by Rena Rocford
Come on, machine, go faster.
Jed laughed louder than the rest. “She eats so many Skittles, if you pop her zits, they’re blue inside.” The boys all laughed.
Forget the Skittles. I turned to leave.
“Hey, Allyson, I think you’ve got Skittles under your face. No wonder you wear so much makeup. If my face were breaking out in a case of–”
“Whoops.” Beth slammed her shoulder into Ed, who fell into Jed, dropping his soda to the ground.
“Hey, watch where you’re going, ogre.” Jed brushed at his shirt.
“I’m so sorry.” Beth’s voice was falsely sweet, ruining any actual attempt at an apology. “But sometimes I’m just so clumsy.”
“You’d better watch it,” he said.
“Or you’ll what? Tell Mrs. Alister?” Beth raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go well.”
“You’re a hippo, I swear.”
Beth grabbed the front of his shirt and twisted her fist. “Surely you meant to say something else, perhaps an ox, or a gorilla, or anything that can run a touchdown, or twist your sorry little neck into a pretzel.” As she spoke, she pulled him closer to her face, which meant she lifted him off the ground, one handed.
Yeah, Beth could scare a werewolf out of his hide.
“What’s going on here?” Vice Principal Blanders rushed over.
Beth set Jed down. “I was just straightening his shirt, Mr. Blanders.”
“I’m sure, Miss Whitlocke. Move along, then.”
Beth hurried to me. “Don’t listen to those rats.”
“Hey, Skittles!” Ed yelled.
I heard a rustling and spun on the spot. Before I’d come to a stop, I sensed something hurtling toward me and snatched it out of the air. Opening my hand, I revealed the projectile. He’d thrown my Skittles at my head. I looked up from my hand to the three boys still standing in the line. They all stared at me, their eyes rimmed in white.
“Shit,” Jed whispered.
“Mr. Harris!” Mr. Blander’s lips pinched into a tight circle at the indignity of such words.
Ed’s eyes looked like golf balls. “Freak.”
Steve kept staring at me, barely blinking. Then he nodded in agreement with the others.
My blood turned cold. How could I have thought he was cute? Jerks. The world was full of jerks.
“Ignore them.” Beth forcibly pushed me toward the exit. As we hit the doors, she grinned. “Why don’t you try out for the football team? What a receiver!”
Dry wind pelted into me as we stepped outside. We cut across the courtyard to Mrs. Gunderson’s classroom, and slipped inside. Today’s journal topic was written on the chalkboard.
Actual chalk; I swear, this place was in the Stone Age.
Beth snorted at the board. “‘What mythical creature would you most like to be?’ Great, now I have to reminisce about that in English, too.”
“It doesn’t sound so bad. What would you pick?”
Beth stared at the chalkboard without seeing it. “A Pegasus.”
“Why?”
“Are you kidding? They’ve got everything, strength, speed…” She paused. “Grace. And they fly. It’s the triple threat of mythical creatures. You?”
“I don’t know, maybe the dragon thing isn’t that bad. But what are the rest of them like? I wouldn’t want to live with a bunch of twits, even if they are superior warriors, fire breathing, wise beyond all measure…” I stopped when Beth raised an eyebrow. “What?”
She checked the room to make sure we were still alone. “The point is to fantasize about something you’re not.” It was the first mention of last night between us all day. I held my breath, but Beth kept smiling at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Well, what? Am I supposed to say kraken, or Minotaur or something? How about a unicorn, would that be corny enough for you? I could pick a My Little Pony while I’m at it.”
Beth’s laughter rumbled across the room. Mrs. Gunderson came in through the door to the teacher’s rooms.
“Oh, don’t mention the unicorns, they’re such jerks,” Beth said. “They sparkle like vampires, and think they’re saving the rest of the world from evil. Who do they think they are? Repressing ingrates incapable of–”
“Ladies, is something wrong with your lunches?” Mrs. Gunderson asked.
“I just wanted to get a head start on the assignment,” I lied. I still needed to do my homework from last night.
Mrs. Gunderson pursed her lips, and all thought of magical creatures and kidnapping trolls fled my mind.
he afternoon passed in a blur, and I tried to keep my head down. My hair drooped across my face, but it failed to create a field of invisibility around me. It was like a black curtain of doom, no light in, no light out. Damn zits. Why did I have to have so many?
The gong of the last bell reverberated through my American Institutions class, cutting off Mr. Andrews. At least the bell meant he had to stop talking about our civic duty to pay taxes. I was only in the class because nothing else fit into my schedule. That was the joy of transferring every few months. I’d never completed a class, but I had lots of snippets. Last semester, I took most of Driver’s Ed., even though I wasn’t old enough. Sometimes school was more like glorified babysitting. At least in math they let me go on in the book like I’d been there the whole semester. Math was the same everywhere. Add two and two and it equaled four. It didn’t matter what school, what state, and no one ever questioned me after I passed the exam.
I lagged behind, gathering my stuff and waiting for the other students. I tucked each and every pencil into its little slot in my backpack. I wasn’t OCD, I just wanted to give everyone else enough time to clear out so I wouldn’t have to deal with Jed the jerk or Ed the ass.
