My first 4 weeks back pass without error. I see The Clique Guys and Girls around, wearing the same get-up as last year. They don’t do much, although they occasionally taunted me about my eyes or teeth. A few times I was tripped or slammed into a locker, but they generally left me alone. A majority of the time I sat in my apartment watching movies from Netflix or Hulu on my laptop. Or I studied. I kept up with my running around campus, going out about an hour before sundown then coming home by the time it got dark. People were rarely out then. The parties put on by The Clique usually start about an hour before my runs, so there is hardly anybody out at that time who will cringe away from me as I go by.
Sunday, Week 5
I crash into my bed, exhausted. It is Sunday night of my 5th week and I had just finished up Mr. Stevens’ 1000 word essay on the animal Orders. If it had been high school I would have breezed through it in about 40 minutes, but it wasn’t high school. College teachers were more specific and picky about what they wanted. I glance at the clock, and the numbers 11:53 blur and go out of focus as my protesting eyes finally close.
~*~
The snow crunches under my feet. I am wearing no shoes or socks. I feel no pain as I walk on the icy snow. No cold, no nothing. I go back into the woods, following that same small light that has been lacing my dreams since my first night here. But tonight its different. I have realized that the woods are very much like the small forrest behind the campus wall that students would often use for science experiments about ecosystems and animal life because of a fairly large pond out there. My eyes are glassy. There are no stars. I keep following the small light. I hear voices, faint at first, growing louder and louder as I approach. I approach the familiar clearing, but something is not right. A small voice inside me is telling me to hide, to leave, get out of here! I hide behind a large rock and peel over the top.
“Okay, put the Rhonionite in the beaker. Easy… Easy now. It is so dangerous!” said a man with long sleek, black hair in a ponytail.
The what?
“I know, I know. Quit your yammering!” said a second man in a voice that squeaked slightly.
“Knock it off. I’m just nervous. This stuff could kill us!” said the first man.
“Then why are we messing with it?” said Squeaky.
“The President-”
“SHHHHHH! Both of you! We can’t reveal classified information! Even if it is night and no one is around! But seriously, be careful! We need this solution to find out who the next one is!” the third man boomed. His voice, even if it was low and quiet, carried so loudly that birds took off from the trees above me.
“Yes sir!” said Ponytail.
Boomer growled a little. “Where is the Iodine?”
“Right here sir!” said Squeaky.
I squinted a little and climbed up the rock a little, trying to see what was going on. There was a purple beaker on the table between the three men. It was bubbling and frothing viciously. The beaker screamed danger. There were various unlabeled ingredients on the table. Some I saw every day, like salt and water. But some things on the table weren’t even supposed to exist anymore. Things that the government had banned a long time ago and I had only seen in very old pictures. Some I had never even seen before! Microscopes and magnifying glasses and extra goggles are scattered throughout the table too.
I am almost on top of the rock in my efforts to see. I am about to see the men pour some iodine in the beaker. They are about to-
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
I awake with a start. I am lying on my belly, staring at the wall. I moan loudly and burry my face back into my pillow, my fist pounding at my alarm clock. Nothing happens. I moan some more.
“Shut up! Shut up Shut up Shut up!” I groan in sync with my smacks.
My head hurts. I groan and face the Monday.
Monday, Week 5- Introduction to Oceanography
I lay my head in my arms, too happy to listen to Mrs. Connihan as she launches into a lecture about dynamic oceanography. I open up Noteshare on my laptop and set it to record. I will just listen to it later.
Marine Biology was off to a way better start than last year. I have a feeling Mr. Stevens likes me a lot more now. I had especially scored some points because of my essay. It was the only essay in the class (to the Blonde Click Girl’s horror) to get a full 100% on it. The Blonde Clique Girl (Isn’t her name Jade?) only got 95 because of grammar, which Mr. Stevens was very happy to point out. His number one pet-peeve, he said, was grammar. Then he had clipped my paper to the board, saying that those who had to redo their paper should use my paper as a resource.
Suddenly, something rubbery slammed into the back of my head and broke. Dark colored, algae-filled water exploded all over me, soaking my hair and shirt. I cried out in shock as the cold water dripped down my back. I ran both hands back through my hair, excess water and algae splattering on the floor. There is algae all over my clothes and balloon fragments on the floor among the disgusting mess it had once contained. Mrs. Connihan stopped her lecturing and stares around the class.
“Who did this?”
No answer.
“Who did this?” she said again, louder this time.
The whole class is quiet. Mrs. Connihan sighs, then turns to me.
“Get some paper towels from the back of the room and please clean yourself up.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
I do so, hating Jade, who is sniggering at me as I wipe up the floor and finger comb the gunk out of my hair.
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