AN: Sorry for the delay! I ended up getting extremely sick and I'm still recovering. Thanks for your patience.
High school. Marco once called it a terror beyond any battle we'd ever fought as the Animorphs. He was being sarcastic, mostly.
I never really loved or hated school. I wasn't one of those kids who got picked on a lot, but I also wasn't the popular kid. I had my friends, I did fine in classes, and that was that. I think probably being friends with Rachel helped a lot—Rachel was very popular but she was known for refusing to let anyone pick on her friends.
I smiled a little as my parents pulled up to the school in our rental car, remembering one time a kid pushed me down and Rachel gave him a black eye. She was like that, even when we were in elementary school.
My dad parked the car in the loading and unloading zone, and I looked out a bit nervously. There were so many kids, and they looked so young. After the incident at the mall, I wasn't sure what was going to happen, if they were going to treat me like a freak or a celebrity.
Dad seemed to feel my hesitation, because he put a hand on my shoulder—slowly so I saw it coming. "You don't have to do this now," he said gently. "You could wait until the next semester starts."
I shook my head and picked up my backpack slowly. "Thanks, Dad. But I don't want to get further behind." It wasn't entirely true, or at least it wasn't all true. I did need to catch up so I could get into a good veterinary college. But mostly I didn't want to sit at home any more, thinking, without even the distraction of working in the clinic. There wasn't enough to do to keep distracted, and this was something I could focus on.
"Okay, Cassie. If you're sure, but remember, if you need to, you can call us and we'll get you, all right." He let go of my shoulder so I could slip my backpack on.
"Thanks, Dad. I'll be fine." I wasn't sure about that, but I figured there was no reason to make him worry. I took a deep breath and opened the car door, walking slowly into the school as I heard my dad drive away.
I'd already met with the school counselor, so I had my locker and the books I'd need, as well as my schedule. Math class was first, so I just had to go to my locker, pick up my books and notebook, and find the classroom.
Just a short walk. Not a big deal.
I could feel everyone staring at me. It made my shoulders itch, made me want to find a bathroom where I could safely morph and get out of here. Some of them stared and then looked away, but more of them just stared openly, not talking until I walked past.
I tried to remind myself that they were staring because we'd been on TV, and not because they were Controllers out to kill or enslave me and my friends. It still made me very nervous, and I found myself short of breath and my heart racing by the time I made it to my locker. I took longer than I had to getting my supplies for math class, double and triple checking that I had everything. The last thing I wanted was to forget something and then have everyone notice.
When I closed my locker, I noticed several people had congregated and were staring at me, but when I turned to look, they scattered like they were afraid of me.
Maybe they should have been.
I tried to pay attention in class, but the teachers were hardly any better than the students. They seemed not to know how to treat me, and seemed too nervous to actually call on me even if I raised my hand. By the time I got to lunch, I was starting to think school was a terrible mistake. I really wasn't looking forward to the lunchroom.
I used the bathroom first, wanting to avoid the big rush and getting crowded in with so many other people. I took a breath before I opened the door, hoping people would be too busy to pay attention to me.
I only got a few feet before silence fell. The entire lunchroom just stared, some of them pointing, some of them murmuring. I felt the blood rush to my face and tears sting my eyes, but I made myself walk towards the lunch counter.
That was when the clapping started.
It was slow at first, but then more of them joined in. The teachers and lunch workers did too, some of them standing.
They were clapping. Clapping. Like I was a sports hero, or a character in a movie.
I had killed people. I might have killed some of their family, and they were acting like it was all—like it was some sort of game.
I dropped my lunch tray and ran.
I wasn't really paying attention, I just ran out the door and away from people, away from the crowd. I found a room that didn't have any lights on, and yanked the door open, closing and locking it behind myself, and then running behind the teacher's desk at the front, and sitting down, head on my knees.
I found myself sobbing hard, hating this school and everyone in it. Hating that they had no idea, no idea what it was really like. They didn't know me, and they didn't know us. They had no idea what we'd done. The terrible choices…
I heard the door lock click and the door open.
I tried to smother the noise, but I wasn't very successful. There was a pause and then the light flicked on before I heard the door close and footsteps head towards the desk. I tried to wipe at my eyes and stood up, figuring I might as well try to face whoever it was.
The woman standing there had a teacher's badge that said Valarie Keyes. She was about my height or maybe an inch or two shorter. She had tight curly hair that had more than a bit of grey and skin that was a few shades lighter than mine, and the sort of nice-but-practical clothes that a lot of teachers wore: a blouse and skirt, a sweater, and flat shoes that looked like they'd be comfortable to wear for eight hours on your feet every day.
"S-sorry," I said, trying to control my breathing a bit.
She smiled a little, not unkindly. "Not the first time a student's cried in my classroom. Why don't you have a seat—it'll be more comfortable than sitting on the dirty floor."
I sat in one of the student chairs, and she gave me a box of tissues before settling down in her own swivel chair. She didn't stare, and she took out a book to read, sort of like she'd listen if I wanted or pretend I wasn't crying if that was better.
I did keep crying for quite some time, using up most of her tissue box before I ran out of tears. When I started to run down to sniffles instead, I gathered up the used tissues and threw them out. "Sorry. Thanks."
She set her book down and looked up with a kindly smile. "You're welcome." She paused a moment. "You'll be Cassie Price, I take it?"
I nodded, worried she was going to get weird about it, but she just opened a planner to check something. "You're in my fourth period English class, I believe. Mm, yes, there you are," she confirmed as she found the page she was looking for.
I realized she was right, and this was one of the classrooms I'd located with the counselor. Probably I'd headed for it without thinking. "Oh." I knew it was a stupid thing to say, but I wasn't sure what else to say.
"You're welcome to stay until class starts, if you want, and you can eat lunch here if you like, at least on days I don't have meetings. I can write a note for you. I eat lunch in the lounge and only come back when I have work to do, so you'll have it to yourself for at least part of the time." She said it matter-of-factly, not like a favor or like she was afraid I might break.
Still, I didn't want any special treatment. "You don't have to do that. It was just, um, too much for my first day."
She shrugged a little. "You're news, I'm afraid. In a week or two, they'll get interested in something else and stop treating you differently, but until then, it might make it easier not to have to eat with a crowd."
I hesitated but then nodded. "Thanks. It's nice of you."
"It's practical, don't you think? It's never easy to go back to school after such a gap. We might as well make it easier." She turned on her computer and logged in, turning back to work and letting me get settled.
I nodded, swallowing past a lump in my throat. Such a gap was an understatement, but I appreciated her not treating me differently.
Maybe school would be tolerable after all.