Convergence - The Last Science #2.1 - In Plain Sight

B2: Chapter 16 - Rebirth - III

  The principal pressed her hands into her forehead. "Jenny, I need you to explain what happened."

  Natalie slowly shook her head, doing her best to stay still despite the oppressive feeling of the room. This was the fourth or fifth time now that she'd been in there alone, and it wasn't getting easier. "I dunno what you mean."

  "For heaven's sake, Jenny! You've got a giant bandage taped to your face!" The old woman sat back in her chair, studying Natalie intently. "I'm worried about you."

  "I'm okay."

  She got to her feet and walked around the desk to sit in the chair next to Natalie. Despite her best effort, Natalie recoiled a little and inched away. She frowned. "...Jenny, anything you say to me will be totally confidential. Do you know what that means?"

  "That you'll keep it secret."

  "Yes. No matter what, unless you tell me otherwise, I won't share a word. It's my job to take care of every student in these halls, and you're one of my students." She leaned forward a little, and Natalie shrunk away even further. The principal frowned. "Is someone hurting you, Jenny?"

  "No," she said quickly. "This was just an accident."

  "Do you remember the last conversation we had?"

  Natalie already had an answer ready for that. "Nothing happened to anyone though. Just me. So it's okay, right?"

  "...That's not really the point here, Jenny."

  "I'm okay, and no one else got hurt, so can't I just go back to class?" It wasn't exactly the truth, but it wasn't really a lie either. No other students got hurt, and Natalie couldn't imagine the principal cared about... them.

  "If you're okay, then take off the bandage."

  She faltered. She'd been too afraid to look underneath it alone, nevermind in front of the principal. "I don't think I'm supposed to yet," she said, playing for time.

  "How long ago did this happen?"

  "Friday night?"

  "Have you changed it or taken it off since then?"

  "...No."

  The principal shook her head. "You need to check it and make sure it's clean. If you don't, it could become infected."

  "I think it's okay." Natalie had actually looked up information on that online, and—with a bit of help from some spell details posted online—cleaned the area herself with a bit of magic. It was a combination of temperature manipulation and using Movement magic to scrape off dirt and gunk, and it seemed to work really well. It was extremely nerve-wracking, since she could slip up and cut herself, but it meant she could clean up without actually removing the bandage. She could even clean herself without actually taking a shower, if she really wanted to, but it sounded like way too much effort to do all the time. Besides, showers and baths felt really nice.

  "I'm sorry, but I insist. If you won't take it off, I'll have to call the school nurse, and then it'll become a formal inquiry into how you were injured." She sighed. "I think we want to avoid that, right?"

  Natalie nodded. Very slowly, she reached up to the bandages adorning her face. There wasn't any way around it, as much as she'd hoped otherwise. She'd known that they'd probably make her take them off, but she'd kept a vague hope she could keep hiding it right up until that moment.

  With a faint gasp of pain, she pulled the tape off and let the bandage fall away.

  The principal gasped in turn. "Oh my God..." she murmured. "Jenny, what happened? Who did this to you?"

  "I told you, it was an accident."

  The old woman shook her head. "No one's going to believe that. Do you know what this looks like?"

  Natalie shook her head. The principal reached into her desk and pulled out a hand mirror, holding it up, but she averted her eyes. She was still afraid to look.

  "It's better to know than to avoid it forever, Jenny. You'll have to see it sooner or later, unless you've got a few thousand dollars sitting around for laser surgery, and even with treatment it'll never disappear entirely." The old woman's harsh voice softened. "It looks clean though, if that makes you feel better. I think you'll be okay."

  Slowly, Natalie lifted her eyes back up to the mirror. There she sat, and Natalie was shocked at how different she looked. She rarely looked at herself even before all of this. In her mind, she was still a little kid back in Rallsburg, straight from a picture she'd taken of her with her dad. Short-haired, round-faced, the cute little kid everyone wanted tagging along on their team because she was loud-mouthed and always excited and driven to win. She'd known who she was back then.

  The girl in the mirror was so much older, even just two years later. She'd grown a lot, for one. Her hair covered up a lot of her face like a curtain as it tumbled down to her chest. But besides that, Natalie could see it in her own expression. She looked exhausted and worried, like it were permanently etched into her face between slightly drooping eyes and a tight-lipped mouth. She didn't like anything about how she looked anymore, and that was before her gaze even made it to her left cheek.

  The scar glared at back at her—a harsh thick dark line at the edge of her left ear, spun outward in a dizzying spiral, ending when it reached the edge of her eye socket. It was the mark she'd seen on the other members of the gang, though theirs had been rougher and less clean. Hers was almost elegant, in a way—or maybe that was just her imagination. To her surprise, it wasn't as frightening as she'd expected.

  It was a record. For the first time, Natalie felt like she understood the obsession everyone else seemed to have with scars. She'd been through something horrific, but she'd survived. They hadn't beaten her. She'd made it home. The scar didn't mean she wanted what had happened to her. It didn't mean she was a crazy thrillseeker. All it meant was a reminder. It was in the past.

  Don't let it define you.

  She hadn't understood what Cinza had meant at the time, but now she thought she did. It was always going to be a part of her. She'd never forget, but she didn't have to let that scar be the only thing people saw. Her friends had shown her that.