How Curiosity Killed the Cat and the Ghost Was Brought Back

Melancholy

Tap tap tap. Kat stared intently at the page, scattered with the scattered remains of a rubber eraser from frantic erasing. Educational songs and goofy rhymes bounced around in her mind as she tried to recall the right formula. She knew it was there, somewhere, but time was almost up. She huffed a breath to relieve some of the frustration. It didn't help.

All of the months spent studying, even over her summer break, was being flushed down the toilet- practically by her own hand. She blinked in an attempt to clear the stinging sensation behind her eyes. She already felt stupid for forgetting the most basic formula known to man. Crying was out of the question.

"Fifteen minutes," a gruff, authoritative voice echoed around the gym, interrupting the previous hour of complete silence and sending a fresh wave of panic through her gut.

Kat glanced down to see the time for herself, but her bare wrist reminded her that her new watch was currently sitting at the bottom of the plastic bucket that rested by feet of the P.E. teacher. She still thought it was stupid to confiscate a plain timex. Why make everyone else suffer just because a few nerds tried to sneak in with calculator watches?

"Ten minutes," the voice echoed once more. Kat forced herself to refocus. It felt useless at this point. She stared down at the scantron- at the last three empty rows of bubbles- took a breath, and filled in b, b, and b.

When time was finally up, three of the supervising teachers stood to collect the test materials. Kat kept her head down, resting her forehead against her folded arms. She felt herself doze in and out of consciousness until a gentle pat on the shoulder prompted her to sit up. She looked up to see a bluebird brooch pinned to a frilly blouse, paired with cat-eye bifocals and a kind smile that mouthed, "you did great." Kat responded with a half-hearted smile.

* * *

It had never felt more gratifying to hear the ear-piercing ring of the bell. Kat slung her backpack around her shoulders after a lethargic slamming of her locker door. She began making her way down the hall to the buses, absentmindedly adjusting the strap of her watch. From her peripheral, she saw a head poke out from a nearby classroom.

"How does it feel to finally get that test over with?" Ms. Buckley asked with an encouraging grin.

"Exhausting," Kat said. "I think I screwed up pretty bad on the algebra portion." She continued to fiddle with her watch. The face of the display now retained a long scratch from its time spent at the bottom of the confiscation bucket .

Ms. Buckley's expression turned sympathetic. A set of bubblegum pink nails tapped thoughtfully against a mug as her other hand dipped a teabag up and down into piping hot water.

"Well. . ." she began with a sigh, "there's no use in worrying about what you think you messed up on. Let the results speak for themselves."

"Right, exactly," Kat agreed. She crossed her arms and stared down at her shoes.

Ms. Buckley's bifocals slid down the bridge of her nose as she gave Kat a knowing look. "I don't know why I try," she teased, "we both know you're going to worry yourself sick anyhow."

Kat smiled. She appreciated the effort Ms. Buckley put into understanding her students rather than regurgitating the endless "you can do anything you set your mind to" bullshit. She was a rare positive realist. Though between infamous Buckley pep talks and impromptu home therapy sessions, Kat rarely had the energy to actually take any of it to heart.

"I promise I'll try not to."

Ms. Buckley nodded with a pleased smile. She took a long sip from her mug, which Kat took as a sign to leave. Just before she could turn, Ms. Buckley raised a finger as if to say "wait just a sec."