The Girl Who Looked Beyond the Stars

by L B Anne

  “It’s fixed.”

  She moved in closer to me, smelling of flowers. “Are you sure it was broken? Looking at it, it looks like only your polish was broken, I mean chipped.” She shrugged. “See ya.”

  I meant to respond, but I couldn’t stop examining my nail. I know I’m not going crazy. My nail was broken. I was so upset about it because I had just started allowing my nails to grow and polishing them with Chana.

  “Mom!”

  “I’m back here!”

  I closed the front door and ran to the back of the house.

  She sat in the family room, folding clothes while watching television. “What are you so excited about? Was today a good day? You didn’t say anything you would regret, as you usually complain you do sometimes, did you? Like how you questioned your science teacher on the existence of atoms that time until he wanted to pull his hair out? You remember that talk we had about you not voicing every single thing that erupts from your brain?”

  “No, mom, that didn’t happen. Not today, at least. Look! My fingernail was broken and then it went back together all by itself.”

  She looked up at me. “Are you sure it was broken?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me see.”

  I was already scooting in next to her so she could get a closer look.

  “Could you at least have taken off your backpack?”

  “Oh, yeah, I was in a hurry to tell you.”

  “Okay, I see the polish scraped right there. Is that where it was broken?”

  “Yes.” I replied with eyes wide. My arms flew up. “Can you believe it? I’ve witnessed a miracle!”

  She laughed. “I wouldn’t exactly call that a miracle. Now, your dad’s recovery—that’s a miracle.”

  I stared at her for a moment as she put my stack of folded clothes in a basket and handed it to me. A miracle, she said. Hmmm…

  “Come to think of it, is that my polish you’re wearing?”

  I grabbed the basket and hurried down the hall to the stairs. “Sorry Mom, I didn’t hear a thing you said, I’m putting my clothes away. And thank you for folding them for me.”

  6

  T he new girl, Ariel, stood outside the school near the bicycle racks waving when I arrived the next day. I looked behind me toward the crossing guard. Is she waving at me?

  “Sheena!” she exclaimed.

  Why is she so happy to see me?

  “Sorry, I’m always happy to see a familiar face. Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You just responded to what I was thinking.”

  “I did? That’s impossible. How would I know what you were thinking?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it was a coincidence. Why are you standing around out here?”

  “I was waiting for you,” she replied with a huge grin.

  Her hair was pulled back in a wavy ponytail, revealing a birthmark at her temple that looked like a star. There was something kind of awkward about her. At the same time, she seemed so free, like she didn’t have a care or worry in the world. Didn’t she know about the plastic straw epidemic or about the increase in homelessness in the city? Or what about the missing kids from the tri-county area? I mean, I was worried about those things. And what about Brexit? I wasn’t really sure what Brexit was, but I needed to know how worried I needed to be about it.

  I tripped forward after being nudged in the back. The boy jumped away from me in a boxing stance, waiting to see what I’d do—swing at him and/or chase him.

  “Hey, leave her alone,” yelled Ariel.

  I laughed. “It’s okay. He’s actually my friend. We still hit each other and run like little kids.” I took a step toward him, and he ran. “Keep running, butt face!”

  “Language, Sheena,” said Mr. Haleigha while walking past me.

  “Sorry.”

  Ariel chuckled. “Shall we go in?”

  “Shall?” That was an odd word to use. “Okay.”

  We walked into the building and to the same homeroom. “This is you also?”

  “Yeah, I switched,” Ariel replied.

  “I didn’t know they do that.”

  Most of the students ignored us as we entered the classroom, but the teacher smiled up at us from her desk.

  “We have a new student. What’s your name?”

  “Ariel. Ariel Knight.”

  “Ariel, I’m Mrs. Yancey. I don’t see you listed as a new student. Are you sure you’re in the correct class?”

  “Um-hm, that’s what they told me.” She handed the teacher a crumpled paper from her pocket. “It’s right there on my schedule.”

  “That it is. Go ahead and have a seat.”

  “Anywhere?”

  “Yes. There’s no assigned seating.”

  Ariel sat two seats over from me in the same row. She seemed happy to be there and watched me often.

  It couldn’t be easy being new. I’ve lived in the same house forever, so I’ve never been the new kid, but I knew these rascals (that’s what my mom called my classmates) wouldn’t make it easy. I decided I would eat lunch with her if we had the same lunch period and help her get acclimated since it seemed like no one else would. Maybe the office sent a student around with her on her first day, or one of the days I was out. But if they did, why would she be looking for me first thing in the morning? She had to have met other people.

  “Ariel, over here!” I stood and waved my hand over my head as I yelled over the constant chatter of the other students in the cafeteria.

  “Oh, you know her now?” asked Chana.

  Ariel’s eyes brightened and her arm shot up in seeing me. “Hey, Sheena. Chana.”

  “Have we been introduced?”

  “Stop it,” I whispered. That wasn’t like her.

  “I remembered your name from social studiesclass.”

  I positioned myself in front of Ariel, where I could block her off from Chana’s eye-roll.

  “We have the same lunch period,” said Ariel.

