"Hey, hey! Ho, ho! Vote for Allison Montero, hey, hey!"
It had been a tumultuous morning at George Bernard Shaw High, full of slogans, tired printers, and lost tape dispensers. Maria was relieved that Liz seemed to feel better, but she still kept an eye on her. They had gotten to school an hour early to brainstorm, and after multiple slogans that sounded like elementary school rejects, they finally had one that sounded presidential.
"Elizabeth Anderson-Hummel: Putting YOU first!"
"That's perfect!" Liz bounced up and down in her seat and waved her hands excitedly. Her and Maria had taken an entire lunch table to themselves, and had spread all of their materials out to cover every inch of space possible. A few markers had fallen to the floor, and a stack of ruined posters sat next to them on the bench, decorated with messy lines, uneven letters, and misplaced glue. Lizzie's enthusiastic face beamed on each of them, giving a winning smile. Her and Maria had tried to convince themselves that the black and white photos made Liz look more professional, but in reality, they had to make do with their school's lack of budget and colorless printers.
"Hey, what's with the art project?"
Cheyenne had gotten to school with a few minutes to spare, and joined Liz and Maria at their table. She elaborated, sounding worried, "Did I miss an assignment?"
"No, no!" Lizzie explained, accidentally sending a marker flying behind her. While Liz excused herself to retrieve it, Maria continued for her, saying, "Lizzie and I are finishing up with her campaign posters!"
"Oh, cool! You're campaigning, too?"
Liz froze, marker in hand.
The bell rang.
"Oh, crap! Liz, Cheyenne and I have Drama, we gotta go!" Maria took off towards the staircase, Cheyenne in hot pursuit.
"Bye, Lizzie! Good luck!"
Because of course Cheyenne is running against me.
Popular.
Talented.
Gorgeous.
Perfect Cheyenne.
Liz sighed, closing her eyes and rolling the marker between her palms. Overhead, she could hear the echoing footsteps of students walking to class, and the quiet roar of their blended voices.
"What's the matter, Lizard? Gonna cry?"
Lizzie jumped again, to no avail. Ben was nearly a foot taller than her, and was holding her homework far out of reach. This cruel game had been going on since October, and Liz couldn't possibly imagine what she'd done to deserve this. Only two months into high school, and her work was being held hostage.
"Come on, use those legs! You gotta want it!"
"Liz? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"
Lizzie was brought out of her thoughts by the soft, stern voice of one Ms. Lake. She turned to see her teacher approaching, looking concerned and disapproving. She had chosen to don a five second updo and blue lipstick that day.
"Where are you supposed to be right now, hon?"
"History…" Liz looked down at the marker she was still holding. The green stains on the outside had smudged on her fingers.
"With who?" A stray hair fell out of the clip in Ms. Lake's hair, joining the many others.
"My classmates?"
Ms. Lake laughed. "No, I meant your teacher. Are you with Steppe or Ryleigh?"
"Oh! I'm with Ryleigh."
"Let's go, then. Not even October and you're already trying to skip?"
Lizzie's eyes grew wide, and her heart sank to her knees. "No, I didn't mean to, I would never skip class, I-"
"Sweetie, I'm joking with ya."
"Oh. Sorry."
Ms. Lake sighed, smiling sternly at Lizzie. "Come on, get to class. Tell Mr. Ryleigh that I sent you, and you'll be excused." She pointed a finger at Liz. "This is the only time I'm doing this for you. From now on, you will get in trouble for being late. Got it?"
"Got it!"
"Alright. Get going."
A few minutes and one nervous explanation later, Liz was in World History One. She glanced at Nate, who was chewing on a pencil eraser at the left of the tiny classroom. Two seats behind him sat Trent, wearing a disgusted expression. She made her way to the vacant seat in between the two. Once she had settled in and pulled out all of her things, she could finally hear what the teacher was saying.
"Okay, two more minutes to finish the 'Do Now', guys."
Liz opened her notebook and flipped to the next blank page. She fished a green pen out of her pencil case and began to work on the 'Do Now'. Lizzie investigated the board and read;
"Do Now: Name at least three things that define civilization."
'Oh, that's easy!' Lizzie thought to herself as she dated the top of her page.
Okay, architecture should be one…
Click. She clicked her pen.
I think trade is one? Or is it commerce?
Click.
Click.
Click.
Suddenly, Liz felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned in her chair to see Trent looking slightly disparaged. He whispered, "Can you please stop clicking your pen? It's really distracting."
