Chapter 3: Temo de mi Sombra (afraid of my shadow)

"Hi, there!"

Isabel jumped, her eyes wide and alert as Curly Gamelthorpe leaned against the soda machine, smiling down at her. The hand he wasn't leaning on was shoved casually into the pocket of his stonewash jeans, and his maroon golf shirt had a penguin stitched in the top left-hand corner.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doin' way over here?" He continued, his 'ladies-man charm' running full throttle, but Isabel didn't say anything to him, only stared.

Curly grew slightly worried by this, but didn't let it show through his dashing smile. He had ditched the coke-bottle glasses years ago, replacing them with contacts, and his hair was only a couple inches off his shoulders, cut in a style that was popular in the mid-seventies.

"Curly Gamelthorpe." He volunteered, reaching out a hand to her. Isabel looked wearily at his extended hand, and as if she were being forcedshe reached up with a trembling right hand. Curly smiled wider and shook her hand vigorously before she practically pulled away.

"Isabel." She said in a very hushed tone, so quiet that Curly just barely heard her.

"Isabel, huh? Nice. You just moved here, right?"

Isabel nodded lightly.

"Whaddaya think?" He asked, and she lifted her shoulders ever-so-slightly in a weak shrug.

"It seems weird at first, but you'll get used to it. Everybody does eventually, they have to. Where'd you move from?" He asked then.

"Michigan." Isabel replied quietly, shifting the food on her plate around with a fork.

"Near the Amish folk? Cool, I went there once with my dad. You get to ride those buggies and stuff?"

Isabel shrugged lightly again, just as the bell rang.

"Well, I guess I'd better get goin'. See ya later!" Curly said, turning to go.

Isabel stayed where she was, watching the rest of the teenagers gather their things and exit the Mess Hall in a mad rush, talking with each other all the while. She seemed to be the only one who wasn't hurrying to get out, and Arnold noticed this as he followed behind Gerald toward the doors.

Quickly calculating the time between now and when he had to be in class, Arnold walked swiftly through the double doors and side stepped out of the crowd, waiting.

Once everyone had gone from the Mess Hall, Isabel slowly began to gather her tray and bag and stood, heading for the counter where she set her tray among the others. Then she headed for the doors, only to be side-tracked.

"Hi!"

Isabel nearly screamed, leaping backwards almost three feet, her hand flying to her chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you-" Arnold apologized, bending down to pick up Isabel's bag, which she had dropped.

"Here." He said, handing it to her.

She hesitated at first, then slowly, she reached out and gripped the strap.

"Thank you." She said, almost in a whisper as she started down the hall again. Arnold jogged a couple steps to catch up with her.

"Mind if I walk with you?" He asked, and she only shrugged lightly.

"I'm Arnold, I sit across from you in class." Arnold said conversationally as they walked among the half-crowded hallway.

Isabel didn't respond, only kept walking. Arnold found this very odd, and he also found that he didn't know what to say next.

But luckily, it wasn't long before they were both back in class.

"So what do you think?"

Arnold ended his explanation of the events with the new girl to Miss Wright, the Sixth graders' History teacher. She was a nice lady in her mid-twenties, with long black hair that she kept back in a ponytail. She was almost as tall as Arnold, and very thin with only slight curves. She usually wore jean overalls with a small t-shirt and light blue, button-up sweater.

All the high school students knew her, and some even knew her pretty well, like Arnold. They all called her by her first name, Sarah.

"Well," Sarah said, lightly sifting through a stack of papers as she spoke. "I'm not sure what you want me to think, Arnold. I could ask the principal if he knows anything about her, like her past and such." She paused then. "But it would probably be better if you simply got to know her a little more." She knew Arnold, and she knew that befriending people was definitely not something that was difficult for him.

Arnold sighed slightly, twirling a pen in his fingers much like a computer geek he'd seen in a James Bond movie.

Noting his distress, Sarah set the papers down and folded her arms on the desk. "Arnold, is it bothering you that much?"

Arnold looked up, and frowned. "I don't know. She's just so weird..."

The young librarian smiled. "You've barely known her a day, give her a chance. Maybe she just needs a friend."

"That's what I thought, too. But like I said, she'll barely talk to anybody. It's like she's afraid of people, any people!" Arnold said, and now it was Sarah's turn to sigh. She could tell Arnold was very upset about this girl, and she had always been able to help him before.

"Arnold, the only thing I can tell you is to just keep being a friend to her, I'm sure she'll come around. Worrying never added years to anybody's life." She said with a smile, and Arnold returned it, though weakly.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He said, getting up to go. "Thanks, Sarah."

"Anytime, kid." Sarah said as she watched him go.

What she hadn't told Arnold was that someone else had been there earlier to talk to her about this new girl, too, but it seemed to have been for a different reason.