Instinct (4 page)

I smile weakly
and return to the movie, biting my lower lip to keep from crying. This was a
mistake.

I stand at the
entrance to the cafeteria, gripping the strap to my messenger bag so tightly my
fingers are numb. My eyes dart around the room, searching for Phillip, since he
is the only person to offer me a seat at lunch, but I don’t see him right away.
The cafeteria is larger than I’d expected, with round tables that seat eight
crowded all the way to the windows at the back. I am amazed anyone ever finds a
place to sit here and debate just finding a corner somewhere quiet to eat. I
saw students sitting in groups on the floor outside the gym as I walked from
class, and they seemed perfectly happy.

“I’m so tired
of being alone,” a familiar voice says behind me.

Unsure of what
she said, I just smile hesitantly. “Oh…uh…I’m just looking for somewhere to sit.”

Nicole shifts
on her feet and glances around. “Well, you can sit with me if you want,” she
offers in a rush, looking regretful almost instantly.

“That would be
great, if you don’t mind,” I reply honestly. She nods and motions for me to
follow her. We end up sitting in a nook created by an entrance to a lecture
room across from the gym, silently chewing on our respective lunches. I am glad
I packed mine this morning. The thought of getting a tray and searching the
cafeteria for a friendly spot is daunting. Everyone who is sitting out here in
the hall is eating a packed lunch. I take stock of the students around us and
decide that this must be where all the outcasts sit. So now I’ve identified
myself as one too.

We finish
eating and Nicole watches me apprehensively, once again reminding me of a
rabbit quivering in the presence of a deadly predator. I suppress an impulse to
laugh at this image of myself as dangerous. I spend so much of my time
shielding myself from everyone around me and the never-ending onslaught of
truth, that I’ve never viewed myself as anything but a victim. My opinion
changes now as I look at Nicole. She screams victim with every breath.

“I want a
friend so badly,” Nicole says.

“Sorry, what?”
I ask, turning my attention back to her.

“I said, where
are you from? Do you have a hearing problem or something?”

I smile
bitterly. “In a manner of speaking.”

Nicole flushes
and bites her lower lip. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…I was just kidding, I
didn’t really think…” she stutters, looking mortified. I hasten to reassure
her.

“Don’t worry
about it. I just have trouble focusing sometimes,” I explain vaguely, hoping
she doesn’t ask any more questions.

“I get it.
Sorry,” she mumbles. I can guess at her thoughts. Based on everything she’s
accidently revealed to me, I know her social circle is pretty limited, probably
to the point of nonexistent, so there’s no doubt she is kicking herself for
insulting a potential friend. I find myself warming to Nicole, the only person
apart from Phillip who has shown any interest in me at all.

“Seriously,
forget about it. Thanks for letting me sit with you,” I say, trying to change
the subject. She studies me sharply before she relaxes and answers.

“You’re
welcome. Not that it will do much for your status. I’m pretty much persona non
grata around here,” she says, shrugging offhandedly with long practice at
looking unconcerned. I decide right now that whatever else happens here, even
if I end up quitting by the end of the week, I will befriend this girl. I don’t
know what has caused her to be so lonely, but the long isolation that her
slumped posture and downcast eyes speak of calls to me, to that secret self
that I keep tucked away, even from my mother. The part of me that knows I’m a
freak, some weird abomination that should never have existed.

“Oddly enough,
that sounds pretty appealing right now,” I finally say, giving Nicole a weak
smile. Her eyes brighten before she looks away. After this, we seem to grow
easier around each other. I tell her about Williamsburg and my mom’s antique store,
how we moved because keeping a shop in the historic district had become too
expensive, and mom’s old high school friend had told her how much cheaper it
was to live in West Virginia. Nicole tells me she’s an only child and she’s lived
in Harpers Ferry her whole life. Since I’ve only been on a basic tour of the
town and pretty much just gone back and forth between home and the store since
arriving, she tentatively offers to show me around.

“That would be
great. I’ve been up and down the street with all the shops, but that’s about
it.”

“How long have
you been in town?”

“Around two
months.”

She looks
puzzled. “You didn’t come to school last semester?”

I shake my
head. “No, I didn’t want to start at the end of a semester. Technically I already
qualify for graduation. I just wanted to see what high school was like before
it was too late,” I say, a little too truthfully.