Liz hastily set the pen down, feeling guilty. "Sorry, it helps me focus. I'll stop."
"Thanks." Trent went back to his work.
Lizzie didn't.
Distracting?
Does he think I'm annoying?
Did everyone think the clicking was annoying?
Oh god, everyone must hate me…
"Time's up!"
Wait, no, I'm not finished!
"Does anyone want to share some answers?" A few hands went up. Mr. Ryleigh chose a boy in the middle of the class, who answered, "Division of labor?"
"Good!" The first example was added to the board. "Another one?"
"Urban areas?"
"Yes!" Another answer on the board. More hands had gone up, but the teacher was scanning the room for those not participating. His eyes landed on Liz.
Please, no.
"Elizabeth? You got anything?"
"... Architecture?" She absentmindedly clicked the pen once more, feeling the imprint on her thumb.
Mr. Ryleigh gave an encouraging smile and explained, "Not exactly, as that could be categorized under urban areas, but good guess!"
Everyone's looking at me.
They must all think I'm stupid.
"Communication?" Another person had offered an answer.
"Correct!" Added to the board. "Alright, one more!"
Nate offered the last one, which was 'Administrative Infrastructure.' Liz made sure to write everything down, because she would most likely forget it in an hour. Her memory was weird. She couldn't remember what she had for breakfast that morning, but she could remember what she wore on the first day of second grade, down to the ladybug clip in her hair.
"Hey, Lizzie!"
Liz's gaze shifted from her work to Nate, who had turned his head in such a way that resembled a demonic possession. He had a small grin on his face. "You're running for president, right?"
Click. "Uh, yeah."
"I'll vote for you!" Nate gave Liz a thumbs up.
Bewildered, she responded, "Thank you very much?"
"Do you need help putting up posters?"
Suddenly, Liz and Nate heard a loud sigh behind them. Liz looked back at Trent, who seemed thoroughly annoyed at that point.
"I'll tell you more when class is done, I've already distracted everyone enough."
Nate snickered. "Okay, then."
Mr. Ryleigh's voice ended their conversation.
"Silence is golden, guys."
The rest of class consisted of discussions of Mesopotamia and its neighboring city-states. Liz did her best to keep up, but her notes became more and more unreadable the faster she went. The green ink had stained her right hand, adding to the marker stains already present. Once the bell rang, Liz tried to look for Nate in the hallway on her way to Algebra, and saw Trent instead. She ran to catch up to him, as he was quite a bit taller than her.
"Hey, um, Trent?"
Trent closed the notebook he had been writing in. "Yes?"
"I'm really sorry about bothering you during History. I can move my seat from you, if you want."
Trent ran a hand through his black, curly hair, looking uncomfortable. "It wasn't that. Well, it was, sort of? But, it was what you said after that bugged me."
Liz thought back, to no avail. "I don't remember what I said, do you?"
"Liz, it was less than an hour ago." Trent furrowed his brows in confusion, holding his notebook in a tight grip.
Liz bounced on her heels, and answered, "I know, but my memory's not the best."
She didn't know what she said to get Trent so excited all of a sudden, but his face broke into a smile, and he exclaimed, "Wait, do you have ADHD?"
"Shush, Trent, be quiet!" Lizzie whipped her head around to see if anyone heard. They were surrounded by people, but no one seemed to care. "No one here knows that I have it."
Trent grabbed her by her wrist and pulled her into a nearby, less crowded hallway. Liz tried to free her hand, but wasn't successful.
"Trent, can you please let go of my wrist? That kind of hurts…"
Trent let go of her, his green eyes still wide with excitement. He tilted his head curiously. "Why would it hurt? I didn't grab you that hard."
"Uh, I have sensitive wrists?"
"Oh, okay." Barely skipping a beat, Trent continued. "I'm on the spectrum, and I've read a lot about how autism and ADHD share a lot of traits!"
"Oh!" Admittedly, Liz had also read a lot of online articles about ADHD, and quite a few of them had compared the two conditions. There had also been a lot of articles that straight up denied that either of them existed.
"Yeah, I was diagnosed when I was seven." Trent readjusted his book bag on his shoulder. "What about you?"
"Uh, officially? When I was twelve." Lizzie cracked her fingers. "I've had three therapists tell me that there wasn't anything wrong with me. The first one told my parents that I was just being a hyper little kid. The second one told me to go on a diet. And the third one said I was just making excuses and that girls couldn't have ADHD."
