A/N 9/20/17: So, several years later, I'm back in an attempt to find my will to write again. I'm starting with this story, and editing the existing chapters to add in a new dialogue/interludes/maybe chapters as I go. Sorry that I disappeared, and I hope that some of you are still around and interested to see what's up.
Her fingernails were jagged.
She had picked at them until her skin stung and she'd started bleeding, curled up in thick blankets and hidden behind towers of brown boxes in the new house. Her mother had tried to draw her out of her room and stem her anxiety, to little effect.
"… and the office is going to take a photo for your ID card and give you your schedule…"
Painting them had done little to stop her nervous gnawing, and instead she had found herself peeling off chipped teal nail polish with every bite. Other online remedies suggested covering her fingers in band aids or soaking her nails in hot pepper juice to make them unbearable to taste, but her fingers were too sweaty to keep the band aids on and the smell of the peppers set her stomach on edge.
"… but maybe this place will be better, Genie... Honey? Are you alright?"
With an unfocused blink, Genie looked up from her nails and to her mother, sitting in the driver's seat. The car was already stopped in the parking lot, and her mother was leaning on the center console with a concerned look on her face. She reached out a hand to swipe a stray lock of curly brown hair out of Genie's face.
"I'm okay, mom," she murmured, rolling her eyes in an attempt to shake off the building bubble of dread that had dropped into the pit of her stomach.
"You look like you're going to hurl."
Genie ignored the jab and straightened in her seat, looking out of the front windshield as she absentmindedly set about picking at her fingernails again. Her mother reached over to still her fidgeting and patted her thigh, and cleared her throat. With a small sigh of exasperation, and a hint of a smile on her face, Genie rolled her eyes and looked up at her mom. "Are we going to do this on every first day, mom? Come on. I'm not five years old anymore."
Her mother scoffed, reaching out to shove her daughter's head in mock-annoyance. "We're going to do this every first day. It's our thing. You think I do this with your brothers? No, baby girl. This is just for me and my Genie," she beamed, pulling at her daughter's cheeks to get a rise out of her.
Genie laughed, unbuckling and turning to face her mom more fully. Her cheeks hurt from how wide she was smiling, a mirror look on her mother's face. Her mother began to sing in a low tone, the sound soothing the racing flutter of her heart. She let her eyes slip closed, focusing on slowing her breathing and calming herself as her mother smoothed her fingers across her cheeks. Sinking forward into her mother's across the center console, she began to hum along to her mother's voice. It was her song, a song her mother had made especially for her when she was born, and one that she sang to Genie whenever she was upset.
With a smile on her face and a little bit of renewed determination, Genie pulled away as her mother reached the end of the song. "I love you, mom," she said quietly, reaching for the door handle.
"And I love you, Genie," her mother replied, giving her back a gentle push as she exited the car with her backpack slung across one of her shoulders. "I'll see you when I get home from work tonight, yeah? You sure you still want to walk back today?"
Genie gave a small smile, nodding her head in affirmation and shutting the car door. She hesitated for just a moment by the school doors, looking back at the car to see the pensive look on her mother's face slide into a warm smile as they locked eyes. With a small wave, Genie spun back to the door and slipped inside. The sudden wave of loud laughter and chatter was broken only by the echo of slamming lockers and scuffing sneakers, and it took the air from Genie's sail. Three schools in five years and yet Genie still couldn't shake her nerves. Experience didn't mean anything when it came to this kind of situation. Being the new girl would always suck.
The ID that the office gave her was immediately hidden at the bottom of her bag and promptly and vehemently forgotten about, uncomfortable smile and all. Her schedule that the front office had given her that morning was worse for wear by the time Genie had made it halfway through homeroom. She had smoothed it out multiple times throughout the short period, trying to remove the folds that had settled into the paper as she attempted to memorize her schedule. By the time the bell rang, Genie thought she had at least the first three classrooms memorized, and figured that was the best she could do. With quick steps, she took off down the hallway, carefully weaving through the busy maze of people.
First period, she was sure, was English on the other side of the building. Picking up her pace, Genie shoved a hand into the pocket of her mossy-green cardigan, clenching and unclenching her fingers quickly to try and ease her stress. She wanted to tear into her fingernails again, but she knew biting them any further would only be a pain. Reaching the door to the classroom, she took in a quick breath to steel herself and walked towards the desk in the front. An older woman, with kind eyes and laugh lines etched around her mouth smiled at her from over a stack of books.
"Hello there. I don't think I've seen your face in my class before, have I?" she asked, extending a hand. Genie's lips drew into a tight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she reached out to shake the woman's hand. "I'm Mrs. McKnight."
