Fitting in

Chapter 36

Brett parted her hair to one side in the morning, and put on a jean T-shirt and yellow floral printed pants. She glanced at herself in the mirror, and realized she hadn’t taken the full hour she usually did to get ready. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and her hair had taken seconds to style. She had enough time to grab breakfast before having to head to school, and stole a bagel from Braden’s plate. He scowled at her at first, then stopped and gawked at her hair.

            “Did you dye your hair?” He said snatching the bagel out of her hand.

            “Nope. I stopped dying it.” Brett retorted taking the bagel back, she wrapped it in a brown paper bag. And slipped on a brown jacket, a thick scarf, and a pair of brown oxfords before leaving the house. Ben’s eyes enlarged when he caught sight of her, and Tracy only smiled when Brett walked past.

            At school, Brett avoided the giant mass of students streaming in the halls, and decided to head to the art room. She would work to salvage what she could of her art project until she deemed it presentable. Picking up pieces of the shattered works, she began to glue and cut until the first bell rang.

            In class, it wasn’t hard to pay attention, no one would talk to her, so it was hard to get distracted. She stared at the back of the teacher’s head, and tried to avert her eyes from the side-long glances she was receiving from her fellow students. They would glance at her, and then whisper furiously amongst one another. As the day progressed, Brett found it harder and harder to ignore them.

            In Literature, a short girl sitting next to Brett kept talking about her. Brett stared at the girl shocked by her audacity. She was telling her friend the story about Brett at Blake’s wedding, apparently, she had been invited. Brett inhaled slowly, and turned around to give the girl a treacle smile.

            “I’m sitting right here.” She said trying not to sound mean.

            The girl only glanced at Brett, and went on as if she hadn’t heard her. Brett realized her drop in the school’s popularity was worse than she’d imagined. At lunch, a quarter-sized lump was forming in her throat. Brett stared at the steps to the library, and considered hiding herself in there until lunch was over. But her pride wouldn’t allow it. Brett steeled herself and entered the lunchroom with her head hanging a little lower than normal.

            She glanced at her old table out of habit, and noticed every one holding their breaths in unison. Brett let out a breath, and looked around the lunchroom. She spotted a round table in the back of the room, and hastily made her way towards it. This time her eyes were trained on the ground, and she didn’t dare look up. There were to many eyes.

            When she finally reached the table, she looked up to retrieve her lunch bag, and noticed Simon sitting two tables down eyeing her. A sympathetic expression clouded his pallid face, for he looked sick to his stomach. Brett glanced down at her lunch in alarm, and realized the amount of discomfort she had brought to the lunchroom. She began to pick up her stuff, but stopped when she noticed a bright blond head in front of her. Jesse was sitting across from her, and she wasn’t wearing a condescending expression.

            “I’m sorry Brett.” She said reaching out her hand to pat Brett’s.

 Brett stared at her best friend openmouthed, “Why are you sorry?”

“For lying to you about Jason.”

Brett paused and stared at Jesse more, “You shouldn’t even be apologizing to me.”

“I knew about it and didn’t tell. And I’m so sorry.” She said pulling her hand back. She wrapped it around her thin arms, and blinked at the grey lunch table.

“Don’t feel bad Jesse. You’ve been a better friend in six months, than I have been in the last eighteen years.”

Jesse looked up at Brett confused, but managed to smile anyhow. The two of them ate lunch together, despite the wishes of the general population in the lunchroom. Brett was suddenly grateful to have Jesse sitting next to her. She’d decided to stick with Brett through the gale, and Brett was grateful to have a friend of such loyalty.

            Whenever Brett could, she worked on repairing the art project. She spent so much time cooped up inside the art room, that even Ms. Tammy was getting worried. The art teacher would bring Brett dinner when she managed to stay that late, and would leave shaking her head, reminiscing about what could have been the greatest project.

            Simon hadn’t talked to her in over a month now, and Brett was getting worried. She held on to the note he’d given her in his apology gift, and would fold and refold the paper till it was soft and creased. Brett would rub her thumb across the words, hoping what it said was true. She was not the same with out him.

            On the day before school let out for Christmas break, Brett walked into the art room holding the repaired artwork behind her. She fidgeted nervously as her classmates turned in their projects to Ms. Tammy. The woman was beaming from ear to ear proud of her students, and Brett doubted she’d get the same reaction.

            Brett looked down at Amaranth and her partner holding their work. She sighed in frustration; upset that even Amaranth’s work looked better than hers.

            “Is that your project?” Amaranth said trying to peer behind Brett’s back.

            “Yes.” She said too eagerly. Amaranth was the first person to talk to her in school, besides Jesse.

            “Obviously Simon was the creative mastermind behind your projects.” She snorted. Brett pursed her lips, and tried not to glare a whole through the girl’s skull. The one fact Brett relished in concerning Blake’s wedding fiasco was the fact that Amaranth had never accomplished her goal of stealing Simon. She’d tried many embarrassing times to get Simon’s attention, but he was still hung up on Brett.

            “Brett.” Ms. Tammy said glancing at the distracted teen. She’d been so lost in her thoughts, that she didn’t notice Amaranth and her partner present. Moreover, it was her turn now. Ms. Tammy looked across the room, seemingly uninterested in whatever it was Brett had to show her. Brett didn’t blame her; in one smooth motion, Brett took out the pieced together project and held it in front of her art teacher.

            The project caught the woman’s eyes, and a sympathetic smile spread across her face. She marked something down in her books, ran her finger along the patched work and sighed heavily.

            “Any closing words you’d like to say that might convince me to change your grade?”

            “Life gets messy.” Brett said fiddling with her fingers. Ms. Tammy smiled slowly, and took the project from Brett’s hands.

            “I’ll remember to share that, when I show the future classes your project.” She said winking. Brett stared at her art teacher empty handed.

            “You still get a C! But the story behind this piece of art, is to good for me not to keep it.” She said shooing Brett out of the door.