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elizaditton · 2 years ago

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Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 5)

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Maedri's undercity was nicer than Chancelor's. The videos on the skylights were prettier than the ones above me now, the floors weren't as worn as the tile I tread on now, and the storefronts were lit up with bright neon signs very unlike the plain and lifeless ones that Dad and I are passing by. Chancelor's undercity is dull, gray, and worn-down— or, 'well loved' as Dad put it.

"I really have missed it here," Dad says for the hundredth time.

I dismiss his comments and return my attention to my phone screen, which displays a map of Pacific Deskmate High School. I know they're more than likely going to show us around on orientation day of all days, but you can never be too prepared. I might as well study this map while I can. I don't want to show up and have no idea where I'm supposed to go. Now, where am I supposed to go?

As I'm fixating on the map of the school I notice Dad in my peripheral vision, taking a right.

"Wait, where are you going?" I ask.

"To the school, where else?" Dad laughs.

"But it's a straight path to Thorne Avenue, we don't have to turn."

Dad stops for a moment and gazes down the street. He looks up at a sign hanging above us which indicates that East Avenue runs through Seren Avenue.

"Oh," he says. "You're right. This wasn't a through street when I was a kid."

"That's why you have me to study the map before we go anywhere," I say, mentally kicking myself over the time we've just saved getting to the school.

"Right. Now, Kaylin, there's some things I want to make sure you know about having a deskmate," Dad says.

Deskmate?! I was so busy memorizing the layout of the school that I forgot exactly what I've been trying to forget— how I'm going to be someone's deskmate. How I'm going to be thrown into a forced relationship with some stranger. A perthean stranger.

My core tightens as my eyes threaten to glaze over. I clench my fist in a futile attempt to ground myself in reality.

I look up, and in front of me is a wooden balcony. I tiptoe forwards and look to the side. The balcony seems to stretch on forever in this place. I gaze ahead only to be met with an enormous set of five digits reaching straight for me. I stumble backwards in disbelief, and bolt to my right. I think I've made my getaway when a massive wall of flesh blocks my path. I turn and run the other way, but I'm halted when the five digits catch up and surround my entire being. I try to punch, to kick, to do anything to get away, but the hand enclosing me has secured itself tightly around my pathetic body. It tightens, and tightens...!

I let out a gasp, and the world around me returns to the familiar gray of Chancelor's undercity. I look around. No balcony. No enormous hands. A shuddering sigh of relief escapes me.

I look ahead to Dad, who is a bit of a ways away from me now, and I race to catch up with him.

"But anyways," he says, "just make sure to maintain eye contact and speak up. And don't make the same mistake I did by not getting their phone number when you meet." He looks back to me. "Got all that?"

"Mhm," I manage, the shock from that daydream still wearing off.

Dad stops and turns to face one of the buildings. "Here we are," he says, looking up at a faded green sign with the words 'Pacific Deskmate High School' written in a light yellow font. The sign isn't even illuminated. We could have walked right past without even noticing it.

Beneath the sign are some windows that stretch to the floor, with the entrance to the school between them. The two windows to the right of the door reflect the image of Dad and I standing a few yards away. I look at myself in the school's uniform. Wearing this doesn't feel right.

"Well, this it," Dad says. "You're all set and checked in ahead of time."

I blink. Dad? Doing anything ahead of time? Am I sure this isn't a dream or something?

"Um, so... what am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?" I ask.

Dad raises an eyebrow. "Weren't you listening to anything I was telling you on the way here?"

Uh-oh. What else could I have missed? I didn't think he was saying anything important. I shake my head.

Dad sighs and reaches into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a crumpled up piece of paper and begins to unfold it. He looks it over for a moment, and then hands it to me.

MEET IN GYMNASIUM 8:00 AM, CARMEN 12TH

H-53

"Head to the gym," he says. "When you get off the elevator, head down the hall, hang a right, and then head left. The gym is on the right. You can't miss it. Sit down and wait for them to call out this code. When they do, go with them and they'll tell you what to do from there."

I stare down at the paper. I still haven't the slightest clue of what I should expect or where I should go. And I hate it.

"Don't worry, you'll do fine. I believe in you," Dad ruffles my hair. "Hey," he says.

I look up at him.

He smiles. "Be brave. I'll see you later."

And with that, he turns and walks away, leaving me by myself in unfamiliar territory and expecting me to interact with pertheans.

'Be brave...'

