“What makes you think it’ll go away?”
Oh, please. I grab the Pop-Tarts and sit at the table, not facing her. As long as I can keep my voice even, no one ever knows I’m lying. “Just being cautious.”
She goes back to her coffee. Every few seconds she takes a deep breath, and I worry she’ll ask about where I was last night or if I’m mad about Graham. But she doesn’t. All she says is, “I was worried about you.”
The words surprise me, but at the same time I bristle. “Where was your worry for the last nine years?”
She shrinks. “That’s not fair, Fiona, and you know it.”
“Whatever. I’m taking the car,” I say on my way out. The door slams before I hear her reply, which is good because I already feel guilty enough.
The second I park, I feel eyes on me. I thought I was used to staring, but this is different. Around my dad’s people, it feels like admiration. People fear me, but they also secretly want to be me. At Madison High School? It’s more like they’re trying to bore into my skin with their hatred. I’m not sure if I blame them or not. If I were some normal girl with freckles and pointed ears, maybe I would act the same way. Not that it’s right, but I get that I’m a freak.
The second I get to home ec, I’m sure it was a bad idea for an elective. We’re not sewing until winter. There’s no way I’ll be here that long, so I’m stuck cooking. The banana-bread mush in the mixing bowl makes me sick. I can’t help thinking it looks like barf, which makes me want to barf.
English, the only other class I haven’t been to yet, has the same familiar faces, including Bea and Brady. Bea smiles as she motions for me to come over. I wish I could sit in the front row so I don’t have to witness the glares, but the only open seats are by her.
In math, Ms. Sorenson passes the tests back … except mine. “Please go over the problems you missed. Miss McClean, may I see you for a moment?”
Forcing myself from my desk, I make my way to the front of class. “Is there something wrong?”
“Have a look.” She slides my test over.
I peek under the cover sheet, and a big green F stares back at me. “Oh.”
“I’m assuming you haven’t covered these concepts yet.”
“Not exactly.”
“I’m willing to let this slide, but you need to catch up, and fast.” She grabs a slip of paper to write on. “I have a student who runs a tutoring class after school. You’ll probably need to go for at least a month to make sure you can keep up.”
The last thing I need in my life is more math, but I take the slip and my test so I can get back to my desk.
“Let me guess,” Bea says. “Tutoring?”
I wish my hand would actually cover the piece of paper. I turn it over. “It’s not really any of your business.”
“It’s no big deal.” She smiles. “I’m in it, too. The tutor, Seth, is really helpful. You should come with me today.”
“I’m not going. My tu …” I pause, suddenly unsure if I should tell the truth. “We weren’t this far at my other school. I can catch up on my own.”
She pauses, looks at Brady with a little frown. “Oh, well if you go tomorrow or any other day, I guess I’ll see you there.”
“Yeah.” I stare at her, trying to understand why she’s being so nice. Even with her tank and shorts, I can’t see a jaguar tattoo. Maybe she’s not with Juan, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t some ulterior motive. Other students seem to avoid her and Brady, so there has to be something up with them.
At lunch, they invite me to sit at their table, but the last thing I want to do is eat in the cafeteria with all those eyes on me.
“No thanks, I need to use the computer,” I say as they follow me.
“Ugh!” Bea stomps her foot. “You know what, Fi—?”
Brady wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Chill, Bea.” He looks at me, so close to catching my eyes I can’t seem to breathe. “It’s hard, huh, having people act like you’re a
Oh, please. I grab the Pop-Tarts and sit at the table, not facing her. As long as I can keep my voice even, no one ever knows I’m lying. “Just being cautious.”
She goes back to her coffee. Every few seconds she takes a deep breath, and I worry she’ll ask about where I was last night or if I’m mad about Graham. But she doesn’t. All she says is, “I was worried about you.”
The words surprise me, but at the same time I bristle. “Where was your worry for the last nine years?”
She shrinks. “That’s not fair, Fiona, and you know it.”
“Whatever. I’m taking the car,” I say on my way out. The door slams before I hear her reply, which is good because I already feel guilty enough.
The second I park, I feel eyes on me. I thought I was used to staring, but this is different. Around my dad’s people, it feels like admiration. People fear me, but they also secretly want to be me. At Madison High School? It’s more like they’re trying to bore into my skin with their hatred. I’m not sure if I blame them or not. If I were some normal girl with freckles and pointed ears, maybe I would act the same way. Not that it’s right, but I get that I’m a freak.
The second I get to home ec, I’m sure it was a bad idea for an elective. We’re not sewing until winter. There’s no way I’ll be here that long, so I’m stuck cooking. The banana-bread mush in the mixing bowl makes me sick. I can’t help thinking it looks like barf, which makes me want to barf.
English, the only other class I haven’t been to yet, has the same familiar faces, including Bea and Brady. Bea smiles as she motions for me to come over. I wish I could sit in the front row so I don’t have to witness the glares, but the only open seats are by her.
In math, Ms. Sorenson passes the tests back … except mine. “Please go over the problems you missed. Miss McClean, may I see you for a moment?”
Forcing myself from my desk, I make my way to the front of class. “Is there something wrong?”
“Have a look.” She slides my test over.
I peek under the cover sheet, and a big green F stares back at me. “Oh.”
“I’m assuming you haven’t covered these concepts yet.”
“Not exactly.”
“I’m willing to let this slide, but you need to catch up, and fast.” She grabs a slip of paper to write on. “I have a student who runs a tutoring class after school. You’ll probably need to go for at least a month to make sure you can keep up.”
The last thing I need in my life is more math, but I take the slip and my test so I can get back to my desk.
“Let me guess,” Bea says. “Tutoring?”
I wish my hand would actually cover the piece of paper. I turn it over. “It’s not really any of your business.”
“It’s no big deal.” She smiles. “I’m in it, too. The tutor, Seth, is really helpful. You should come with me today.”
“I’m not going. My tu …” I pause, suddenly unsure if I should tell the truth. “We weren’t this far at my other school. I can catch up on my own.”
She pauses, looks at Brady with a little frown. “Oh, well if you go tomorrow or any other day, I guess I’ll see you there.”
“Yeah.” I stare at her, trying to understand why she’s being so nice. Even with her tank and shorts, I can’t see a jaguar tattoo. Maybe she’s not with Juan, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t some ulterior motive. Other students seem to avoid her and Brady, so there has to be something up with them.
At lunch, they invite me to sit at their table, but the last thing I want to do is eat in the cafeteria with all those eyes on me.
“No thanks, I need to use the computer,” I say as they follow me.
“Ugh!” Bea stomps her foot. “You know what, Fi—?”
Brady wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Chill, Bea.” He looks at me, so close to catching my eyes I can’t seem to breathe. “It’s hard, huh, having people act like you’re a
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