Scars Part 9

At Jefferson High, it was a normal day, a normal class, and a normal existence. But the moment was not normal. At least not for two students on that bright autumn morning.

  Connie Wheeler had skipped almost four complete days of school, under the pretence of a sore throat, and her friends were beginning to wonder about her.

  Now Connie, despite her modern, popular appearance, was really a very traditional and conservative girl, who had been raised to believe that an apology was due after a mistake. She was nervous, but bound by her sense of right and wrong, she swallowed her fears and resolved to say what needed saying and have it over as soon as possible.

   Outside the door to room 11, Connie hesitantly peeked in expecting to see Alice at their desk, bent over her blue notebook, scrawling away as usual. But what she saw surprised her.

 
  Alice stood at the window, her scarred face uplifted and smiling. The hood of the blue jacket was down around her shoulders, and midnight black curls fell about her face in soft waves, the sun shining on her peaceful profile.

  Connie was captivated. This new picture of Alice, looking so gentle and at ease, surprised her. As she stood watching in the doorway, the girl shocked her even further. She began to sing, soft words, unrecognizably low, but with so much spirit and in such a beautiful voice that Connie found herself in tears when the song was over, moved by the heartfelt passion in Alice’s voice.  

  Wiping away a damp eye, Connie sniffed---a fatal mistake. Alice’s head whirled around, her eyes blazing, cheeks flushed with anger. Immediately snatching her hood up and brushing hair over her face, Alice lowered her face to the floor, feeling that this invasion of her private moment was too much embarrassment to bear. She glanced around for an escape of some sort, but finding none, darted to a seat in the back of the room. Mr. Alden was one of those people who did not deal well with speaking to her and so Alice knew he would make no comment.

   Connie sprang quickly over to her, wishing fervently to make things right. But the bell ran and a flood of juniors and sophomores came pouring into the classroom. Helplessly, Connie took her seat, on the brink of despair, when she saw that Alice had left her precious blue notebook on their desk.

  Jason Swingle, whose seat Alice had taken, walked in, saw Alice in his chair and collapsed sleepily into the spot beside Connie, quite pleased to find himself next to her. Mr. Alden gathered his teaching handouts and found that he was several short. Instructing his class to behave themselves, the teacher left to make copies, with little hope that his orders would be obeyed.

 As soon as the door shut behind him, Tim Carey, an overly confident basketball star at Jefferson, began to look for some way of making trouble. He spied the blue notebook on Jason’s desk and thought to make a joke of it.

   “Hey Jason! Pass!” His robust voice called across the room. Jason good-naturedly tossed the notebook over, and Tim grinned wickedly as he flipped it opened. Alice sat like a stone statue afraid to breathe. That notebook held the contents of her world. It would shatter if anyone looked at it and so would she.

  Thinking of the horror she would feel if her own little jottings were read aloud, Connie quickly leapt to her feet.

  “You give that back Tim Carey!” Her voice was sharp, but Tim was only encouraged by the fact that he’d caught the attention of one of the prettiest girls at school. Laughing, but more interested in Connie than in the book itself, he called back,

  “What if I said no?”