Kara's Cross
Chapter 4

“Miss Eldridge,” her voice more sympathetic than I would have guessed it would have been, considering what just happened. “You should probably go see the nurse and maybe even go home and get some rest. I will see you tomorrow. Class, the rest of us are going to relocate for the day into Room 154 down the hall. I will join you there in a few minutes, after I have cleaned myself up a bit. Would anyone like to volunteer to escort Miss Eldridge to the nurse’s office?”

Yeah, right, like anyone is going to want to be around me.

“I’ll take her, Mrs. Pickford.”

I look out in the direction of the voice. In the back, along the side, I see the girl from the bathroom this morning. She looks surprised at her own words, as if she didn’t mean to speak at all. She is still wearing the skirt she had on this morning, but she is now wearing an old looking t-shirt, about two sizes too large.

“Thank you,” she glances down at her desk at a paper filled with rows of pictures. “Madison, is it? Just take Kara to the nurse and then go to Room 154 after you drop her off.”

“Okay, Mrs. Pickford.” She begins to gather her stuff together.

Not anxious to be the center of attention any longer, I get to my feet and turn toward the teacher.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Pickford. Would you like me to help clean up?”

My voice is a shaky whisper. She might not have even been able to hear me.

“Thank you, but no, you should just try and get better. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

The class is not going to stop staring at me. Nothing could possibly make this day any worse. I’d better not think like that, I‘d probably trip and break a tooth before I get out of this room. I position my body toward the front of the room as much as possible, hiding from their stares. The hall provides a safe haven of solitude while I wait for Madison. The sun is shining brightly through the windows at the end of the hallway, making the disaster that is today even more evident.

“The nurse’s office is this way. There’s a bathroom, too, if you’d like to wash up first.”

I jump at her voice, but begin moving in the direction she indicated.

“Thanks, Madison, for volunteering to take me. I can make it on my own, though, if you just want to go back to class.”

“That’s okay, Kara, I don’t really like school much anyway.”

We walk in silence for a while.

“Kara?”

Madison’s voice breaks the silence, light and hesitant.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you about the bathroom this morning? I’m really thankful, but I guess I don’t understand what happened.”

I had a feeling this was going to happen when she volunteered. How can I explain something when I can’t even fully grasp the concept myself?

Fatigue washes over my body. The lunchroom tables are just up ahead. A few minutes sitting on one of those benches should help me get some strength back. I don’t know if I would be able to make it to the office without stopping, anyway. Especially if Madison expects me to talk about what happened earlier.

“Let me rest for a minute, and then I can talk to you.”

We sit down beside each other on the stools of the nearest lunch table. It’s completely silent and I relax for several minutes. I give the occasional sideways stare in Madison’s direction, but she doesn’t appear to notice. Her head faces down toward her lap, her eyes looking like they are staring into nothingness. I would guess there is a sadness there, and a sense of defeat. I suddenly feel connected with her in a way I’ve never felt with anyone other than family.

“Why are you staring at me?”

I guess I’m not so good at being subtle.

“I’m sorry, Madison.” I am not sure what else to say. I just know I want to make everything right.

My silence must have been the trigger she needed.

“I’ve never really fit in, Kara. I don’t know why either. I try to be nice. I follow rules. I try to dress like everyone around me. I’ve tried being quiet. I’ve tried making conversation. I’ve even tried acting like everyone around me, but no matter what I do, I end up being nobody.” Her eyes become shiny with tears, but none spill onto her cheeks. She looks up at the ceiling before burying her head in her hands. Several moments pass before she looks up and begins speaking again.

“I thought today was going to be different. My mom rearranged some bills so she could give me a little money, and I bought a nice outfit for school. I thought that with all the students from the other middle schools, I would be able to make some friends and change everything. Except, in reality, it’s only second period and at least three people want to kill me, my new outfit is destroyed and I’m wearing my brother’s ratty old gym shirt.”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before wiping her eyes.

I still can’t think of anything to say. I’ve felt like her so many times.

“I guess we were both hoping for a better first day of school. No one’s going to want to be friends with a girl who passes out in a bathroom and then throws up all over a teacher.”

“Probably depends on the teacher,” Madison gets a serious look on her face. “I can think of a few teachers I’d love for you to throw up on.”

Is she kidding?

Madison breaks out in sudden laughter. Her smile spreads across the entire length of her face.

“Think of it, Kara,” Madison chuckles while speaking. “Hi, Mrs. Starling. Remember when the kids in class were making fun of me and you pretended not to notice? I have a present for you. Bleeaaaghh!”

Madison’s amusement increases. Picturing a few of the teachers I’ve met so far in my head and imagining their reactions, I burst into laughter, too. My head instantly reminds me of the pain I’d almost forgotten, but I don’t want to stop. I haven’t felt this carefree in so long.

“I guess it could be handy other times as well,” I add. “Like this morning, you could have said, ‘Yeah, I smiled at your man, but I saved this for you,’ and wham, right in their faces.”

I giggle to myself at the idea, replaceing the visualization in my head surprisingly satisfying. Still chuckling a few minutes later, I turn and realize Madison has stopped laughing.

Madison’s voice sounds curious and serious, “What happened this morning?”

I can tell she is still freaking out. Not that I can really blame her. It freaks me out when I think about it. I have never seen, met or even heard of anyone who can also do what I am able to do. Just as importantly, I’ve never even told anyone about it, not even my dad. On the other hand, I’ve never had a witness to my actions before. Denial isn’t an option. The truth will be hard for her to believe, I came up with all kinds of different explanations over the years. A well thought out lie will probably be easier for Madison to comprehend.