Too Small To Be Afraid

Chapter 8

My hair is fussier than usual today, I realize, as I struggle to put it up in a ponytail. Maybe it's because of the drier Chancelor air? Or, maybe it wants to stay home from school today just as much as I do? No, that's silly.

After a fair amount of fussing, I manage to get my hair up the way I want it. I take a moment to look myself over in the mirror, feeling no more at ease wearing the green and gray uniform for Pacific Deskmate High School than I did yesterday morning. In the mirror's reflection, a small stray pretzel bag catches my eye. I turn around to collect it from its place on the floor beside my trash bin, which is already overflowing with scrapped sketches and more small pretzel bags. I had packed my overnight bag with various snacks before the move, and while I didn't eat them during the trip, they proved useful yesterday when I didn't emerge from my room for lunch or dinner, despite Dad's knocking.

Oh, right. Dad.

After I came home from orientation, Dad was eager to know what I thought of the school and what my deskmate was like. Since I wasn't ready to talk, I ignored him and hid away in my room. Knowing I'm going to have to face him and his questions again fills me with dread. I already have the school to deal with, I don't need this! I heave a sigh, hesitate for a moment, and quietly turn my bedroom door handle.

There, on the other side of the door, I find Dad, hand raised as if he were just about to try knocking. I bite down on the inside of my cheek as we stare at each other in dead silence.

"Oh, you're already awake," Dad finally says. Come get some breakfast before you go, okay?"

I'm about to nod my head when a foul stench fills the air.

"What's that smell?" I say, covering my nose with my hands.

"Gah!" Dad exclaims, "I left the eggs too long!"

As he runs off to the kitchen, I can't help but wonder how much time he spent standing in front of my door hesitating to knock. I don't blame him for having a hard time knocking, considering how much I've been ignoring him since yesterday.

I reluctantly make my way to the kitchen in time to see Dad dumping his scorched eggs into the trash. I take a seat at the table and watch him grab the liquid egg carton to start over.

"So," he says, keeping his attention on the stove, "are you excited for your first day of school?"

Am I excited? Seriously? Can't he take a hint? I clench my fists as my blood boils within me. Not wanting to escalate things, I take a deep breath and hold it.

"Not exactly," I finally sigh.

"I know you're upset with me," Dad says, "but like I've been saying, I wouldn't send you to this school unless I thought it would be good for you. I'm doing this because I love you, Kaylin."

So sending me to a school full of the very people I'm afraid of is supposed to be an act of love? I grind my teeth at the idea. If you ask me, it feels like being thrown to the wolves. How am I supposed to navigate a situation like this when I have this stupid fear? This isn't going to work out, he'll see. He won't win.

After a moment or two, Dad slides a plate of eggs in front of me. "Trust me," he says, planting a kiss on my head.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Although excited chatter from new students fills the human halls of Pacific Deskmate High School, you can still sense the back to school blues emanating from the returning students. I, on the other hand, am experiencing something entirely different—pure terror.

Taking a deep breath, I close my locker and begin walking to the balcony. My insides twist at the knowledge that I'm going to have to be handled by a perthean all day, every school day, for the rest of the school year. Maybe it would be easier if the guy I got stuck with wasn't so desperate to talk to me. Then I could at least tune him out and try to forget he's there, although that would be hard to do when I'm in his hand.