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 Evangeline stared out the window, letting the drone of the teacher’s lecture go unheard. The darkened sky and the soft patter of rain against the window suggested another dull day to follow up the past eighteen years of her life. Her notebook sat open to the first page, as it had for the past few weeks, bare and unused.

Her attention was only focused when the students were called to rise, the teacher announcing that it was ‘that time’. It was an announcement that brought mixed responses. Some were excited, some disgusted. Some, like Evangeline, were silently awaiting what was coming. It had caught her attention enough that she was conscious of the teacher leaving the room and the conversation that followed.

“We are about to have a scholarship brat in our midst.” The statement came from Isabelle, resident queen bee, and opened the floodgates of conversation.

“I bet she cannot even afford our uniform.”

“If they even make them that small.” Evangeline knew they did, as it was customary that every year a few scholarship students would be accepted into the school. Scholarship student was the politically correct term for a person in the school who came from a small family.

“I wonder what class she will be. H class? K class?”

“Most are H class. They can actually sit at the desks, after all.”

“It would be funny to see a K class trying to sit in a desk,” one girl chuckled.

Evangeline was trying to ignore them, the way they thought so little of their soon to be peer.

“It does not matter,” Isabelle said, quieting the others. “They do not deserve to be in our presence, let alone sitting next to us, disrupting our learning.”

“The teacher,” a girl near the door whispered and silence fell completely, as everyone awaited the arrival of the new student.

Everyone was surprised when they saw Ms. Hill return, her hand held upturned at her midsection, an F class girl seated in her palm. “Everyone,” she announced, “I am pleased to introduce our newest student, Hadley.” She let the girl disembark onto her desk, where the girl stood, looking out at the room.

Evangeline felt her throat tighten. Why was there an F class girl in the school? Those who were S class did not often show care when in the presence of H or K class people, but it was beyond dangerous for a F class, likely no taller than 4 inches to be in a school comprised predominantly by S class students, raised in wealth and privilege and with disdain for anyone who could not afford their lifestyle or size.

“Is there anyone willing to house Hadley at their desk?”

Evangeline’s heart sank when Isabelle rose. “I will take her,” she announced, with a bright smile. Evangeline watched a few faces twist in sadistic pleasure, knowing that Isabelle would best belittle the pest.

“Thank you, Isabelle.” The girl was asked to once again get onto Ms. Hill’s hand and was transported to Isabelle’s desk, where she was deposited. The girl carried a briefcase and Evangeline watched her retrieve a notebook from it and look around the desk for a place to sit. She looked up to Isabelle.

Isabelle pointed to the very corner of the desk and the girl hesitantly moved as directed. Evangeline’s jaw tensed as the girl glanced over the side of the desk, her discomfort pretty clear. The teacher carried on with the next lesson, but Evangeline had a new direction for her focus – the girl desperately craning her neck, trying to pick up the information that the teacher was providing. There was no way she could see the board, Evangeline realized.

The girl eventually resigned to listening only to the teacher’s voice, writing down everything that was said, furiously scribbling on her tiny pad. Her dedication was clear, but Evangeline wondered how long it would last – how long she would last. This place, these people, were bound to rattle her, to push her down.

~*~

The sound of a bell called Hadley’s furious pencil to a halt, as she brought her hands to her ears in a delayed reaction to the sound. Why did it have to be so loud? She looked at the notes she had taken, jumbled and disoriented by the fact that she wrote things down exactly as Ms. Hill said them. Her penmanship had degenerated throughout the hour that she had been struggling to keep up.

Focusing on writing had kept her from feeling the weight of the room around her – the stares she tried to ignore, the breath of the girl whose desk she shared breath on her back, the thunder of pencils moving, especially that same girl. When Isabelle had tapped the eraser on the desk, Hadley felt the tremor and tried not to wince. The bell brought a commotion like she had never experienced, a mass of giant bodies rising and the exodus of mass leaving the room feeling suddenly empty. Ms. Hill had been pulled out of the room, leaving Hadley at the mercy of Isabelle.

“You sure took a lot of notes,” the girl commented, calling Hadley’s attention to her. A few others lingered about, all absorbed by what the girl said. “You think you are going to be able to make it in this school?”

Hadley nodded, her expression honest. She had worked very hard to get into the school, and she had been very thankful for the support her parents had provided. There was no way she was going to waste anyone’s efforts.

