The Smell of Rebellion

Chapter Thirteen

A/N: It's been so long since I wrote! I can't thank you all enough on 1.1K reads! I never thought this would go so far with my inconsistent updates and the two or so years it's been since the musical. I can't believe it's been so long already! Happy late Valentine's Day, and expect more chapters in the following week! And yes, this is (one of my) my favorite song(s) in the musical.

Thank you, my readers, so so much!

-

Whispers followed Matilda everywhere. That's what it felt like.

Kids turned to stare, and resumed conversation with glances in her direction or painfully obvious conversation that stopped abruptly when she came near, which frustrated her to no end.

She had an insatiable desire for knowledge, but having it deprived-- just at her fingertips— made her very, very irritated. The books she had read had depicted this scene, but never had she expected it to be about her.

Suddenly, she felt self-conscious. She smoothed her clothes down and untangled some more of her hair as she walked, shuffling slowly alongside her peers.

She was stopped by yet another whisper, just as she passed the forbidding green gates.

"Matilda," a Year Two student said, holding a chocolate bar out to her. She looked up, her eye catching on the blue ribbons in her hair and . . . were those pigtails? Her gaze wandered along to the other girls surrounding her. "This is for you."

Matilda received it tentatively, almost as though it was dangerous. She struggled to speak for a while, swallowing and settling on "Thank you", before hurrying off, her mind whirling.

"Matilda." Another whisper stopped her, and she took her hat off as she turned. The girl, seemingly a year Five or Six, handed her a colourful pencil. She had her hair up in two pretty buns, and the red fuzz at the top tickled her hand. When she turned to the girl next to her, she revealed the underside of her blazer with the word 'No' on a piece of paper, safety-pinned to the back.

She blinked, slightly flustered, and looked at the two of them. It was uncomfortable. She felt stares piercing her back and whispers that were so pointedly at her, and in her hurry to leave, Matilda neglected to say thank-you.

Head down, she rushed along.

"Isn't it a splendid day, old pal?" A familiar voice perked Matilda up, and she saw Lavender come cheerily down the stairs.

Uncomfortable, she tilted her head back down as Lavender smoothly put an arm around her, her hat bumping into her right shoulder. "Lavender, what is going on?"

"You, you're a hero!" she said cheerfully.

Her frown lightened in confusion as they bumped into another group of kids. Another girl handed her a wrapped sandwich that Lavender took and inspected, saying, "Here, Matilda!" She smiled and stood anxiously, as though greeting a world-famous celebrity.

"Egg and cress, Staphanie? Really?" Lavender looked at her, but held no ill-intent.

They turned the corner together, and a jolting realisation struck her.

"A hero?" Matilda repeated, just now coming to realise what she had said.

"Yes, you're leading a revolution!" Lavender took a bite of the sandwich as they walked, grinning like mad.

Matilda felt more lost, if that was even possible. "What revolution?" Had she missed something?

"You said 'no' to the Trunchbull. See"— she plucked a piece of paper reading 'No' off the wall— "no one"s ever done that before."