I take in a deep breath. There's no turning back now.

I reach for the door handle and pull it open. I step inside Pacific Deskmate High School.

The lobby, on first glance, is rather small and empty save for a few visitor seats, some potted ficus, and the front desk, where a man is seated giving directions to the school over the phone. To the right of the desk are four elevators, where some students are gathered waiting for the next available ride. As I walk over to join them, some doors open, and everyone clamors to secure a spot inside the elevator.

Tucking myself away in a corner as the doors close, I can't help but worry about what sort of impression I'm giving off. I'd been with the same crowd of people at school since stage three, so this is my chance for a new start. I don't want to mess this up. I wonder what the people in this elevator think about me. Do they notice my worrying? Will they be able to tell that I have a fear of pertheans?

Looking around at the crowd I'm with, I feel out of place with all the students that must be starting high school this year. I wonder how many others will be going into senior year.

The doors to the elevator open up again, signaling the end of our ride. As we step off, I struggle to remember the map I was looking at and the directions Dad gave me to the gym. Instead of guessing or pulling out the map again, I follow some other students down the hall and around a few corners until we finally arrive at the entrance to the gym.

The doors are propped open, and I follow the lead of everyone else through them and over to the bleachers. The glossy hardwood floor is in stark contrast to the worn tile throughout the rest of the school. The floor is marked for different sports to be played, and there's a scoreboard on the other side of the room for competitive games. Three adults stand in place beneath it, conversing.

I pass a group of students talking about how hard it was to get into this school, and I start to wonder how many strings Dad had to pull to get me in here. He must have really wanted me to be here.

I approach the bleachers and scan the rows for someplace I can sit by myself. After a moment of searching, I make my way over to the top of the bleachers and to the side. I take a seat and wipe my sweaty, shaking hands on my skirt.

A tapping noise to the right catches my attention, and I look over to see a boy around my age. His arms are crossed and his brows are woven together as he bounces one leg. His short black hair and green eyes are familiar to me, and I can't help but wonder if I've seen him somewhere before.

Another sound catches my attention, this time a voice.

"If everyone could please find a seat, we'll be beginning shortly!" says a woman with a gruff voice.

Students begin to fill the remaining empty seats in the bleachers, and to my relief, no one sits beside me. The woman who made the announcement before performs a head count, and confers with the other adults who join her in front of the bleachers. Another woman claps her hands together twice, and the room grows quiet.

"Good morning, everyone! Thank you for arriving on time. Welcome to Pacific Deskmate High School!" the woman says.

A 'whoop whoop' reverberates through the room. I'm guessing that was one of the freshmen.

The woman speaking chuckles, and clears her throat before continuing. "I'm Ms. Clemmons, your human co-principal."

Ms. Clemmons is older and has a petite, bony frame. Her wavy blonde hair is restrained neatly behind her, and she wears a flowing navy blue cardigan. To the left of her is a man with short, curly brown hair wearing a shirt and tie. To her right is a bulkier woman whose black hair is wrapped up in a bun. She has on a gray cardigan.

"This is Mr. Day," Ms. Clemmons motions to the man beside her. "Mr. Day is our human nurse, and Mrs. Wright is our human gym teacher," she says, motioning to the woman on her other side.

"We look forward to assisting you this school year," the trio says, their right arms crossing their chest as they lean forward.

"One hundred thirty-six of you will be joining our program today, and with that, our school is completely full this year. Congratulations on making it in!" Ms. Clemmons says.

I take the paper Dad gave me out of my pocket, with 'H-53' scratched in at the bottom. Could I be the fifty-third student out of one hundred thirty-six? But I suppose that would have to mean Dad actually enrolled me sort of early, and I can't imagine him doing anything on time, much less early.

Ms. Clemmons clasps her hands together. "Now, we're going to get right into pairing you all with your deskmates. If everyone could recall the code you received in your confirmation e-mail, we will have H-01 through H-10 follow Mr. Day to meet their deskmates."

Ten at a time? They're moving so quickly! I watch as several students from around the bleachers stand and follow Mr. Day to the gym entrance. A younger student does what looks to be a secret handshake with another student sitting next to him before he speeds off to catch up with the others. So much enthusiasm, and yet here I sit, agonizing over the long year that's ahead of me.