“Don’t be stupid. There is no way filth like you can succeed in our world.” Hadley was wary of the girl’s approaching hand, moving so fast, presenting such power in comparison to herself. Fingers extended towards her and her first instinct was to hold her notebook in front of her face, to block out the advance.

She registered one fingernail the size of her head coming into view beyond the notebook and then the notebook was tugged roughly upward, the nail disappearing from view. She automatically released the book, not wanting to be dragged along with.

“So, filth class, what do you intend to do if you do not have your book?” There was disdain written all over the girl, her green eyes darkened by it and her soft voice marred by it.

“Please, I need that,” she pleaded. “I cannot afford a new one,” she added, hoping to gain sympathy.

“What a shame,” she sneered. Her fingers shifted so that they hung over the edge of the desk and then released the book. Hadley watched as it fell and her first instinct was to try to reach for it, but she held away from the edge.

The girl rose, chuckling as she led away her pack. They laughed with her, casting glances back at Hadley. Hadley sidled up to the edge of the desk, peering over at the huge expanse between her and her book on the floor. She had not registered the footsteps that approached when a new form suddenly came into view. Another person had been in the room and then bent low to retrieve her book, carefully plucking it from the floor. Without standing, the girl’s head turned upward, her eyes coming about level with Hadley’s. Hadley shifted backward, not used to looking someone so closely in the eye.

“Here is your book,” the girl spoke, her volume low. Her fingertips rose slowly and she deposited the book on the desk next to Hadley, allowing her to retrieve it on her own. The fingers retreated and Hadley was glad of it. “It is lunch time. I tend to eat here, rather than try to fumble my way through the crowd in the cafeteria. You are welcome to join me.”

“I did not pack a lunch,” Hadley realized as she voiced the words.

“I am sure I can spare you some of mine,” the girl said and Hadley was surprised to detect no hint of condescension. It was as if the girl was offering half of her lunch, rather than making a point about the little Hadley would need.

“I would be grateful.” The girl nodded and Hadley saw a hint of a smile touch the girl’s otherwise neutral expression. The girl rose, returning to her own desk, where she retrieved her lunch, looking through the contents.

“I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple,” she announced. She brought the food over to Hadley and she watched the girl crouch once more, her eyes again becoming level with Hadley. Those eyes were focused on the wrapped sandwich in her lap. She ripped off a chunk of saran wrap and placed it on the desk. It was a large sheet to Hadley. The girl then tugged of a corner of her sandwich, placing it on the makeshift plate. “Sorry it is a little squished.” Hadley noted that much of the jelly was no longer between the bread, but she did not mind.

The girl then used a plastic knife to slice off a chuck of the apple, which she deposited on top of the sandwich. “It is not five star dining like you would find in the lunch room.”

“I am a bit surprised,” Hadley commented, receiving a shrug and the same half smile.

“I made my own lunch today.”

Hadley’s brow rose. “Is it expensive jam?”

“Not that I am aware of. Certainly a jar meant to feed me is going to cost more than a jar for yourself, but they have to sell me a lot more.” The girl’s face still held neutrality, like she was just going over logistics and nothing more. “Would you like to stay here or move to my desk?”

Hadley considered what was offered. She certainly was uncomfortable remaining on Isabelle’s desk, but would anything change? She was inclined to think it would, so she nodded. “Let me get my things together.” The girl nodded and placed her food on her desk. When she had returned, Hadley had her briefcase in one hand and was attempting to lift the food with the other. She knew it was not going to end up well, so when the other girl offered assistance, she resigned with a sigh.

The girl placed her hand on the table, palm up, and Hadley took a deep breath before getting onto the hand. The hand did not move while she settled herself, sitting down in the center. When she looked to the other girl, brows rose, asking for an indication to move. She nodded and the hand rose slowly with the girl. The ride was smooth and ended with the hand placed on the desk, letting Hadley disembark on her own. The food was placed next to the girl’s notebook and Hadley sat down on the side of it opposite the girl. “Have you transported an F class before?”

The girl took a seat before responding. “On many occasions. My parents work with people of all classes and I have gotten to know a number of them.” She extended the tip of her index finger towards Hadley, but did not get too close. “My name is Evangeline, but I tend to go by Eva.” When Hadley raised her hand, Evangeline closed the distance between the two, hand and fingertip coming together. “It is nice to meet you.”

“And you,” Hadley returned. 

 

Chapter End Notes:

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