Sure. Fine. Whatever. A Dana Scully Origin Story

A Face as Red as Her Hair

Literature class was more quiet than usual that morning. Dana, as always was the only student that read the assigned chapters which meant a whole hour of lecturing and reading the chapter as a class that she had already picked apart and analyzed. It wasn't that bad, she supposed. Just like every other class she had, it was basically a free period where she could do what she wanted and still come out with the highest grade in the class. Graduation was next week and Dana had grades of 98% percent in almost all of her classes. Today, in fact, after the bell rang for lunch, the valedictorian would be announced, and Dana knew she had it in the bag.

As Miss Reynolds called roll, she paused for a few seconds where Pauline's name would have been said and continued down the list. It was an eery pause. It was the kind of silence between the conclusion of a movie and the ending credits. The kind where you sit and for a brief moment trying to understand what happened. What the end meant. Pauline was an end. She was a sentence, a story, that rambled on with commas and hyphens and suddenly, abruptly, ended with a stone cold period. Done. Over. Just like that. She was a complete thought on a white page with no explanation or summary of why. Pauline was a mystery novel with no conclusion.

Dana turned around to view the empty desk where the dark-haired beauty once sat. She was pretty but average. Her small brown eyes were always looking at the clock on the wall, her long black hair was always tucked behind her ears. She wore oversized knit sweaters when it was hot and her plaid skirts were always too small.

"Hey,"

Dana looked to her left to see Ronny, a blonde boy that she had only every briefly talked to.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, I'm having an after party the night of graduation and I was wondering --"

Put yourself out there. The voice of her older sister, Melissa, echoed in her mind.

"Sure, Ronny," She smiled, "I'd love to go."

"Oh," He chuckled, "No. It wasn't like that. I was wondering if you could hand this invite to Steve."

Dana glanced to her right to see Steve, an African American boy sporting new Chuck Taylors and his navy blue uniform shirt with the collar up.

"Oh, yeah," She blushed and took the invite, passing it to her right," Sorry." She kept her eyes down.

"Well, you can come too," he blushed, " I should be sorry," He reached into his brown book bag and pulled out another invitation. "What's your name, Red?" He slid the invite on to her desk.

Pushing a strand of her crimson hair behind her ear, she met eyes with him and quietly said, "Dana."

"I like that, Dana." He smiled at her.

She smiled back at him, and then thought, "I've sat next to you all year and you never knew my name? Wow. I must really be as invisible as I thought."

"I'll catch you around, Dana." Ronny stood up as the bell rang "Oh," He bent over, "I think you dropped this." He handed her a silver key.

"But I didn't--" It was too late. Before Dana could speak up, the blue-eyed boy with sunlight hair was gone. She rolled the key over in her hand. The numbers 617 were inscribed on it. Not thinking much of her new trinket, she tossed it in the pocket of her plaid skirt.

Dana pulled up her knit socks, smoothed down her skirt and adjusted the collar of her shirt. She thanked her Literature teacher for her lesson and trudged through the halls to her next class, Trigonometry. She shuddered at the thought of the empty desk that would be next to her. No one to pass the homework assignment to, collect a calculator from, no one to tell her that her tag was sticking up in the back of her shirt. No one. Simply no one would be sitting next to her.