It was not easy being a girl with red eyes. Most people asked you what contacts you used, or why your mom let you wear contacts like that at such a young age. If you told people that is just how your eyes were, then they didn't believe you. She could have worn color contacts, of course, but she wasn't that big a fan of sticking things in her eyes. Instead, her answer was to dress a little more fashionably than the other children. Apparently, if they thought you were stylish, then red eyes became more socially acceptable.
She didn't have that many friends, mainly because other people didn't understand her very much. However, it wasn't as if she had no friends at all. She had friends, and she was rather well liked by her classmates, but it wasn't as if she was CLOSE to anyone. She existed in that nebulous grey space in school where everyone knew her by her description and was happy enough when she was around, but didn't go looking for her. When not directly in view, she always sort of just blended into the background. Which she supposed was for the best, it kept people from asking too many questions.
Today was a day for reading out on the playground. On hot days she preferred to read in the shade rather than get sweaty. Besides, she was in her new red pleated skirt and white top that her mom had made for her. Her dad always picked on her and called her his little fashionista, but he was a dad and that's what dads did.
However, the truth of the matter was she had begun to like her pretty clothes, even though they drew attention to her. Today was school picture day and once again she was sure that the school photographer would have such a hissy fit about the fact that her eyes were red. She could hear herself having to explain it again.
"No, it's not a problem with the camera," and "Yes, my eyes are really that color. I can't take out the contacts. Yes, I have a doctor's note." It was exasperating, and it happened EVERY TIME. You would think that there would be something in her school file about it.
So today she was sitting near a tree in the playground with a picture book that she enjoyed. Her shoes were too nice to run around in and she didn't want to get her picture clothes dirty. Mainly because she knew before the picture person left she'd have to retake them, because she always had to retake them. They would notice that her picture had red eyes and thinking it was bad lighting, they'd call her back to retake them. So she was having a moment to enjoy her book full of pictures of old buildings. This year, she wanted to be an architect. Her mother wanted her to be something else, but her dad told her to be whatever she wanted.
A shadow fell across her picture book and she wrinkled her brow in irritation when she realized that it was a people shaded cloud rather than a cloud shaped cloud.
"You are in my light," she said primly, refusing to look up. It could be one of the other fifth graders coming to see why she was under the tree. Even though she didn't really get picked on very much anymore, people were always curious about what she was doing if she was off by herself. There were some rumors about her that made her a little uncomfortable.
"You'll get sunburn," said a boy's voice.
She spared him a glance to determine which boy in particular was in the tree above her. Tom Mason, the boy who liked to climb trees; the boy who was always out there on the soccer field. "Tom? I think?" She continued, "You are in my light."
"You know my name," he said, a bit of awe in his voice, "No one ever remembers me. I'm kind of invisible. Just yesterday I had a classmate introduce herself to me. I sit behind her for math." He sighed and pushed a bit of the mop of brown hair he had out of his eyes.
"Yeah, I know your name," she said with a touch of irritation, "Now you are in my light. I can't play kickball or soccer or play on the jungle gym today. I'm in my picture clothes and I'm also in a skirt. I'd rather not have boys trying to peek up it if I started climbing." She would have accentuated it with a toss of her hair, but she had recently cut it in a bob at the behest of her mother who told her she looked like a little movie star. Mom's were embarrassing.