“Miss Takata, is something the matter?” Mr. Andrews asked.
I hated when they called me Miss.
“Just waiting for the rabble to clear.”
“Ah, well, if you’d like, I think we should talk about your grades.”
I drew in a deep breath. Here it comes. He was going to ask why I didn’t do a good job on my homework. And I needed to try not to hurt his feelings when I told him his class wouldn’t even matter because I’d transfer out of here by April. My next school might have me taking woodshop for my sixth period.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Andrews. I’ll try harder on the next exam.”
“Actually, I thought you did fine on the exam. I want you to start turning in your homework. It’s obvious you know the material.”
“But you have a no late work policy.”
“I’ll waive it if you give a presentation next Monday on what it’s like to live in a city other than Albuquerque,” he said.
I stood there like a deer caught in the headlights.
“That shouldn’t be too hard. I just want you to give a fifteen minute presentation and answer the other student’s questions. Most have never travelled out of the metro area, let alone the state. It might be nice for them to know that McDonald’s doesn’t serve green chili on cheeseburgers in Vermont.”
I laughed, and it rang off the walls. Vermont had its graces, but spicy food wasn’t one of them. My mother couldn’t handle small towns. Burlington wasn’t big enough, and if your neighbor knew your name, that was too much information as far as she was concerned. Worse, Vermonters thought ketchup was one of the Three Spices made by God. The other two were salt and pepper. All other spices were just crazy, and quite frankly, ketchup was a little wild.
“So, you’ll do it, then?”
I hesitated. Hell, knowing Mom, we might pack up and leave by Sunday.
“Sure, I’d love to.”
“Great, then I’ll see you tomorrow, with tonight’s homework in hand.”
I grabbed my bag and fled before Mr. Andrews could come up with something else I could do to earn back the right to turn in my homework. I hit the door with my shoulder, and it swung away in the breeze, banging into the doorstop. The wind pinned it to the wall, a
nd I had to manhandle it closed. One nice thing about having a school in the desert, people didn’t hang around the outside lockers once the winds kicked up. And Albuquerque had winds. I wrapped my jacket around my chest and leaned into the gritty air. The lockers ran along three buildings connected with walkways and windbreaks.
When I got to my locker, I turned the knob and yanked open the flimsy metal. As I dumped all the books inside, I considered the American Institutions tome. A little homework wouldn’t kill me. I dropped the book into my bag, and slung it over my shoulder.
“There you are.” Steve appeared like magic, blocking the entrance to the locker alcove. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”
Imagine that. “What do you want?”
Tumbleweeds blew by, rolling into the side of the building before following the wind around the corner. It was practically a scene from an old western. Now, if we could say our lines and be done– “I just wanted to apologize.”
“For what? Demeaning me in public or throwing candy at my head?” Okay, compared to being chased through the mall by trolls, the candy thing was nothing, but I didn’t have to tell him that.
“I tried to stop them,” he said.
“Yeah? Well, who threw the Skittles?”
He looked away, his amber eyes almost golden.
“That’s what I thought.” I pushed past him.
“Hey, wait, I’m trying to apologize here.”
I kept walking. All I had to do was make it across the giant street, through the bus station, and then I’d be free of him. He wouldn’t dare follow me into the apartment complex, would he? Head down, I swam through the wind.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I just needed to know.”
I glared at him. “Needed to know what? How much it might hurt if you hit me?”
“Is that what you think?”
He sounded genuine, but I’d seen these tricks before. People played each other up with ridiculous things. Then, once someone admitted something embarrassing like believing in aliens, or whatever the game was that day, the others would mock the confessor. If they caught it on film, it’d be on the Internet before the sucker finished blushing.
That was all this was. He probably just wanted to get me to say something damning, and then his friends would jump out from around the corner with a camera going. My humiliation would be plastered all over YouTube by dinner.
“Wait, can I just explain? Please!”
It was the please that got me. I stopped mere feet from the stoplight with its fist-sized pedestrian button. I turned back to watch Steve stumble up the curb. I couldn’t believe I used to have a thing for him. Then the wind caught his hair and ruffled it in that I’m-too-good-for-you model way. Well, he was nice to look at.
“Fine, explain, but don’t think I’m waiting for you.” I took the last two steps and hit the button for the light. I pounded it three times just in case the number of hits made any difference in how fast the light changed.
“It was a test,” he said.
“Did I pass?”
He nodded. “Oh, yeah, you passed.” He watched as motorcycles drove by. They looked like the same guys from this morning, but then again, all grizzled old bikers looked alike. For a second the smell of fog wafted over me, but this was the desert. There wasn’t fog here. Their bikes rumbled like a thunderstorm, cutting off all attempts at conversation.
Steve squinted into the sun, following the bikes. “You don’t belong, do you? No one ever fits in with you. That’s why you hang out with Beth, right?”
“I like Beth.” My words were calm, but my heart pounded in my chest. I’d known her secret for less than twenty-four hours. I didn’t want him asking about it.
Steely ice pounded through my veins. What would happen if he knew? I’d never heard of dragons and trolls except in fairy tales. Would it cause social anarchy to know that there were trolls living among us? I tried to shake the feeling.