  “Yeah, have you been introduced to the groups in here?”

  “Groups?” She shook her head.

  “Within the walls of this cafeteria is a whole society exhibiting dominance patterns in groups.”

  “She learned that in social studies,” Chana said over my shoulder.

  “Sure did, and I’m glad I can use what I learned for once in a real-life scenario.”

  I grabbed Ariel’s shoulders and turned her around, facing the room. “Okay, this is a quick who’s who in this middle school universe. Those girls are the FPS (fips), the future pop stars—that’s what they think anyway. They dance, they sing, they’re popular, and God forbid they have a hair out of place at any time. As you can see, they try to dress like the stars they’re going to be without breaking the school dress code. Some don’t care and will arrive in cropped tops and just deal with the consequences. I don’t know what they’re going to do next year when the school switches to uniforms. As far as they’re concerned, they’re royalty and we are mere peasants. The one in front, in the blue glittery jersey, I used to be good friends with—”

  “Yeah, until she came back from summer break with curves,” said Chana. “Then she didn’t know Sheena anymore.”

  “Yeah, I’m still waiting on my curves. Anyway, over there you have the typical geeks, and those guys along the wall are the unmentionables.”

  “Unmentionables?”

  “Yeah, they are mostly ignored, like they don’t matter. But truthfully, they’re cool. They’re just introverts, I guess. Back there, by the door, are the jokers—you know, like in Batman?”

  Ariel looked at me like she had no idea what I was talking about.

  “They’re playful and joke around a lot, which always gets them in trouble. They’re harmless, but a little annoying at times. They fart a lot too. They’ll make you sorry you ever inhaled.”

  “Flammable like methane,” Chana added.

  “Oh, and they beg for your food after they’ve eaten their own. I guess you n
eed extra calories when you keep up so much mischief.

  “Then you have your sporties—basketball, football, soccer—that’s all they care about. At that next table, you see the bookworms sitting together. But look at them. They don’t talk. They just sit and read. I don’t get it. Why bother sitting together? I’m not hating. I’m just saying.”

  “She’s hating,” Chana chimed in.

  “Those guys over there by the FPS—they’re trouble and just mean for no reason at all. I used to be one of them.”

  “You?” Ariel’s eyes were wide with shock.

  “I hate to admit it. I went through a rebellious stage, and Chana here had to help me see the error of my ways.”

  “Yeah, I slapped her and yelled, ‘Snap out of it!’” Chana said with a straight face while placing her straw in her drink.

  “Anyway, just ignore them and keep it moving.”

  “Keep it moving,” Ariel repeated. “What about you guys?” She looked back and forth from me to Chana. “What group are you in now?”

  “The groups she just mentioned form a ring,” said Chana, as she drew a circle in the air with her finger. “We fall directly in the center of that ring.”

  “Meaning you’re a little bit of everybody?”

  I thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

  “In all honesty, they probably all want to be us,” said Chana.

  “We are the crème de la crème,” I responded in my best French accent.

  “The world is full of lots of interesting people,” said Ariel.

  “Yeah, that’s one way to put it,” I replied.

  Ariel giggled, “That kid in that group you called ‘trouble’ just called you a loser.”

  “That’s Cameron. Ignore him. He’s just trying to get something started. Keyword, ignore. Ignore, ignore, ignore. Just let things roll off you and you’ll be okay.”

  I sat, and Ariel sat next to me. There was still something familiar about her. It was her eyes. I’d seen them before somewhere.

  “That’s interesting. Kind of bohemian,” I said, noticing her bracelet.

  Chana leaned over my sack lunch so she could see also.

  Ariel covered the bracelet with her hand. “It’s nothing. My mom made it.”

  It was a strange-looking old metal star with several tan ropes that tied it around her wrist.

  “Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

  “No…” she said as she looked around, studying the trays on the table. She sounded unsure.

  “We have a good selection for vegetarians, or carnivores like me,” said Chana.

  Ariel looked down at her lap.

  “Here, you can share with me.”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “I always bring extra for this reason.”

  “You bring an extra lunch to give away?”

  “Yeah, you never know who may not have lunch and may be afraid or ashamed to ask.”

  “Even for the jokers?”

  “No, they eat. They just want more. But if they hadn’t eaten, they could have it. It’s for anyone. I may not like a lot of the kids in here, but I don’t want them to go hungry.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “If she gets elected class president, she plans to work on everyone getting free lunches,” said Chana.

  “Prisoners do, why shouldn’t students?”

  “That’s awesome.”

  “It’s really not a big deal.” I pulled two sandwiches out of my bag and held one in each hand. “This one is turkey and cheese, and this one is almond butter and strawberry preserves. Which do you want?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We’ll go halfsies then.”

  She grinned. “Okay.”

  “Where are you from?” asked Chana as she opened her applesauce and licked the back of the lid.

  “Far away. You wouldn’t know it.”

  “Okayyyyy…I suppose middle schools are pretty much the same everywhere, but do you like it here?”

  “Yes, and my new friends,” she said smiling at me.

  She watched me and took a bite of her half sandwich after I did. I almost thought she didn’t know how, like she was new to eating.