“Oh wow.
That’s the opposite of me. All I want is to get out of here.”

“Yeah, but I’ve
never been to school, remember? And at least this way, if it sucks completely,
I’m only in it for a few months.”

“A few months
can be a long time here, trust me,” she says cryptically. I frown at her and
she shrugs. “You may have noticed that I’m not surrounded by a group of adoring
fans.”

“Yeah, but...”
I break off, not sure what to say.

“Look you’ll
hear about it soon enough. I used to be fairly popular and everything, but
something…happened, and the people I thought were friends ganged up on me. They
were pretty cruel.” Nicole’s voice wavers and the shine of tears threatens to
spill over.

“I’m really
sorry.” She just nods and we don’t speak for a moment. “I’ve never had a
friend,” I say quietly, feeling like an idiot.

“Never?” she
asks, her eyebrows creasing in pity. I shake my head. “I’m sorry, that’s got to
be hard. Look, not to get all after-school special on you, but I could use a
friend right now…you know, if you’re interested.”

I give her a
brilliant smile, touched by how difficult it must be for her to offer.

“Definitely.”

Before we can
say more, the tone sounds and we get to our feet.

“What classes
do you have this afternoon?” Nicole asks as she swings her over-laden backpack
over her shoulder and brushes a hank of dark brown hair back from her face.

“I’ve got
English Lit next, and then Journalism.”

“I’ve got
calculus and gym. How did you get out of taking P.E. anyway? It’s required.”

I grin and
pull my bag over my head. “Mom argued against it. She said since I was only
going to be here for a semester, she wanted me to have all academics. The
principal didn’t really seem to care,” I tell her, hiding part of the truth.
The main reason was because my mom didn’t think I could handle working in teams
and playing sports with so many people. There wouldn’t be enough full
conversations, just people yelling things out randomly, and I would be too
distracted. I had to agree with her on that one.

“Lucky,”
Nicole mutters and I laugh. For a fleeting moment, she grins unselfconsciously
before her face closes down again and I feel like I’ve won a small victory.

“Do you know
where your class is?”

I have an
idea, but I figure it won’t hurt to let Nicole show me. She seems determined to
embrace the friend concept. “Kind of, but I could use an escort if you don’t
mind.”

“No problem,”
she says and leads me into the teeming mess of students pouring out of the
cafeteria. We head up a dilapidated-looking set of stairs to the second floor,
and I try not to trip on the worn linoleum. We emerge into a hallway I haven’t
been down before and I almost walk past it before I halt and stare in surprise.

“What is
this?” I ask, pointing to a locker that’s covered in fake flowers and permanent
marker with notes that say ‘I’ll miss you’ and ‘Be at peace’ all over it. A
picture of a smiling, pretty redhead is glued in the center.

Nicole’s face
shuts down completely and it takes her a moment to answer. “That’s Miranda.
She…died at the end of October. They’ve practically made a shrine to her,” she
says quietly. I glance over at Nicole and am startled by the fierce glow in her
eyes. “They didn’t even know her.”

“And you did?”
I ask, understanding.

She nods. “She
was my best friend, since we were kids. Then she started dating Phillip and
everything changed. He did something to her; I know he did. Someone doesn’t
just one-eighty their personality like that for no reason.”          

I am tempted
to push for more, but Nicole turns away abruptly and I have no choice but to
follow. We turn the corner and she pauses in front of a classroom door. “This
is your stop,” she says and then shifts on her feet awkwardly. I know she is
trying to decide something, so I wait, giving her a moment to figure it out.

“Look, people
might say stuff to you about me. It’s not true, okay?”

I frown in
confusion but nod. I’ll know if someone is lying anyway. “Ok. Is your offer to
show me around town still open?”

She is
surprised for a moment and then smiles cautiously. “Yeah.”

“Tomorrow
after school?” I ask.

“Ok. I have a
car, so if you want to catch a ride with me, we can leave from here,” she says
precisely, as though measuring every word.

“Sounds good. Let
me give you my number.” I program the number in her cell. “See you tomorrow.” I
wave goodbye and enter the room. Glancing back over my shoulder, I see she is
smiling to herself, an incredulous expression on her face before she turns and
walks away.

