Of Smoke and Dust 🖋

Chapter Nineteen: a missing piece, an accusation, and a new player in the game

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Present

June 7th 2021

8:16 AM

Maia stares at the minute hand of the clock.

It's black, stark and easy to see against the white face. It's just passing the number three.

Tick.

Chatter. Laughter. Shouting. Hushed whispers.

Tick.

The teacher, at the front of the classroom, behind her desk. She, too, is talking - with Jessie, if Maia is not mistaken. Jessie always has questions, because her work always has to be absolutely perfect.

Jessie's homework is probably her best friend, Maia thinks, the words a scathing hiss inside her head. It's not like she has any real ones.

(Jules doesn't count. Maybe she's never counted.)

Tick.

The door is open. Outside of the classroom, the halls are crowded, full of students attempting some last-minute socializing before first period starts.

Tick.

Two minutes, now.

A red shirt. A red backpack. A boy with orange-red hair who almost fooled her but didn't.

Where, thinks Maia, her hands tightening around the corner of her desk, is Renata?

Tick.

___________

There is no Renata Flint in class today.

Her usual seat is empty. Like Leonie's desk (uncomfortably avoided by pretty much everyone, out of respect or fear or something else - probably a desire to conform), Maia can't seem to help how her eyes dart to it every so often. It doesn't change anything. She knows this. It won't.

But -

(But sometimes, at Leonie's desk, a girl with blonde hair and a bright smile waves at her cheerfully. And now, at Renata's -

Well.)

Mrs. Hobbs covers both Social Studies and English (one in the morning and one in the afternoon), and she has a tendency to switch around which order she teaches them in at random. This morning, English is the topic of choice, which Maia supposes she's grateful for. It's always been Maia's favorite class, so when questions are directed at her, she's able to answer them. Still, her responses are bland. Her fingers have been curled around the edge of the desk so long they've gone numb.

Where is Renata?

She's not sick. She would have texted something if she was.

Would she, though?

Renata despises Maia. The feeling is mutual.

(The feeling might be deserved)

Wouldn't she get joy out of knowing she'd one-upped Maia? Tricked her, deceived her - and Maia, like a fool, had fell for it.

She is supposed to be better than this.

(Who is she? Renata or Maia?)

ticktickticktickticktock

Mrs. Hobbs finishes her review of last week (the week Maia practically skipped the entirety of, at least mentally, although she can't bring herself to care) and walks to collect a stack of yellow papers from her desk.

Maia blinks.

What are they doing again?

"Remember, we only have about twenty minutes left of class, so we'll be finishing this tomorrow too." Reassures Mrs. Hobbs as she moves through the rows of desks, passing out the papers.