  “This is good.”

  “I made it myself.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “I mean I figured you did. You’re old enough. Yum, what is that?” she asked, licking the yellow goo from her lip.

  “You’ve never had mustard?” Chana asked with a laugh.

  “Umm… not this kind,” Ariel replied, looking slightly embarrassed.

  I opened my bag of chips and offered her some. She stared at it. I reached in and took one, and she did too.

  “You are very kind.”

  Three boys rushed over to the table. “Are you coming out?”

  “Do you want to go out, Ariel?”

  She nodded.

  Chana turned in her seat and leaned her back against the table. “I don’t understand why we have to go out after lunch like we’re kids needing recess.”

  “I think it’s to get us to exercise and move around more. Think about it. We exit through the lunchroom doors and then have to go all the way around the school to the other side of the building to get back in.”

  “Yes, exercise,” Ariel said with her mouth bulging.

  As soon as we stepped outside, I realized it may have been a bad idea to take Ariel with me. I hadn’t explained the game.

  It was warm out. I wrapped and tied the arms of my hoodie around my waist like Ariel’s. The boys were waiting just far enough away from the door to give us a chance to run.

  “Ariel, do you run fast?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m no track star but I’m pretty quick. Follow me, and stay close!”

  We bolted around trees along the side of the building and jumped onto the bench of a weather-beaten picnic table and sat on the tabletop.

  “Dang, watch out,” a girl, one of the FPS, exclaimed from the other side of the table.

  I think I sat on a few of her waist-long braids that draped over the table.

  “Sorry. Excuse us, Bradly,” I replied, ignoring her scowl as the boys approached.

  “You guys are such toddlers,” she replied with a sneer.

  “Whatever. That’s why she has a boy's name,” I whispered to Ariel.

  She giggled and turned, watching the other FPS practicing a routine from their dance squad.

  “Base,” I yelled as the boys made it to the table.

  They stopped. “You can’t call base every time you run!”

  “You know good and well this is always base.”

  “What’s base?” Ariel asked.

  I waved my hand in front of us. “Out there is danger and chaos.” I tapped the picnic table with the palm of my hand. “But nothing can touch us here. We’re safe.”

  Ariel looked at me in a strange way.

  I checked my smartwatch to see how much time we had left before the next period. “The bell is going to ring soon. We can’t stay here forever. We have to make it to the doors to be safe again.”

  I looked for Chana. She was with the other two girls the boys were chasing. I waved to get her attention, tapped my fists together twice over my head and spread them apart.

  Chana held her thumb up and ran. The boys chased after her.

  “Come on, we’re clear. Let’s go.”

  “She did that for us?” asked Ariel.

  “Yep,” so we can make it to the building. “Run, Ariel!”

  We ran through the crowd that formed in front of the doors and into the building just as the doors opened. I watched for Chana as we stood in the hall against the far wall, catching our breath.

  “That was so much fun.”

  “Yeah, but now I’m all sweaty. Not you though, you still smell like flowers. What is that, your body spray or deodorant?”

  “That’s the bell. I’ll see you later, Sheena.”

  “Yep,
just walk away while I’m talking…”

  This is just great! I’m awkward, weird, and now musty. My reputation is just growing leaps and bounds.

  “We almost caught you,” one of the boys said in passing as he pushed the side of my head.

  “Don’t make me rub my armpit on you.”

  Chana ran up behind him and pulled the back of his shirt up over his head. We pushed him back toward the lockers and ran, laughing.

  Chana always had my back. You couldn’t mess with one of us without having to deal with the other. We bumped fists, crossed arms in the air and brought them down—something we’d been doing for about five years.

  “Later, bestie,” Chana yelled behind her. “And don’t forget to ask your parents about coming over.”

  7

  I was prepared to do some serious whining and begging to get my mom to let me go to Chana’s sleepover. But I didn’t have to. Maybe my mom thought I needed to get out of the house, or maybe I was getting on her nerves due to our last conversation. I mean she did allow me to pick the movie. I just wanted her to explain why Maleficent was so huge compared to the other fairies. I didn’t get it.

  “What’s wrong with you?” asked Chana. “You’ve been weird lately.”

  Weird? Maybe because I saw a creature of some sort, and this old man told me he saw it too and we’re the last of something. Maybe I should ask my mom if I’m adopted. Maybe I’m from some alien race. Those were the kind of thoughts that went through my head ever since I saw whatever it was.

  “You mean weirder than usual?”

  “No, brainiac, the way you’ve been hanging with that Ariel girl, and you’ve been secretive.”

  “Ariel is sweet. You should get to know her.”

  “Whatever, just remember I’m the one that has known you since kindergarten. Remember? I stood ground with you when you announced to the whole class that there was no such thing as Santa Claus. Man, you really had everyone upset, including the teacher. Wait, what did you say?”

  I mimicked my five-year-old self. “It’s imagination.” We both laughed as Chana swung a feather boa at me.

  Chana was also the one that stopped everyone from calling me a baby in first grade because of the way I talked, and she’s always been around ever since in case I need defending, although she never socked someone in the eye again.