Control

-2-

I'm only halfway to my first turn when I glance back. He's not watching me go. He's on his knees with his head in his hands. I feel a stab of worry for my new friend, but then again maybe if he's just as messed up as me then that means he won't be that scared of me. And I'm a horrible person for wishing that upon someone.

I force myself to not look back as I walk away and I find myself picking up my pace until I'm practically jogging down the hall. I hope he doesn't notice. But I don't have the will power to just hope and not see for myself so I grant myself one more look. I freeze and panic. He's seen me running away. And he wouldn't know its not because I'm freaked out by him. I'm not. I am so much more messed up, I'm just trying not to ruin this friendship. His face looks pained as he looks away once again, and I try to get his attention. I try smile at him; hoping he'll notice that I'm not scared or creeped out. My face feels really stiff and I realize I haven't smiled in a little over a year I think. I shake my head and turn the corner.

I find the algebra room in a small, dark hallway. The lights flicker on and off and I feel my body unstiffen. As I squint up at the light fixture above and see a pencil stuck in one of the bulbs. The janitors surely won't appreciate some class clown's "funny stunt" but I am grateful for it at the moment. I peep into the window that belongs to the only room with a light on inside this hallway and knock. I open the door and see several people jump in their seats. Including the teacher apparently.

She's a gray haired lady with giant glasses that makes her eyes boggle out of her head like a bug. With a tweed, dark green coat and black trousers to add to it, she definitely reminds me of a short grasshopper. I glimpse behind her and see an old-fashioned chalkboard covered with white formulas stretching across the whole entire thing. I gulp.

"A-, and, and, who are you?" she stutters, her mouth barely keeping up with the sounds tumbling out of her mouth.

"Edith Davis, Ma'am," my eyes sweep across the room to see if there's anyone I used to know in this period. Solo's friend Finn is sitting in a chair in the back corner but I don't recognize anyone else, good or bad. I notice that the chairs are an old, unfinished wood with the flip-top desk. This has to be one of the older classrooms of the building. I hear snap awaken me from my thinking, but I'm more used to it now after today, it seems that I tend to stare of into space a lot. The teacher snaps again, trying to get my attention.

"Miss Davis?" her voice titters, "th-, there's only one open spot left in, in the classroom, so you'll just have-, just have to sit right there in the back." I nod in her direction and then weave my way towards the back of the classroom. At least she didn't give me a tardy. My pace quickens when I realize I'll be sitting next to Finn, so maybe that means my luck might just be getting better.

I slide into my seat and sigh as I start to pull out my algebra textbook I got at the back-to-school night from my bag. The windows are wide open on my left and the sunlight filters in through the foggy unwashed glass. It's very bright so I'm guessing that most of the snow will be melted by the time I get out of school around 3:30. The old woman launches into a lecture about completing the square after she makes sure I have enough time to get situated. I search the board for anything that makes sense and isn't just random numbers sprawled across it and find her name in small, tense letters hiding in the middle; Ms.Eldridge.

I jump as a piece of paper lands on my desk, and my heart deflates. Apparently I'm already getting tormented for being so weird and on edge. I pretend not to see it and slide my arm across my desk, and when the scrap falls to the floor, I pretend to be paying attention. I had to pretend a lot at school in the past, and apparently I will never grow out of this happening to me. The moment I see another prepare for landing I bend over to my bag and pretend to search for a different notebook. I make it soar over from my bag onto my desk quickly so the note falls on the floor. The teacher doesn't notice anything.

Only one paper note land on my desk for the rest of the period. This whole day has been a rollercoaster of bad and good and bad and good. Overall, I still don't know what I consider this first day of school to be. Its good to be back socialising and interacting with other human beings after a year but most of the people I interact with are not so good to be around. So when the bell rings, my sromach churns back and forth, unsure what to think. It definetly hasnt been a perfect day but-

"Hey Edith." I hear Finn say behind me, but his cheery voice from this morning seems sorta fake, "so how was class?" He wrings his hands back and forth in front of him, but I dont understand why hes acting like this.

"Fine. The teachers really annoying though. And the classroom is so old. But I've had worse classes." I reply, and try to smile, but the fact that people already hate me so soon is getting to me a little bit.

"Oh." He seems odd.

"Finn, what?" I ask, trying not to be too intruding.

"Oh, nothing, it just seems like you're really into that class. You were really paying close attentuin the whole time." He scratches the back of his neck and we start to slowly walk.

"Oh you mean the whole note thing?" I explain uncomfortably, "don't worry, that happened all the time at my old school." Now its my turn to be the awkward one.

"What do you mean?" He looks up at me, bewildered.

"You know, the whole thing with the notes going on to my desk? A lot of people used to do that before," I feel my eyebrows scrunch down and my forehead crinkle as I try to explain this in the least embarrassing way possible, "they would just kinda fly there uninvited with unknown authors and..."

I don't really want to finish that sentence.

"Whoa, wait. I passed those notes to you, I was trying to get your attention and make the class a little, easier, you know?"

Oh. Ohhhhh.

"Sorry bout that, I didnt mean to-" I start, regretting having tried to explain that stuff.

"No, Edith." He looks into my eyes again, "forget about it. It is seriously nothing." I nod.

"So wheres your next class?" I try to engage in some easy high-school smalltalk.

"Room 304, History."

"Room 207, English."

"Ok, thats right down here," he points left of the girls bathroom, "and thats all the instructions you need I think."

"Thanks Finn." I say and spin around to my next class, getting to get away from this awkward conversation I started. I fling open the door when I get across the hall and I scan the classroom as I step through. This room is more modern with polished wooden desks, plastic chairs, and a whiteboard instead of a chalkboard. But when I look at who is sitting in the chairs. I stifle a gasp.

Solomon is here.