My English
class goes smoothly. After my initial flash of sympathy at learning that the
teacher, Ms. Harris, has breast cancer, I am able to relax and enjoy her
lecture about Shakespeare’s
Romeo and Juliet
. I read the passage over
and over again in my text, letting the words slide through my mind like water
on a parched throat. No hidden truths for me to decipher, just beautiful words
and a tragic story of loss. By the time the period ends, I am sad to leave. I
have had over an hour of peace, and I begin to rethink my earlier fear that
coming to school is a mistake.

I find my way to
the Journalism room without any help for the last class of the day. Shockey
looks up and beams at me as I enter. I dread what I will hear him say.

Instead, he
gestures for me to go to the smaller room at the back of the class. I hesitate
and then go in, finding a small lab with six computers and a sliding door
leading to an attached darkroom. I am the only one here, so I take a seat and
wait, disliking the slight trembling in my hands. After a few moments, several
students wander in, whispering quietly to one another. They break off when they
see me and exchange unreadable looks before sitting down and continuing their
discussion.

Shut out
again.

I hear raised
voices coming from the main classroom and the students across the room flinch
and look at each other in confusion. One, a short, pixyish girl with
shoulder-length blond hair, jumps up and hurries over to the door, ignoring my
presence completely. I watch her raise her eyebrows and glance back over to her
friend.

“I love
watching other people be miserable,” she says in a muted voice. The boy gasps. Another
girl walks in, her eyes wide.

“Cathy, what’s
going on?” the pixie girl asks her.

“I am in love
with Jake,” the girl named Cathy whispers. The boy who remained seated now hops
up and joins the girls, all of whom are oblivious to me listening in. I nearly
growl in frustration, knowing I am missing half of the conversation.

“What did he
say?” asks pixie.

“I have no
idea,” Cathy answers. “Shockey just called him up and said something and Jake
completely freaked out.”

“I want to bang
the new girl,” the boy says and the girls giggle. I jerk in my seat, aware no
one else heard him say this, but feeling like a huge spotlight has been thrown
on me nonetheless.

“Oh, whatever
Shane, you know Jake would never quit. He thinks he’s the boss here. Besides,
Shockey knows that Jake would print a story about finding him downloading porn
last year if he ever really pisses him off.”

“Yeah, but
look at him. His face is all red,” Shane says and darts a look over at me. His
glance is appraising and he grins widely. I smile back weakly, pretty sure that
I’m not going to like him. “Guys, we’re being rude. Hi, there. I haven’t seen
you before, are you new?” he asks me, perfectly affable. I swallow my initial discomfort
and try to answer normally.

“Yeah, I just
started,” I say. “I’m Derry MacKenna.”

The pixie girl
snorts and covers her mouth. “Dairy? Like a dairy cow?” she asks snidely. I
blink at the insult and stare at her uncomprehendingly. “Should we call you
Bessie?”

“Shut up,
Megan. Don’t be a bitch,” Shane says lazily and then gives me an apologetic
look. “Don’t worry about Megan; she can’t stand it when someone is prettier
than her.”

Megan snarls,
her face red, and I think he is probably right. Still, I’m kind of pleased she
is jealous of me; it means that I’m at least attractive enough to function in
high school, something I have been paranoid about all day.

“I was just
kidding. God,” she mutters, shooting me a poisonous look. I don’t think I’ve
made a friend there.

“Nice to meet
you, Derry. I’m Cathy.” The other girl sticks out a skinny arm and extends a
hand for me to shake. She is tall and thin to the point of being scrawny, with
a long face ending in a pointed chin. Her jaw looks sharp enough to cut a
steak. Flat brown hair clings to her skull, hanging limply around her
shoulders. Still, she has a pleasant smile on her face that brightens her skin,
and I can feel that she is genuine.

“And I’m Shane,
and obviously that’s Megan. Not that I’m not glad to see you back here, but are
you sure you’re supposed to be in the lab? Shockey doesn’t usually let new
students on the paper, and this is where we meet.” Shane is tall and bulky
without being fat. He wears a tight polo shirt that strains against the ropy
muscles in his arms in a way that screams weight-lifting. Dark brown hair is
cut short, buzzed close to his scalp with almost military precision. Features
slightly too heavy prevent him from being attractive, but based on the way the
girls defer to him, I’m guessing it hasn’t stopped him from getting his way.