Gifted

Chapter Six

“A society manufactures the heroes it requires.”

― Colson Whitehead, Zone One

. . . .

Susan

I watch that couple walk down the street, knowing Ellie is watching them too. It’s almost a relief when the bus finally pulls into the intersection and we’re on our way toward Academia Heights, away from this very visual reminder of what Ellen and I probably can’t have.

I sigh and lay my head back against the seat, closing my eyes, my mind going quiet for a while...what a relief. Out of the blankness, though, comes the same face, just like always, and like always, it bothers me.

Olivia.

Olivia and I were best friends all through elementary school and the first part of junior high, but now in seventh grade (junior high for us runs years six, seven, and eight)...we’re not anymore. I don’t really want to think about this, but there’s still thirty-five minutes until we reach school, so I relent and let the memory come back to me:

It’s September of last year and Olivia Robinson is standing by the water fountain during passing period, reading the daily announcements off of the bulletin board nearby. She smiles at me as we walk past and Ellen waves back. Watching Olivia, I almost don’t remember how to wave. Olivia’s eyes find mine and a tingle of heat rushes through me: milk-chocolate brown, deep, sparkling...I find myself unable to look away from them.

“Hey, girls,” she greets us.

“Hi, Olivia!” I say, feeling my face go crimson as I notice how overly-eager I sound. Oh god, do I always sound like that when I’m around her?

She brushes her short dark red hair out of her face as she stretches up on her toes to read a line near the top of the page—Olivia is...vertically-challenged, shall we say? I think it’s cute, but Olivia hates it when I tell her that.

She reads: “Attention all who wish to try out for intramural football: If you are interested, please see Mrs. Henderson in room 204 after school any day this week.”

She considers, eyebrows raised, tongue sticking between her lips. I can practically see the gears turning in her head.

Oh crap. She wants to join, doesn’t she?

Turning to us, she tilts her head thoughtfully. “Do you think I could play football? There are girls on the team right now, you know,” she says.

NO! I think immediately. The mere thought of it makes me cringe, and I shake my head. Most of those guys are HUGE and some of the girls are pretty big too...

“No, I don’t think so, Olivia, I don’t want—I mean, you’d probably get hurt,” I quickly cover. Olivia smiles at me.

“I think I can handle myself, sweetie,” she says, her tone a bit cool. “But if you’re really concerned, then I won’t.”

I can’t tell if her tone is mocking or not. I choose to believe not.

As she passes us on her way to her next class, she gives me a long, searching glance, her eyes raking from the top of my head to my toes and then back up again. My stomach twitches and Ellen looks at me, a slight smile on her lips. I glance away from Olivia, feeling ashamed.

When I look up again, she’s gone.

Ellen squeezes my hand gently. “Hey, everything ok?” she says. I nod, feeling an inexplicable glum mood wash over me for a moment. I force a smile onto my face and look at Ellen.