair, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, "Maybe I'll come back another time."
"Okay, just remember, the sale is only on today."
"Yes, thank you." Almost running down Main St., Bizzie felt ashamed and disgracefully ignorant. Digracefullness was exaggerated when she tripped on her shoelace in front of the ice cream parlor, landing stupidly on the grass. 'I really am just a silly little girl,' she thought , 'I'm like Peter Pan. I'll never grow up."
"Bizzie?" She sat up to see a familiar teenage boy looking at her curiously.
"Kenny! How- how are you?"
"I'm.. okay," Kenny said, "Are you all right?"
"Oh, yes, just fine," Bizzie said, picking herself up, "I was... oh, I'm not even going to bother explaining myself this time."
"Okay," he said with a laugh, "I've known you long enough not to press any futher. Want to get a smoothie at Orangarama?"
"Sure!" 'I could really use a nice fruit drink to calm down the fiz from the orange soda,' she thought, 'I think it's getting to my head.' When they reached the juice bar, though, Bizzie was immediately reminded of her childish clumsiness when she bumped into a chair that was holding the door open.
"You okay?" Kenny asked her.
"Yes, of course, I'm fine. Just fine." After they ordered pina coladas (with orange juice mixed in, of course, because everything at Orangarama has orange juice- there's just no escaping it), the two sat down at one of the booths. Thoughts began to buzz in Bizzie's head again, and she could stand it no longer.
"Kenny, may I ask you something?"
"Sure... what's up?" She took a deep breath and chose her words very carefully.
"Am I in any way different from the way I was at the beginning of last year?"
"What?"
"Am I in any way different from the way I was at the beginning of last year? I want to know."
"Well, I mean... gee Biz, why are you asking that?"
"You didn't answer my question. Please be honest, it's important that I know."
"Truthfully, I think you've undergone a profound change this past year. Until then, you were so used to everyone making fun of you that you completely isolated yourself from society. You lived in Shakespeare's stories and the great theorems of mathematics. Do you remember that day in the forrest?"
"Yeah, I do," Bizzie said with a slight laugh, "I ran away from you because I didn't want you to know who I was, the outcasted math queen who spoke in Elizabethan English. But you knew anyway, and you didn't care. That meant everything to me." Her eyes suddenly became watery.
"Aww, Biz..."
"I can't remember the last time I cried," she said as a tear coming down her cheek, "Just another reminder that I'm still the childish girl that I was last year."
"I wasn't finished my thorough analysis of your metamorphasis," Kenny said in a professional voice. Bizzie grinned in spite of herself. "As time went on," he continued, "You shed a lot of the characteristics that separated you from everyone else. It wasn't a forced change- I know you'd never change yourself for anyone- but a natural one, one that had to occur at some point. You stopped saying 'thou' and 'thee.' You started listening to pop music, using catch phrases like 'awesome' and 'cool.' You even liked Leonardo DiCaprio, which I'll never understand of course. And yet you never lost intelligence, motivation, and the really special things that make you... Bizzie! We all become different sorts of people at some point, but you should not, for one second, be unhappy with who you are right now."
"That's probably one of the nicest things anyone's every said to me," she said, after taking in what had just been said.
"It's true, though." After a pause, he added, "It's been lonely without you this summer, Biz."
"Thanks! I- I've missed you too."
"Yeah, well..." Just then, 'La Vida Loca' came blaring on the speakers in the juice bar. "Ahh, Ricky Martin. Just what I wanted to hear..." He frowned slightly.
"Living the crazy life," Bizzie translated as she tapped her foot.
"Life is pretty crazy sometimes, you have to admit. Say, do you dance?"
"Well, I could."
"Therefore, I insist that you do."
"Here? Now?"
"Viva la vida loca!" Kenny sang.
"Okay, why not." She stood up and pulled him onto the "dance floor." Onlookers would have thought they looked rather clumsy and odd attempting to swing dance, especially to a song like this, but no one could deny that they were having the time of their lives.