Another group follows Mrs. Wright, and yet another follows Ms. Clemmons, leaving the rest of us waiting on the bleachers for our turn to meet our perthean partners. If I'm doing the math right, with three groups of ten being paired all at once... when the teachers return, it'll be time for me to be paired with my deskmate.

And so I wait.

And wait.

I have trouble deciding if I want time to speed up or slow down. On the one hand, if time slows down, I have more time to wait, more time in the safety of this human part of the school. But if time were to speed up, I could get this all over with and go home. Either way, I'm sitting here waiting without anyone to talk to and nothing to do.

I can't help but wonder what my deskmate will be like. My fear tells me I'm done for the moment this perthean lays eyes on me, and I know it's not true, but I can't stop myself from worrying. My shaking legs bounce themselves up and down, like the boy sitting across the bleachers. I wonder how my deskmate feels about meeting me. Are they nervous, too? Apathetic? Do they want to meet me?

My insides twist into a knot at the idea of a perthean wanting to meet me.

I look up as five fingers begin to entangle my weak figure. Once my entire body is in this hand's grasp, I feel a constricting pressure as it begins to squeeze.

"I've been waiting for you for quite some time," A voice says. I follow the source upward to a pair of cold, drooping brown eyes.

It's not real! I shake my head back and forth and slap my cheeks. As quickly as it began, my waking nightmare ends and I'm back on the bleachers.

"Fifty-one through sixty, please follow me," says Ms. Clemmons.

Looking around, the bleachers are much emptier than before. I tiptoe down the steps, following the lead of the other students as we make our way over to Ms. Clemmons.

Ms. Clemmons leads us through the gym and back out to the hallway. I nearly trip over my numb legs as we walk in a straight line to the co-principal's office. I'm walking, I realize, towards my deskmate. Every step I take brings me closer to the inevitable. Closer to spending a year stuck as part of some perthean's school supplies.

I can see it now—sitting at my own desk atop theirs, being just about as useful to them as an old, discarded pencil worn down to nothing but a nub. Puny. Undesirable. And not very helpful, at that. I don't see myself as being any help to a perthean, and I don't see any reason that I should require any help from them. What could either of us gain by being forced into a pairing like this?

Before I know it, we've reached the co-principal's office, and I sit myself in a chair beside the door with the other students as Ms. Clemmons disappears with the student given the code H-51. I tuck one leg behind the other to keep it from bouncing, but all it does is cause the other to join in with it.

I wait in agony for my turn. After a minute or so of torment and another student disappearing into the office, Ms. Clemmons reappears from her office with a smile.

"Fifty-three?" She says, her eyes locking with mine.

My heart plummets to the floor. Shaking, I struggle to stand up. I worry whether or not my wobbly legs will be able to hold up the rest of my body.

"Are you excited?" Ms. Clemmons says, opening the door to her office.

"Um, yeah, sure!" I manage to squeak out.

Ms. Clemmons lets me into her office, and closes the door behind us. Her office is rather small, and decorated with succulents and pictures of loved ones. Her desk is pristine and perfectly organized. There's neat stacks of paperwork, and office supplies kept in orderly rows without so much as a pencil out of line. Ms. Clemmons approaches her desk and picks up a folder laying directly atop one of the stacks.

"Would you state your name for me, dear?" She asks, pulling out a pair of reading glasses.

"K-Kaylin," I say, my focus is more on keeping my trembling to a minimum than answering the question.

Ms. Clemmons looks up from the folder in her hands, expectantly.

"Um, Kaylin Finch!" I finish.

"Alright, Ms. Finch," Ms. Clemmons says, "thank you for completing the entrance questionnaire online beforehand, that really helps us speed up the matching process."

"Entrance questionnaire?" I ask.

"Yes, the entrance questionnaire. Your parents might have filled it out for you, that's alright."

Dad doing something early again? He wasn't kidding around about sending me here, was he?

"Anyway," Ms. Clemmons says, "let's get you paired with your deskmate."

My insides twist. My heart rate accelerates. This is it.

Ms. Clemmons approaches a door across from the one we entered and knocks. My deskmate has to be on the other side of that door! My heart threatens to beat right out of my chest as I try to keep my trembling under control.

"Come in!" says a voice from the other side of the door.

Ms. Clemmons opens the door. As much as I want to run, there's no turning back now.

#tstba #too small to be afraid #perthea #g/t #giant/tiny #ugggghhh the conlang stuff had me stalling on posting this #i couldnt decide on month names but i think i got it now lol #anyway enjoy lol

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