"Ashley!"
I just about jumped out of my skin at the sound. She was leaning menacingly over my desk.
"Take off those headphones," she ordered. "I shouldn't be able to hear them. I could hear them all the way from my desk."
I sheepishly pulled the little earplugs out of my ears. She was right; the music was too loud. I usually played it more softly, and Ms. Kearst didn't seem to mind as long as I always did the homework. Either that, or she hadn't noticed. It's a rather small machine.
"I'll take that," she said, picking my MP3 player up off the desk.
"No!" I protested. "You can't do that! Do you know how much those things cost?"
"Yes, I can, and yes, I do. You'll get it back at the end of the year, I promise."
I was about to argue again, but she'd already gone on with the lesson. I leaned over to the kid sitting next to me and whispered, "can she do that?"
"I think she can," he answered.
Normally, I like Ms. Kearst. She's one of the more laid-back teachers: slower to enforce the dress code, quicker to assign extra credit, more accepting of a little mirth. And I had been wrong this time, even if I didn't want to admit it out loud. But I hated the prospect of spending the rest of the year without my MP3 player, my baby, my precious deliverer of blessed noise to my brain.
I had to get it back, somehow. I spent the last few classes forming a plan.
When school let out, I met up with Phoebe and told her I wouldn't be going to her house today.
"What? Why?"
"I just have something to do."
"What are you going to do?" she asked. She seemed vaguely suspicious, which didn't seem like her.
"It's nothing important."
"Then you shouldn't mind telling me, just to make me feel like you're not keeping secrets."
Damn. I hate that trick. "All right. Ms. Kearst took my MP3 player, and I'm gonna try to get it back."
"You mean you're going to talk to her and negotiate?"
The suggestion threw me off for a minute. Then I considered, and decided no. "That wouldn't work. I'm fairly certain she's not giving it back on my terms."
Phoebe raised one eyebrow. "Well, if you're convinced, there's nothing I can do to stop you. But I'll wait for you; after you're done, we'll go to my place, okay?"
"Okay."
I set off at a jog around the school, to a place that was surrounded on most sides by either buildings or fences. It was a frequent haunt for the smokers in the school, because of its seclusion- and I chose it for the same reason. I took off my jacket and crouched under it, and thought about the crow.
Of course, I knew there was a chance it wouldn't work. I hadn't tested the crow yet, and didn't know if I could do more than one animal. When I saw my nose growing out and hardening in front of my face, and my arms growing long, black feathers, I felt relief and pleasure. After I got over the initial gut reaction of shock and fear, of course. I could do it! Now I knew that if I could touch an animal, I could turn into it. I was slowly re-learning the laws of what I could and couldn't do, though I still didn't know how or why.
I continued to change and shrink until I got lost in a pile of my own clothes, and had to struggle and flutter to find my way out. I thought I heard a tearing sound as one of my toes, or talons, caught on a fold of fabric, but I didn't want to stick around. I flapped my arms- wings, rather- and soon was in the air.
It was so natural to the bird's brain that I was already over the fence and high in the air before I realized it. I looked down at the quickly shrinking landscape below, and shrieked with delight mingled with fear.
(WHAAAA HOOOO!) I shouted in my mind, gaining speed and altitude with every twitch of the bird's mind. This was better than a video game. More spectacular than the OmniMax Theater. A bigger rush than hunting as a cat, and certainly more fun than anything a human can do. I was flying! I wheeled and turned in the air, dizzy with the way the world seemed to spin under me.
Far below, I could see a girl with dark hair waiting in front of the school. She looked up at me. It was Phoebe! I started to go into a dive, about to tell her all about flying, and how cool it was.
Then I stopped. Did I really want to tell her? She's my best friend. I've never had a secret from her before. But I didn't even know what had caused this change in me; maybe I shouldn't talk about it until I knew more. But if I didn't tell anyone, or ask anyone, how could I find out?
Then I remembered my MP3 player. Part of me wanted to forget it; here was a much more stimulating source of entertainment, that didn't require batteries. But another part of me couldn't give up once I'd committed to something, and I didn't want to give up on this project just because I got a little distracted. I turned again, and tried to look for Ms. Kearst's classroom window.
I found I couldn't see through the glass, but I found what looked like the right place. I landed on the window sill and pondered my next move.
Anyone who skips classes regularly knows how to open the school building's windows from the outside, though the ones on upper floors generally don't get that kind of attention. It took a few minutes to figure out how to compensate for my lack of hands, and any significant body weight, but after a while I managed to open it up a crack and hop inside.
The room was empty, but the light was on and the door open; wherever Ms. Kearst was, she would probably be back soon to lock the room. I had to hurry. I fluttered over to the desk and started searching.
Before I could make any progress, though, I heard the door creek and instinctively jumped into the air. Ms Kearst was back, and was staring at me in surprise and… hate? Did she hate birds?
"Andalite!" she yelled, and before I could think to wonder what that meant, she pulled out what looked like a gun. All my vindictiveness fled, and I started flying in blind terror. She was pointing the weapon at me, or trying to, but seemed hesitant to fire it.
I caught sight of the window, still slightly open, and regained just enough lucidity to aim for it. Unfortunately, Ms. Kearst saw where I was going, and slammed it shut before I could get there. Pulling up short, I turned and headed out the door instead.
Flapping hard through the windless hallway, with an enraged teacher in close pursuit, did not prove to be as fun as soaring freely in the fresh air. Apparently it's hard to fly indoors, though at least I seemed to stay ahead of Ms. Kearst.
I rocketed down the hallway, and around every corner and twist, until I couldn't remember what part of the building I was in. My wings were exhausted. I felt myself slowing down, and at the same time heard running footsteps behind me. She was catching up, and I didn't know what would happen if she got me.
Just as I was about to give up and take my chances with her, I felt a slight movement in the air that made me feel better somehow. I looked up and saw light, streaming in through an open door, and smelled fresh air. A man in a uniform was holding the door open for me.
With a new lift of energy I zoomed through the door and then climbed as fast as I could up into the sky. Below, I could hear Ms. Kearst swearing.
"That was nice of you, Miss, helping that bird out. I wonder how it got inside," I heard the man say. I didn't wait to hear her reply.
I flew in lazy circles for a while, resting my tired wings and going over in my mind everything that had just happened. What was with her? A normal person, upon finding a wild bird inside, might try to help it get out. At worst, they might be afraid of getting bitten or something. But to chase it down with a vengeance? And what was that word she said? Ana-something. Maybe I'd misheard.
I descended back to my hiding place, where my clothes were still in a crumpled pile in the corner. I looked around the area obsessively before landing, to make sure nobody would have even a partial, fleeting view of me while I changed back to my human body and got dressed.
When I finally sprinted back to the front of the building, Phoebe was still waiting, and looking very impatient. When I got within earshot, she said, "What took you so long? I was starting to get worried."
"I had a brush with security," I said, feeling bad for not telling her the truth. "I didn't end up getting it. Can we not talk about it right now?"
"What happened to your shirt?" she said, pointing wide-eyed at a large tear down the front of my tee. I wondered for a moment why I hadn't noticed it while dressing, and started to zip up my jacket to hide it.
"Must have gotten caught on something."
As we walked away together, I continued to think about what I had seen and heard. I came to the conclusion that Ms. Kearst's behavior had some connection to my new shape shifting ability, and I had to find the explanation for both. The way to do that, I thought, was to spy on Ms. Kearst.