"That's obviously not true. You were clicking your pen like crazy during history, and you couldn't remember what you'd said less than an hour ago. Those are obvious signs of an attention disorder." Trent shrugged off his bag and began rustling around for something. Finally, he pulled out what looked like a Pom Pom. "This is a Koosh Ball. I forgot that I already had one in my bag and packed a second one. You want it?"
"What does it do?"
"It's a toy for stimming. I figured you could use it during class and not distract anyone, like you did during history."
Liz took the toy from Trent. It was small, covered in soft spines, and was half green, half yellow. She rolled it in her hands, and giggled.
"It tickles!"
"You can squeeze it or throw it when you need to focus or calm down. I saw that you were playing with a Rubix cube at lunch last week, but I don't think our teachers would be okay with you doing that during class."
Like a lightbulb, Liz suddenly remembered something. "Wait, I was talking with Nate about running for president!"
Trent snapped his fingers, bouncing slightly. "That's it! Thank you! You see, I'm running for president, too!"
Liz squeezed her new toy and grinned at Trent. "That's awesome! Cheyenne is running, too!"
"Yeah, I saw some of her posters up near the science labs this morning. I saw her putting them up yesterday."
"She got a head start, then." Lizzie motioned for her and Trent to start making their way to Algebra together, a class they shared. As they made their way up the nearest staircase, their sneakers squeaked on every step. "Well, I can help you with your campaign, if you want."
"But I'm running against you."
"And? What's a competition without worthy opponents?"
Three classes and pages of untidy notes later, Liz and Trent had grabbed the table next to the stairs to design Trent's posters. Lunchtime was loud and chaotic, as always, but miraculously, the noise didn't deter their creativity. A few minutes of coloring went by, and the two were joined by the rest of their group, Nate, Cheyenne, and Maria, all three of whom were carrying food.
"Awesome, Trent, I didn't know you were campaigning, too!" Nate plopped down in between Liz and Trent. Maria and Cheyenne moved to sit on opposite sides, with Maria besides Trent, and Cheyenne next to Liz. Cheyenne's hair was up in an intricate braid that day, and she wore a glistening emerald bracelet. Liz stared, mesmerized.
"You like it?" Cheyenne fiddled with it, the silver chain catching the light. "These are real emeralds! My mom got it for me for Christmas last year."
"So!" Nate grabbed a yellow marker off of the table. "You guys got room for three more designers?"
Trent seemed taken aback, now that both of his competitors were offering to help him. He nodded hesitantly, uncapping his own black marker. They worked the rest of the period, taking breaks in between to eat. Liz couldn't help but glance at Cheyenne every now and then, how her few stray hairs shook when she laughed, how her dimples showed when she smiled, and how she stuck out her tongue when she was concentrating. After a few minutes, Liz found that she laughed whenever Cheyenne laughed, and that she felt warm whenever she looked at her. While Maria and Nate were deep in conversation, and Trent was engrossed in lettering his current poster, Cheyenne handed Liz a red marker and said,
"I really hope you win."
"That's not something you say to your competition!"
"I mean it!" Cheyenne gently nudged Lizzie's shoulder, and the warm feeling returned. "My mom has been so frantic about me winning this stupid election. I'm only doing this to make her happy."
Liz was sick of all the hair in her face, so she retrieved a hair band from her bag. As she was putting up her hair, she asked, "She's your mom, shouldn't she be happy no matter what you do?"
Cheyenne laughed sarcastically. "My mom is all about appearance and status. I've been going to auditions since I was little, and no matter what I say, she never listens to me." She sighed, and continued. "But, she is my mom. I know she loves me despite how weird she is. I just wish she would lay off. I feel like I should have won an Oscar by now, with how much she wants from me. I'm only fourteen."
"It doesn't matter if your mom loves you. If she's making you uncomfortable, tell her! She shouldn't expect that much from anyone, let alone her child!" Liz tightened her ponytail. "You're not a renowned actress, you're a kid."
Cheyenne smiled, her dimples once again making an appearance. "Thanks. I know it's strange to hear this from someone you don't even know all too well."
"It's not strange." Liz tugged on a curl that had already come loose. "I would tell you something like that. I trust you."
Cheyenne's eyes glistened. "Really?" She sounded disbelieving.
"Really."
"So," Cheyenne grabbed a yellow marker and uncapped it. "Would that make us friends?"
Liz squeezed her red marker tight, once again feeling warm.
"Yeah. Friends."