He puffed out his laugh. “Of course you do. She’s the only one in school who gave you the time of day. That’s why she’s your friend.”
I turned my back on him, pretending to watch the street. “I don’t have to listen to this.” And maybe he was right. Beth was scary big, really strong, and the football coach wanted her on the team just to intimidate the opponents. She wouldn’t even have to touch the ball to scare the other guys out of their pants.
Oh, and she was a troll.
But she was the only person who talked to me when I got here in December. I’d wondered if I’d be more popular if she hadn’t been the first to extend the hand of friendship. There’s one thing all high schools have in common: the new girl might as well be bait. They would fight over my love and affection for the first month or so before I started to ‘fit in.’ But not here. Albuquerque had a way of scouring right down to my desiccated soul. My grades didn’t matter, because I’d never finished a semester in one school. I’d never been around to take the state boards for my grade level, but I’d studied for them in nine states.
And no matter how much they fought to be my friend in the beginning, they never texted me after I left. I got unfriended faster than mud dries in this desert. I was a pawn. A prize. An outsider only worthwhile for their popularity games.
Then there was Beth.
She was worth thirty popular friends.
“It’s just that you two are sort of–you know–similar.” His voice carried over the traffic.
How could he know? I only found out last night.
The wind buffeted into my face, and if I wanted to avoid eating sand, I’d have to turn back to him. At least he had to look into the wind to look me in the face.
And he did. He looked right into my eyes. “You feel like you don’t belong because you’re different.”
“Newsflash: duh.”
He shook his head. “No, you’re really different, and so is Beth.”
“Really? So, other than scaring the football team, how is Beth different?”
“Haven’t you ever wondered why she doesn’t go out for sports?” Steve asked. “It’s because someone with her heritage would blow away the competition.”
The light turned and traffic stopped. Finally! I jumped into the crosswalk.
“You’re crazy,” I called over my shoulder before he started walking.
“Wait! Why won’t you listen to me?”
“Because you’re about to say something like ‘Beth is a Cyclops with a good plastic surgeon.’ I’m not listening. It’s not like I’ll be here long enough for you to humiliate me. Go find someone else to play with.”
He followed me across the street. I took the sidewalk instead of cutting through the bus stop. I wanted plenty of time to lose him.
“I can’t believe you don’t know what I’m talking about.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Okay, what if I can prove that you’re different? Will you hear me out then?”
“Fat chance.” I plowed forward, giving him no opportunity to sway me from my path.
He stopped for a second. A gust of wind drove a tumbleweed bush the size of a compact car onto the sidewalk. I had to step into the street to dodge around. Steve ran to catch up. “What if I prove I’m different? Will you listen then?”
I spun on him and jabbed him in the chest. “You? Different? Do you think I was born yesterday? My god, what kind of idiot girls do they keep here in the desert if you think I’ll fall for such a stupid line?” I scanned the road before I turned the full force of my contempt on him. “You’re just like every other pretty boy on the planet. You’re so used to being worshiped that you can’t fathom a girl not falling for your charms. Well, guess what, model boy? I’m a freak, remember? So go back to whatever game you play with the normal girls, and leave me alone.”
I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. His steel grip clamped down on my forearm. “I’ll show you.” His face froze, jaw set. Still holding my arm in one hand, he pulled a knife from his pocket. It was a tiny thing, little bett
er than a pencil sharpener, or a keychain. Illegal at school, but the metal detectors wouldn’t go in until next year–according to the vice principal. Steve flipped the blade open with his teeth.
My heart thumped in my chest, and the wind blew harder, as if sensing the change. I pulled to get my arm away from him as the knife moved closer. He brought it down on his arm.
I drew my arm away, pulling it tight against my chest. “What are you doing?”
He pointed at his arm with the knife. “There, see, I’m different too.”
Blood welled up, and the scent of metal and moss filled the air, only to be whipped away by the wind. Along the line of the knife cut, a silvery material like liquid mirrors collected along the knife blade. As it dripped down his arm, it turned to the rusty red of regular blood.
“Well?” he asked, shaking his hair back away from his face. He raised an eyebrow at me, daring me to disagree with him.
This can’t be real.
“Let me see the knife.” I held out my hand. I couldn’t tell if I wanted there to be a trick or not.
He gave me the knife, handle first, but I didn’t need to see it. That was blood. I could smell it. And he always had an earthy smell of forests and things that grow. Loam, that’s what they called it. He smelled like loam.
The blade was silver. I searched for a hidden compartment that would let out the silvery stuff, but I already knew the blood was real. He had silver blood. When I looked back at Steve, he held up his arm and pinched it. More silver liquid flowed from the wound and turned red as it fell to the sidewalk.
“What are you?” I leaned away from him.
“I’m Kin, like you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You don’t know what I am.”
“I know you’re different. You’re Kin if I ever saw one.”
“What is that, Kin?”
“It’s just a name for the non-normal people.”
“And you’re not human?”
His eyebrows came together. “I bleed silver. Did you ever come across that in Biology?”
“How come the text books don’t know about you?”
He sighed. “We hide. And what about you? Are you running from something?”