Born of starlight and shadows

~Part seven: Hannah~

"You weren't kidding about needing extra help, were you?" Stella asks me in 7th period, glancing over my graded test.

"No, I wasn't," I reply.

I'm uncomfortable with her looking at the stamp on top of my paper: 43/100, so I flip my paper over. Her 91/100 seems to be taunting me. I wonder why she said yesterday that she wasn't smart. She definitely is.

"If it makes you feel any better, I studied for an hour," Stella offers.

I wonder why she bothers. Nothing she says will make me feel better, but at least she's trying. Surely that counts for something.

"Why would that make me feel better?" I ask. "You only had to study for an hour to get an A."

I know Stella can't know what's going on, but I expect she's at least a little suspicious. I don't know for sure, but anyway, I'm glad she continues to talk.

"Okay, so maybe science isn't your strong subject," Stella says.

"No school subject is my strong subject, Stella," I decide to point out. "I can never pay attention long enough to understand what in the world is going on."

"Hmm, well, you like music, right?" she asks.

"Sure, let's go with that," I say, not wanting to explain much more than that.

"Maybe you play an instrument or something?" she asks.

"Not really," I say. "I used to know how to sort of know how to play the piano, but I haven't practiced in a long time."

A really, really long time.

"Well, that's definitely more than I can do," she says. "I couldn't play an instrument to save my life. I remember once, in I think fifth grade, my music teacher taught us the notes or whatever, and I didn't understand any of it. She gave us a quiz, too, and I got a really bad grade. I was afraid to show...well, my parents."

"You can't be good at everything, you know," I say.

Stella shrugs. "I know. But it never feels good to fail."

I can't argue with that.

"Just because you fail at something doesn't mean you're a failure," I say. "My dad used to say that. He also said that mistakes are how we learn."

"I think you should listen to your own advice," Stella says.

I nod, because I know she's right.

I think of something else my dad told me once.

"You can't measure yourself, your life, based on the opinions of others who have no idea what it's like to actually be you."

I look around at the faces in the room and can't help but wonder what any of them think about me. To them, am I just another student? Most likely.

I wonder what Stella thinks of me. Am I her friend?

If so, I doubt she'll still be in a little while.

Usually, I am glad for the end of a school day, because it means I am free to see my dad. See that he's safe. And talk about the things that have been on my mind that I know no one else could understand.

Today I am dreading it.

In between the teacher's lectures about something relating to genetics that goes completely over my head-hmm, part of my brain notes, isn't that a song? But no matter, not now. I glance at my watch. And to the chair beside me, where Stella is taking notes. I wonder how her face might change when she learns the truth.