I Don't Really Know...

Chapter 13: First Day Back

I stare into my bag as I stand near my locker.  As I stare into my empty locker with other students walking by and snickering, I am too ashamed to look up.  

I rub my necklace between two fingers, feeling the thin branches and tiny, smooth leaves.  The chain digs into my neck, but I’ve gotten used to it.  Strands of hair are tangled in the chain, and I reach back to gently untangle it.

“HEY, welcome back!  You go to juvie yet?!” Someone yells from the hallway.  I hear people snicker quietly and others laugh out loud like it’s nobody’s business.  

A tear threatens to roll down my cheek, but I smash my hand against my eye before it even tries.  I can’t cry.  I just can’t.  

I shove my backpack into my locker and run to my homeroom.  People continue to pepper me with insults.  

Why always, “pepper,” when talking about throwing insults?  What about salt?  They continue to salt me with insults.  Yeah, I like that better.  

The only thing that didn’t relate to those garments for food was the fact that every time I swallowed, it felt like I had eaten a hot pepper that was sliding down my throat, as if burning my insides.  Ironic, considering the fact that my skin felt like ice.  

I sat through classes like a mindless ghost.  Teachers would say, “Welcome back!” and explain why I wasn’t there for the first week of school.  Students would throw paper balls at me when others weren’t looking.  Basically it was classes where I was trying to melt into the floor.  If I did, would nobody remember me? How would anyone explain that I just melted into the floor like the Wicked Witch in Oz?  

Maybe that’s just it.  People wouldn’t believe it, and would carry on with their business and forget about me and my seeping skin conjoining with the floor.

An announcement plays over the speakers with a crackle, and I hear the Principal’s voice, sadly.  

“Ahem.  No detention for the next month will be preceded with, due to the detention-holder, our Vice Principal breaking her rib cage over the summer.  Therefore, all planned detentions…” There was a crack in his voice.  “...shall not be continued with.  Please continue through your day.” I hear a mutter and the click-off.  

Oh gosh, how would we continue through the day without thinking about a broken rib cage?  Granted, I haven’t even seen the vice principal this year because of my “week of absence,” but a broken anything never feels good.  

The good news is, I don’t have to get detention since she’s out.  I’ll have to thank her for breaking her rib cage.  

I smile for the first time in weeks.  A small smile, with the corners of my mouth pulling up and stretching my lips just a bit.  It’s a smile, though.  

Lunch comes around.  I enter the sickly lunch room and order the planned lunch, as Ms. Lasdon still isn’t talking to me.  I look for, not the table with my brother.  The table that’s empty.  I wander about for almost 10 minutes, my eyes searching and searching.  

I finally spot one by the entrance of the lunch room.  Pretty lucky, I say.  When lunch is over, I’ll be the first to dash into the hallway.  

I look down at the mess before me.  A cup of brick-colored tomato soup, clinging to the sides of the styrofoam bowl.  A milk carton with hardened milk on the sides, flaking off onto the tray.  The main meal, soggy bread and a piece of dry chicken.  Don’t forget the vegetables and fruit, with a cup of soggy pieces of cantaloupe and a pile of corn, milk substance on the side.  

I grimace.  What shall be the first monstrosity that I should try?  I tentatively scoop some soup onto my spoon and cautiously place some on my tongue.  

It’s not the worst.  I take a piece of chicken and dip it into the soup, hoping it’ll moisten the chicken enough to not choke me.  

Hmm...it’s not terrible.  And it did what I asked it to.  

“Good idea.  Mind if I steal it?”  I look up, seeing Mila Allen sitting across from me.  I jump from my chair, shocking me that she was able to sit here without me noticing.  I must have been too focused on deciding how I would eat this...mess.  

“No...I don’t mind…” I say.  She doesn’t smile, but continues dipping her chicken in the soup.

“So...how was the week off?”  She asks.  I stare at her menacingly.

“If you’re going to just make fun of me you can leave.  Now.”  I hold her gaze.  I won’t let anyone else continue to torment me any longer.  It’s bad enough that this happened at the beginning of the school year.  I’ll be the laughing stock for the rest of the year.  

She looked flabbergasted.  

“No, no!  I was going to ask if you got the homework I put in your locker!  That’s where I was going with that…” She looked down and dipped her chicken in the tomato soup too many times, making it soggy.  Oh.  Oops.

“Sorry, it’s just...People have been giving it a hard time,” I sigh in frustration, feeling a bit guilty.  

“It’s ok.”  She smiled tentatively and went back to eating.  We sit quietly for a bit, eating and dipping the chicken in our soup.  I refuse to look at the corn, fruit cup, or bread.  The milk, I have already thrown out when I excused myself from the table earlier.  The dried milk on the milk carton completely tied the ends for me;  in the trash can.

“Thank you...you know, the homework.  I’d have to do it all now if you hadn’t done that for me.”  I smiled.

“I figured.  And that day that I helped you with your locker, I remembered your combination and where it was, so...yeah.”  She giggled.  

The bell rang, and everyone started throwing out their plastic trays, and half-finished food.  Everyone was groaning, now having to go back to listening to teachers drone about equilateral triangles, formulas, you name it.  

“So...Want to sit together tomorrow?  You know, if you want…” I approach, stuttering.  I’m hoping she actually enjoys my presence and doesn’t just feel bad for me.  

She grinned widely.  “I thought you’d never ask.”  I laugh.  She joins, and I think we both realized at that moment…

We were going to get along real well.