Only Differently Designed // ODD

5. Only Lunch Time

My head snaps up when the bell rings. Break time. I stuff my books and papers under the table and push my chair back. Something tugs at the back of my sweater. I assume it must have snagged on the chair, but just before I can turn to see, I am consumed by black.

I can't see a thing, not even my hands. My thoughts are jumbled all over the place. Am I fainting? Transforming? Teleporting through time and space? Through a black hole perhaps? I breathe in, warm hot air. My cheeks itch. I bring up my hands to scratch, but both my arms are yanked behind my back.

"You have the right to remain silent."

My police officer begins steering me forward, then to the right.

"Anything you say can and will–"

"Oof." I must have collided into a desk.

"Sorry! Are you alright?"

"Scarlet?"

"Yes, Heather?"

"What are you doing to me?"

"I'm kidnapping you, of course. Now, as I said, you have the right to–"

"Kidnappers don't Mirandize their victims. That's what police officers do."

"Oh, just be quiet and move along."

"Really, where are you taking me?"

"I promised to treat you to lunch, remember?"

"This is how you treat someone to lunch? By giving them a wedgie?"

I chuckle. Speaking to Scarlet is surprisingly much easier now that I can't see her face. I almost wish I always have the back of my sweater pulled over my face (although it is highly uncomfortable and hard to breathe in here). I'd probably be better at communicating with people – but then again, I'd also be better at scaring them off.

Plan sweater-face: rejected.

"This isn't a wedgie. If it were, your underwear would've been on your face, not your sweater. And you can't blame me. I had to kidnap you, since you've been rudely ignoring me for the past few days."

It's true. I desperately avoided Scarlet since the birthday party. I pretended not to hear when she called my name and rushed to the library faster than usual. In other words, I don't fancy stepping into the outside world, even if it meant free food.

"Listen, Scarlet, it's alright, you don't need to feel bad for what happened. It was just an accident. And I'm really not hungry at the moment. I appreciate the offer, but can you let me go?"

I end up getting Mirandized again. This time Scarlet recites the whole thing. I wonder how long it took her to memorize it. Either that or it's printed on the back of my shirt. I stumble around sightlessly for a while longer with her still coaching me from behind. Just when I start get nervous, I feel the weather change and hear the shouts of wild students.

Scarlet rips the sweater off my face.

I am instantly blinded by light. The sun is hanging in the sky, fiery, menacing, and very hard to look at. I trail Scarlet with my eyes trained to the ground, not only because of the sunlight, but also because of the people. There's way too many of them, all walking or running or chatting or kicking a ball around.

"So turkey sandwich with cheese or without?" Scarlet brandishes her money as we near the canteen window.

"Um, anything is fine," I mumble.

Any confidence I had earlier deflates like a dying balloon. I duck my head and curl my fingers around the edges of my sweater while I wait for Scarlet to buy the sandwiches. I start tapping my feet, glancing from one foot to the other, trying to busy myself with the pattern of my shoelaces.

When Scarlet hands me my turkey, I mumble a thanks and start to walk away, but she grabs me by the arm.

I must've flinched because she says, "I won't bite, promise."

I look at her, properly look at her, and that's when I realize for the first time how incredibly small she is – small hands, small face, small ears, nose, mouth – quite the opposite of The Little Red Riding Hood's friend, the wolf.

Maybe she really won't bite.

"Why don't you sit with us? Come on, my friends are over there."

She drags me across the playground, towards them. The fears start hopping around my chest. What do I do? Where am I supposed to sit? What do I say? Am I supposed to say anything at all? Maybe I could crack a joke and they would all laugh their heads off. They would associate my name with funny, entertaining. But what if my joke is stupid and they don't laugh?

We are getting closer. There are three girls sitting in a circle on the grass, all from my class. They greet Scarlet enthusiastically and scoot for her to sit. Scarlet pats the space next to her, signaling me to sit down. I sit, cross my legs – left leg first then right – and come face to face with Scarlet's friends.

They are all staring at me. All three of them. Six pairs of eyes – that's a lot more than I can handle.

So I wave hello, not with my free hand, but with my sandwich.

Smooth.