Marney in the Middle

Chapter 3: A Blind Shot

It took me almost ten minutes to figure out where the guidance counselor's office was; when I arrived, Toria was already planted on the stained greyish two-seater couch. I took a seat beside her and looked around. The main office, where the teachers' inboxes are stationed and they do the morning and noon announcements from, is empty. Nasty orange painted walls with wood trim, a blue and grey speckled carpet, and various shelves stuffed with books, binders and previous awards.

"What are you doing here," I hiss, tucking a lock of stray hair behind my ear.

She doesn't look up from her cellphone as she shrugs, "Same as you, I assume."

I nod before realizing I actually don't even know what I'm doing here. A large bodied woman with dirty blonde hair piled into a beehive shape on top of her head emerges from the door labeled Principal's Office. She squints at us, pulling her glasses above her eyebrows, then lets them fall.

"Dillon girls, right?" Her voice is husky with a hint of what people call 'bedroom voice.'

I nod again; Toria doesn't respond, her nose only inches from her screen now.

The woman walks up to us and places a chubby fingered hand on top of Toria's phone. She forces her to lower it. "Phone away, please."

"Oh," Toria forces a smile, her perfectly straight and white teeth blaring out against her ruby red lips. "My apologies."

"It's fine," the woman says as she rounds the secretary desk and takes a seat on the tall, no backed stool. It creaks with her added weight.

Toria looks at me and rolls her eyes, but shoves her phone into the big pocket of her mauve colored handbag. I frown - what are we doing here? Clearing my throat, I set my books and binder down on the cushion as I stand up. In front of the woman's desk, I wait for her to notice my presence. A simple silver name plaque reads Carolina Frisbee. Well that's unique.

The woman, Carolina, looks up at me over the rim of her glasses, "Yes, dear?"

"Um, yes, hi." I put out my hand with a smile. She holds it like it's a fish and flops it about twice just like one, too. "I'm Marney Dillion, and this"—I gesture to my sister, whose eyeing me with a suspicious squint—"is Toria, well, Dillon."

"I know," Carolina says simply.

"Great, then we're off to a good start." I'm attempting to do the take charge attitude thing my guidelines explain, but feel I'm failing miserably. And in front of my mentor no less. "Anyway, we've both been summoned - from class, mind you - and we're curious as to why."

Something in the way Carolina's penciled thick eyebrow arches up as her mouth forms a thin line makes me very aware of how foolish I must sound. After a second, however, she puts up a finger, "Just a moment."

Hoisting herself off the stool, she slips into a backroom between where the small couch sits and the door to the guidance counselor's office is. It's doorless and reminds me of a cubby more than a room. The small space is filled with dented puke green colored filing cabinets. She runs a finger across a few drawers, moving her lips silently as she reads, taps it on the label taped to the front of one and opens it. A few files are flipped past before she finds what she's looking for. At her desk, she pulls her glasses down her nose.

"Right," she says aloud following half a minute of silence. "You're the two transfers from Seattle."

"That's correct."

"Then you're here to see Mr. Luke, the guidance counselor. He sees all new students on their first day - kind of like a get to know you sort of thing. Make sure you're finding everything ok and that you have everything you need."