The Mendacity of Winnie Hart

Chapter One

I had gotten in a debilitating car wreck this morning, and had to be resuscitated back to life in the hospital, doctors everywhere marveling at the fact that I managed to survive such a heinous tragedy.

Well, not exactly.

That's the excuse I wanted to give the receptionist. It certainly sounded more interesting than just saying "sorry, I slept in". At the same time, I figured she'd find it hard to believe that a car crash and hospital operation all occurred before 9 A.M on a Tuesday morning. Especially if she knew I didn't even drive myself to school. Hell, I didn't even have any visible marks on me that would give any indication I had been in a horrible accident.

"Hey Mrs. B," I said, walking up the the desk of the attendance office. People were bustling around me, ignoring my presence while they were absorbed in their own work.

The stoic woman peered up at me over her glasses. "Winnie. Late again I see?"

"Yeah. Dentist appointment, couldn't be helped. Trust me, I would rather be learning all of the wonderful things this school has to offer me," I lied, opting to go with a safer option. Plastering a fake smile on my face, I waited for her to give me the typical roll of her eyes I had gotten used to seeing.

Mrs. Borden wasn't a pleasant woman, and I couldn't fathom the reason behind why she wanted to work in a high school. It was clear she had no patience or tolerance for kids, or even the adults that worked with her. In fact, students tried to avoid being late just so they didn't have to interact with her. Of course, that didn't include me. I had been late enough to be used to her, and know that although mean, she really couldn't do all that much harm.

Students still hated her though, even if she was truly harmless. Her name had given way to many an unfortunate nickname. Mrs. Snore-den, Mrs. Boredom, Mrs. Whore-den, and my personal favorite, Mrs. Abhor-den. I thought it was a little more creative than the others.

"I'll get you a pass," she grumbled, reluctantly giving in to the falsehood. It was rare when people didn't. Maybe it wasn't a thing to be proud of, but I could lie well. It helped that when Mrs. Borden would inevitably call my mother later to confirm why I was late, she would agree with whatever I had said. She never asked any questions.

I stood and watched her dig through some drawers to find the little slip that would excuse me from detention. Her desk looked like a tornado had gone through it, papers awry and empty Twix wrappers here and there. There was even a small ink stain on the desk where evidently a pen had exploded at some point. Imagining Mrs. Borden with ink splotches all over her floral blouse made me snort. She gave me an unamused look, and furiously scribbled something on a pass.

"Thanks," I said, taking it out of her hand. She didn't bother to give me a response, and hobbled her way over to the fax machine. The hallways were empty since first period was already in session, so I took my time walking there. Mrs. Borden had written the time on the slip, but her cursive was so sloppy and illegible, it could've said anything. Besides, my first period was study hall, which was a blessing if you ask me. It was half the reason I felt comfortable coming late so often. No one ever did anything in study hall besides talk, sleep, or do their homework.

Once I finally arrived at the classroom door, I sighed, standing in front of it for a moment. It would be easy to hang around the halls until second period, a class I actually had to be present for. Wren would be expecting me though, and I didn't want to bail on my one and only friend I had made since moving here last year.

I opened the door, ignoring all of the eyes that looked up at the sudden noise. I wanted to shrink back at the stares, but I knew they would turn away soon enough. My teacher was reclined back in his chair, with his feet propped up on the desk, reading a battered copy of Moby Dick. He looked at me, not even lowering the book when he took my pass. As soon as it was in his hand, he crumpled it up and tossed it into the garbage can as I made my way to my desk. In the beginning, he had bothered to take the time to read the pass, and ask me questions. Now, he had grown used to them, just like I had grown used to getting them.