I Don't Really Know...

Chapter 7: Cancer Survivor and Too Much Thinking...

I practically tripped out the door of Spanish and ran down the hallway.  That Welby kid creeped me out too much.  I shuddered.  

My favorite class was next!  Language arts, writing, poetry, the perfect way to end my day.  I hope it goes well.  I smile at the fact of that subject being 2 minutes away and I walk confidently to the teacher’s room.  

“Hey, random lady!  How ya doin’?”  Someone yelled behind me.  I whip around to see Ash, waving.  I lean against the wall to wait for him.  He was strutting confidently in his blue jeans and big vibrant NIKE sneakers, which were basically popping in my face with the neon blue, green, and yellow.  

“Where you going?”  He asked.  I nodded my head to the language arts room, where posters of self-motivation were stuck to the wall.  One starts to fall off and it lands in the middle of the hallway.  He smirked.

“Looks exciting.”  I nodded, agreeing.  “Where are you going?”  

“Spanish room.  Heard it’s very exciting too.”   I nodded repeatedly with a scared look on my face.  

“Well, gotta go to class.  Bye!”  He said, waving and walking back down the way I came.  I ran to the fallen poster and stuck it back to the wall, pressing with my palms to make sure it stayed and didn’t fly away.  

“Well, thank you little miss.”  I whirled around (for the second time) and saw the a tall woman.  

She looked like a model!  Curvy, long legs, the perfect face with a small nose, high cheekbones, big, red lips, black eyebrows that defined her face, big bold lashes that made milk chocolate eyes pop.  There was just one thing that made me confused.  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.  I’d lost my nerve to ask.  Was it ok to ask?  Would she get offended?  What if-

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to ask,” She quickly said, reading my mind.  

“I have breast cancer, and because of the chemotherapy I lost my hair.  That’s why I’m the baldy!” She threw her head back and laughed heartily.  I was a little afraid to laugh, in case she thought of it the wrong way.  She stared at me.

“Oh, come on!  It was that bad of a joke, was it?  Laugh, STAR WARS!”  She pointed to my shirt.  I giggled.  Then I chuckled.  Then, I was laughing heavily with my teacher as if we were best friends since Pre-K.  

***

“Do you want to wear a wig sometimes?” I asked as I sat in one of the desks in the front.  She started to write on the chalkboard, as the other kids began to walk in.

“No.  I vowed never to wear one.  I’d be hiding the real me.  I want everyone to see that I don’t care that I’m bald.  I...I want people to accept me as I am.”  She said proudly.

I gaped at her.  Kids started piling in, looking half - asleep from the full day.  The plopped their butts in chairs and looked at the teacher.  Half of everyone widened their eyes in surprise.  

“Hello, everyone! My name is Miss. Faye, and I am your language arts teacher!  Yes, I’m bald.  Deal with it.  And if you snicker, I have a nice, powerful shaver I can use so we can share a similarity.”  She eyed everyone, looking like the devil.  She immediately smiled and said, “The start of the new year!”  I smiled big.  This must be my favorite.  Teacher.  EVER.

Miss. Faye made the class better than heaven.  She let us free write in our notebooks we brought, and then we played “2 truths, 1 lie.”  When it was Miss. Faye’s turn, she said:

“I have a cat named Pirate because one eye has a black patch around the eye, I stapled a napkin to my head when I was little, and….I had wavy brown hair before….this!” She pointed to her head and smiled.  Everyone started panicking and whispered with each other.  I started thinking and my eyes drifted to a picture on her desk.  It showed the cutest little girl with...wavy...black hair but with red highlights!  Guessing that was her, I raised my hand.

“The fib is that you didn’t have brown hair - you had wavy black hair with red highlights!  There’s a picture of you on your desk!”  I pointed accusingly at the photo on her desk, smirking.  She sighed.

“I knew I should’ve taken that down when I had the chance!”  She snatched it and glared at her past.  The bell rang loudly, making everyone jump.  

“OK, class is OVER!  Have a good weekend!”  She reminded us.  Everyone cheered.  Today was Friday!  

I put my chair on my desk and walked out, where people were whooping and hollering.  I grinned and approached my locker, stuffing my books in my backpack and slamming my door closed.  As I walked down the hallway, I caught sight of Preston walking toward to me.  I suddenly turned red and smiled, waiting for him.  

“Hey, Preston.”  Just saying his name sent a tingle down my spine.  

“Hi, I wanted to ask you, are you in band?” He asked in a rush.  I nodded, smiling.

“Yeah, I play french horn.  You?” I prayed that he played the same instrument.  

“I play the french horn too!  I’m really bad at it, though.” He said as we walked to the exit of the school.  

“I’m sure you’re not that bad.  I got to go home, see ya tomorrow!”  I yelled as I ran across the pavement, my shoes slapping the hot, dark rock.   He waved back, before running onto a bus.  I smiled to myself.  That one little conversation gave me so much energy.

I ran the whole way home.  

***

When I got home, I threw my backpack on the rug of my room and fell on my bed, bouncing a bit.  My face was stunned.  

I’m thinking about Preston.  Why?  I described him in my head.  

Chocolate - brown hair and ocean - blue eyes that twinkled  24/7.  Probably 6’ with broad shoulders…

I groaned and smushed my pillow into my face.  Even the way I was describing him sounded very creepy and fairytale-like.  

He played the french horn (awesome!) and he’s in my worst class, science.  I saw him doing, umm...science-y calculations and I hope he can help me.  He’s definitely smart.  

Ugh.  Stop thinking about him.  The pillow is still smashed into my face, refusing to let my mouth move.  

And I did stop thinking about him.  

The only way that happened was that I fell asleep.