"No, ma'am. I'm Genevive Cary. Transfer student," she replied. Her own grip was weak against the other woman and she retracted her hand with a bob of her head, swallowing nervously.
"Of course, Miss Cary. It's a pleasure to have you. I believe there's a seat towards the back, behind Miss Tate, the one with all the highlighters back there. I'll grab you a textbook and be right back."
Genie turned and walked with small, quick steps towards the back of the room, eyes glancing over the other girls to find the one with the highlighters. It was hard to miss her. The girl had a pencil sticking out of the corner of her mouth and a highlighter stuck behind each of her ears. Another was sitting on her desk next to a nearly destroyed eraser. Her hair was wild and falling into her eyes, seemingly blocking her vision, but she continued to scribble hastily at her notebook with a black pen. Walking past the girl, Genie set her battered schedule down on the desk as quietly as possible and grabbed one of her notebooks from her bag, trying to ignore the sudden uptick in whispers from around the steadily filling room. She took her seat quickly and slid down, ducking her head to write 'english' in neat lettering across the cover of the notebook. Despite trying to make herself as small as possible, the whispers didn't stop.
There was no warning when the girl in front of her whirled around, her dark eyes keenly focused on Genie as she pulled the pencil from her mouth. The girl raised an eyebrow, her expression caught somewhere between confusion and vague fascination, as Genie pulled her cardigan more securely towards her middle. That slow, bubbling dread had practically been streamlined into her veins as she sat with her head tilted down, praying that the girl would turn back around. She didn't. She continued to stare at Genie for a moment before finally speaking up.
"Is there something wrong with you?" she asked bluntly, brows drawn together. Genie lifted her eyes to look at her, mouth popping open in disbelief at the girl's question.
A textbook dropped onto her desk and Genie jolted in her seat, sitting up a little straighter to find Mrs. McKnight standing beside her. Despite her tiny stature, she proved an imposing figure with the look of disappointment on her face. "Miss Tate, that is entirely unacceptable behavior!" she reprimanded, staring the girl down. The girl flinched and turned her head to look at Genie again instead.
"I didn't mean in, like, a bad way," she backtracked, her words rushed together as she shook her head. A pink highlighter fell out from behind one of her ears and slid across the floor. "No, seriously. Like, I can sm- I can practically smell you freaking out. You seem way too nervous, so there's either something seriously wrong with you or- I don't know- I just-"
"Miss Tate! That is enough. I find it very troubling that you find it appropriate to…"
Genie tuned out of Mrs. McKnight's lecture and slumped in her seat, looking away from the girl's earnest and frazzled eyes. The whispers had dulled to a low hum, giving way to poorly hidden snickers as the girl in front of Genie got chewed out. By the end of the day, Genie was sure the story would have traveled across the school and everyone would know her as the girl that something was wrong with who had to be defended by a teacher.
"Feel free to come and see me if you have any questions at all, Miss Cary."
Tilting her head up, Genie could see the kind, if not pitying, smile of Mrs. McKnight as the bell rang to start the period. The girl in front of Genie shifted until she was almost turned sideways, and ducked her head down so she could speak in Genie's direction quietly. "I didn't mean it as a mean thing. You just seemed way off whack or-"
"Or what? I'm nervous. Can't I be nervous?" Genie whispered back, a small quaver in her voice. Nervous and humiliated. She could feel her face aflame as her eyes darted to look at some of the other students in the room, not paying attention as Mrs. McKnight began to write on the board. When she let her eyes come back to the girl in front of her, she noticed the puzzled look aimed in her direction.
The girl had turned to face Genie almost entirely and tilted her head, reminding Genie of a confused dog for a moment. "I mean, yeah, you can be nervous, but… I mean, it's just school."
Genie clenched her hand around her notebook, curling the pages a little. School had never been easy for her. She had always been quiet and extremely self-conscious around large groups of people. It didn't help that, usually, just when she was getting comfortable in a single school, she would have to move. Her mother's job kept them flitting about the country so she could close deals and work companies through mergers, but it rarely kept them in a single place for more than two years.
"I don't have very good social graces," she muttered begrudgingly, turning her eyes down to look at her book. The girl's face was suddenly much closer, moving into her eye-line, with a much gentler look upon her face.
"My friends say I don't either. I'm Malia."
Genie blinked stupidly at her for a moment, a tiny smile curling across her lips to match Malia's. She could feel her face heat up as she moved to sit up straight again, flipping open her notebook absently.
"Genevive. You can, uh- Genie. Call me Genie," she said, smiling a little wider when the girl nodded and flashed a wide grin at her.
"Cool. You mind grabbing my highlighter?"
"Miss Tate!"