Ten & Levan

13. Thirteen

LEVAN

II wonder how people can stare so blatantly, so brazenly. I know I have bruises on my face; there is no need to remind me. I bow my head as I travel to my next class. I hope Ten has skipped school today. I'm aware that if strangers stare at my bruises, it's out of sheer curiosity. But when Ten does it, it makes me hesitant, it makes me feel odd, naked, small; like she wants me to know that she's seen me, and now I've nowhere to hide. Even though I know she doesn't have the slightest idea about it, her gaze on me make me uncomfortable; almost intimidated.

When I enter class, the hustle almost dies. I feel all their eyes on me, all over my face, tearing me down to my bones. I keep my head bowed still, as I walk to my seat. I want to melt into the air, I want the earth to consume me, I want to disappear. My fists tighten, my nails dig into my palms. If only they could all mind their own business. I'm sure I don't look that bad.

"Jeez, why's everyone staring?" says Ten, looking around with a wrinkled nose and cinched up brows. I gulp because that just made everyone who wasn't looking look too. "Mind your own business, folks," she says, and it's as if they're all too afraid to disappoint her, so they follow her orders. She's seated next to an empty seat, the one I usually sit in. I slow my pace down, loosening my fists, and quietly take my seat.

Ten is smiling brightly at me, jumping up and down in her seat and rapping on her desk simultaneously. I try to smile at her and fail; it's when I realize that I'm so nervous that I'm sweating. I'm also holding my breath, which is weird.

"Hi!" she says, baring her teeth, her pearly white teeth. Her eyes become small as her cheeks push upwards. Her dark, dark hair is tied in a neat ponytail. Her flowery sundress makes her look like a garden on legs. But that's just Ten at her Ten-est. The knot that's been inside my throat loosens, it's when I finally force my lips to curl up.

"Hi," I say to her.

"Today's the dayyy!" she sings, her warm eyes wide and refracting light. I see rainbows all around me; I see every single color there is. This is how weird it gets. I frown to myself. What the heck?

"Yeah," I mutter to her with a nod of acknowledgement, just in case my voice was a little too quiet to be heard. She snickers under her breath.

"Why does it always sound like you're talking to yourself?" she comments. She sounds like she's high. I clear my throat.

"I might have a bad throat," I tell her. She narrows her eyes and pouts before she starts tapping her finger at the base of her bottom lip.

"Why...does that sound...like a big, fat...lie?" she says, so excruciating slowly, I grow a hundred years older. I scowl at her, I don't get it. "You sound perfectly fine, I'm kidding," she leans toward me and slaps my shoulder. I wince, it stings. And it stings hot and sharp, because I still have a bruise there. But she doesn't notice.

***

I'm starting to think Ten's crazy. She keeps smiling even when the teacher is going on and on about Jane Eyre. As far as I know, Jane Eyre is quite tragic. What could possibly be the reason behind all this smiling, all this joy? Either she has no care in the world, which is technically impossible, or she's crazy. Those are the only explanations I could come up with.

I tap on her shoulder; she turns to me, her streetlight eyes gleaming. I tell her that I think she's a loon. She starts to laugh. I watch her wide-eyed and shocked. She laughs until I start to feel conscious of myself, until I start to think I'm wrong. When she eases up, she rests her chin on her palm and asks me if I'm a loon too. I scowl at her, I feel beyond uncomfortable. My cheeks burn. The she laughs again, "We're all loons, Levan Eleven," she says.