Kara's Cross

The bell to end second period is about to ring. I am waiting next to the window at the end of the hall near my third block class. I won’t be late for this class.

It didn’t take me too long to clean myself up in the girl’s room. Aside from a few spots on my dress and some of my hair, I remain fairly undamaged by the incident in Mrs. Pickford’s room. After spot scrubbing the sections of my dress and rinsing and brushing through my hair, I look almost as good as I did this morning. My face is still a little pale and there are slight dark portions under my eyes, but I don’t think anyone will think much of it.

I am almost one hundred percent better than I was during second period. A slight ache is still hanging on in my head and I am a little tired, but otherwise, all is well. It’s one of the blessings of my ability. I tend to recover quickly and when I do, it’s as if nothing ever happened. I’ve also noticed the extent of what I do directly relates to the amount of recovery time. The time in first grade, I spoke to ten or twelve kids and I was practically in a coma for two days. The third time, I just told a kid to stop yelling at his little brother and a really bad headache was the only symptom. Extreme or not, the results have always been worth the punishment. Nevertheless, I still don’t ever look forward to using my ability.

The bell rings and almost instantly the hallways fill with students. In front of me, a river of kids flows in two directions and I have to cross to the other side. I wait about a half minute for my classroom to empty and trudge into the crowd. Forced right by the sheer numbers, I weave my way toward the middle of the hall. Seeing my moment, I shift directions and am heading back in the direction of my class. No one appears to have noticed me yet, or at least no one who saw me this morning. Everyone moves along with very little eye contact or conversation.

“That’s the girl?”

“Yeah, she did it all over the teacher and her desk. It was so gross.”

Never mind.

A couple of people behind me must have been in my math class. That’s just great. My classroom is coming up on the right. Whoever is behind me, please don’t be coming to this class.

Walking through the door, the room is still empty. The teacher must have stepped out. Glancing around, I find the desk least likely to get me noticed. I head to the seat in the back, closest to the window. It is furthest away from the door and the teacher’s desk. I head there quickly and sit down. I notice out of the corner of my eye the students who were talking behind me sitting down on the other side of the room. I stare out the window, hoping my face will not be visible as other students walk into class.

A couple of minutes pass before my curiosity overrides my plan. I steal a quick look at the rest of the classroom. The room is about two-thirds full at this point, but there is a noticeable swath of empty chairs surrounding mine. In fact, the only empty desks at this point are the ones near me. The kids already seated are not trying to hide the fact they are watching me and whispering to each other.

Looking back out the window, I take a deep breath. I don’t know why I feel like crying. At this point, I never should have expected anything good to happen. Of course I am going to have many if not most of the same kids in my classes throughout the day. Expecting Maddie to be the only one from Mrs. Pickford’s class was naive.

“Hey, Kara, can I sit by you?”

I jump at Maddie’s voice, before turning in her direction. She is standing beside the desk beside mine, waiting for my answer.

“You probably don’t want to, Maddie; everyone in here is talking about me.”

“I don’t care. It’s not as if I have any popularity to lose anyway. Besides, we’re friends, and that’s what friends do.”

“Thanks, I’m really glad to see you.”

As Maddie settles into her seat, four boys start walking up the aisle between Maddie and me. They are talking about playing some video game after school. Maybe they haven’t seen me yet, or maybe they have and want to make fun of me up close. The cute one in front looks vaguely familiar, but not enough to place where I might have seen him.

They sit down in front of our desks and continue talking for a few moments before the boy directly in front of me turns around to face Maddie.

“Nice shirt, Maddie.”

Why are the good-looking ones always the mean ones?

“Thanks Mason. My brother let me wear it. He’s usually kind of a loser, but sometimes he can be nice.”

“Well, maybe he wouldn’t be such a loser if he didn’t have to protect his sister all the time.”

What is going on?

“Whatever,” Maddie rolls her eyes. “Mason, this is Kara. She’s the one I was telling you about. Kara, this is Mason, my twin brother.”

Mason and his three companions all turn toward me, with big smiles on their faces. No wonder he looked familiar to me, he has the same light brown hair and oval face as Maddie.

“So, you’re the one who blew chunks all over Mrs. Pickford. That’s awesome. I wish I could have seen her face when it happened. I wasn’t even there and it’s the funniest thing that’s happened today by far.”

He holds his hand up in the air for his friend across the aisle, who gives him a high five. They aren’t here to make fun of me? What a pleasant surprise?

“Thanks,” I think.

“Don’t be gross, Mason. No one would throw up on someone on purpose,” Maddie rolls her eyes, “You are such a dumb boy sometimes.”

She looks at me with a little smile, reminding me of our earlier conversation when she said the same thing. I look down to cover up a quick laugh. She is not so different from her brother.

His friends start laughing at him over Maddie’s comment. Mason’s face loses some of its levity.

“I’m sitting here ’cause you asked me to, Maddie, I can move you know.” He begins to rise out of the desk, gesturing for his friends to follow.

“No,” Maddie’s face turns quickly apologetic, “I was just joking with you. Please don’t move.”

Mason laughs and sits back down, grinning at his friends.

“I wasn’t going to move,” his smile returns, “I just wanted to see you squirm a little. Besides, Kara is my new hero, bringing down tyrannical teachers everywhere.”

Wanting to see him smile at me again, I try to think of a clever reply. Why can’t I come up with anything? The moment is becoming a prolonged, awkward silence. Come on, Kara, think. I’m losing my chance. A-ha!

“That’s right. This teacher better beware, one wrong move and I’ll spew forth justice.”

No one is laughing. Why is the room silent? Everyone is looking at the front of the room. The teacher is standing up there, staring right at me. What is wrong with me? When did the bell ring? Maybe I can convince my dad to move us to Alaska, or Siberia. I should just walk out of the classroom right now.

“Kara, is it?”

I nod and look down at my desktop. I can feel thirty pairs of eyes staring at me, mockingly.

“I see the nurse decided you were okay to stay in school. Do you feel better?”

I nod again, although right now, I am not feeling so good. I am so stupid.

“I’m glad you’re better. First days can be tough for all of us. Even I am always nervous on the first day.”

I look up at him. The rest of the class is watching him as well. Maybe I’m not in trouble.

“To make matters worse, I heard there was a vigilante student this year ‘spewing out justice’ and I got even more nervous. I will just have to be on my best behavior, and hope I do a good job, because these are my best khakis.”

The class laughs as he stands straight up with his hands at his waist in a generic super hero pose. He gives me a quick glance and a wink before walking over to his desk and introducing himself as Mr. Carroll. I smile back.