Mogie's fault. Gonna go ahead and say this is in the same universe with The Coffee Incident. Cause Mogie apparently has camped in my head or something.
Never written in a kid's point of view before, let alone a seven-year-old, so please forgive any…oddities.
Sitting at the kid's table eating lunch, Katie watched as Mr. Bishop—or Walter as he told her to call him, but mom always told her to call older people mister or missus, so she listened to her mom instead of Mr. Bishop—left the classroom.
The room smelled funny, kind of like when someone was rude in their car and made the tires scream. She hated that smell. Mr. Bishop said she didn't need to worry about it, but she wasn't worried. Just curious. Like when he asked her to sit down in the chair and held cards in front of her and asking what the picture was when she couldn't see it.
A couple times she guessed right. She was really proud of that. He was too. She could tell.
Now Mr. Bishop was quiet because the microwave exploded. The other kids didn't ask him questions when he was upset. Katie did.
She dropped her peanut butter and marmalade sandwich and scooted back. The other kids, only three others, looked at her but went back to their lunches. Katie couldn't stand not knowing. And Mr. Bishop never got angry at her questions. He actually smiled most of the time, and said she asked very good questions.
Katie followed where he left into the hallway to his office. The door wasn't closed and he was inside, so Katie walked right in.
"Mr. Bishop," she said, and knocked afterwards because that was polite.
"Yes, Katie?"
She stood in front of his desk, but couldn't really see over it. Only when on tiptoes. "Are you upset because James broke the microwave?"
He smiled and came around the desk to sit in the chair she usually sat in. "Not at all. In fact, I expected as much. James is a volatile young man."
"He's very noisy and doesn't listen."
"No. No, he doesn't. But it all works out in the end."
Katie watched as Mr. Bishop stood and dug around his desk, finally pulling a tin box out of a drawer. A lunch box, but not an interesting one. No pictures or anything.
"In fact, this leaves you, Katie, with a perfect opportunity," he said as he took out a thermos and poured the soup out. Katie didn't like soup, but he ate it a lot so she didn't tell Mr. Bishop that.
"Now," Mr. Bishop smiled, "concentrate on the soup and see if you can warm it up."
She looked at him. "You want me to be a microwave?"
"Well, it's the perfect time to try since we don't have one anymore. And I'd like to see what else you can do."
When she stared at him a moment longer, Mr. Bishop shifted the thermos lid closer, quietly asking her to do as he asked.
Katie sighed, and pushed her hair out of her eyes so it wouldn't tickle her forehead while she concentrated.
It was weird, using her abilities, as Mr. Bishop called them. Like rubbing your hands together really fast to make heat. Or watching a movie with the sound turned way low. The abilities were there, but not really there. It was frustrating. Like right now with the soup. She frowned. Mr. Bishop was talking, she thought, but couldn't hear him over that sound, like someone whispering in her ear. It tickled and she couldn't hear what it said very well, but suddenly that noise was quiet and steam curled over the soup.
She'd done it.
She'd done it!
Katie leaned forward, nose almost in the soup. Steamed warmed her face, made it a little wet. She looked up at Mr. Bishop, grinning.
Warming something up was new.