Page 5 of Before We Fell

So far, she had sat alone on a bench every day at recess. When other kids approached her and invited her to play, she shook her head and didn’t say a word.

Such as it’d been every day so far. She wasn’t speaking to anyone. When I called on her in class or tried to draw her into a discussion and work one on one with her, she barely mumbled a response.

If my heart ached for her before school started solely on knowing her past, meeting her and trying to interact with her was causing it to crack in two.

She was a pretty little girl with a thick mass of blonde hair down to her waist. Her blue eyes were the largest of any child I’d ever seen. With her round face and pretty nose and a tiny little gap between her two front teeth, if her parents had put her in modeling she’d be famous, she was that beautiful.

But she was devastatingly sad. And quiet. And every endeavor I’d attempted so far to get her to talk to me had failed miserably. I had no idea what to do to help her, only that something had to be done.

Today her wild and thick hair was tangled as if she hadn’t taken a brush to it in days, or if she’d attempted, hadn’t done it very well. She sat on the bench, head bent, and although I couldn’t see her face, I imagined she was watching her pink sandals swing back and forth as she skimmed them over the mulch.

“Any luck so far?” Anna asked, stepping up to me.

I didn’t pull my gaze off Riley as I shook my head. “No. Nothing and it’s killing me.”

“Have you heard back from her uncle yet?”

More frustrating than so far being unable to connect with one of my students was the lack of returned calls from Noah. I’d left three messages. Two before school started attempting to reschedule the conference, and one last week when she didn’t speak after the first two days. I’d even gone so far as to look up her records to ensure I had the correct number, but I already knew I did since every time I called, I received Noah’s voicemail, declaring it was him.

He just hadn’t returned a call yet.

“No. I’m going to try again today though. We’ll see.”

She curled her hand over my shoulder and squeezed. “Good luck. Hey! Carson! Watch what you’re doing with the ball!” she shouted as a ball almost bounced right into her chest. At the last second, she caught it and swung her head toward a group of boys playing basketball and grinned back at me. “I’ll go take this back to them and remind them to play carefully.” She winked. “Again.”

Kids.Gotta love them.“You got it.”

I waved to her and headed toward Riley, scanning the playground for any issues I needed to jump into on my way. Finding none, I slid on the bench next to where she sat and crossed one leg over the other. I sat silently next to her for a few minutes to see what she’d do.

Nothing. She didn’t acknowledge my presence in any way and that crack in my heart grew larger with every sad, passing moment.

“Hey, you like to draw and color, right?” I asked her. What little girl didn’t?

To my surprise, her shoulder closest to me rose and fell.

“I bet you’re an excellent drawer,” I said. Keeping my eyes on the playground so she didn’t feel forced to answer, and to keep an eye on the mass of third graders, I kept talking, acting like I was talking more to myself than her. “I bet you draw unicorns and ice cream cones and I also bet you can draw houses really well, too. You know, I bought some special pens this summer just for you kids to try out.”

I leaned in closer as if I was sharing a secret. I hadn’t been prepared to break them out until a rainy day where we couldn’t be outside, but I was desperate for some sort of connection with Riley. “They have glitter in them,” I whispered.

That got her. Her back straightened, and even though her head was still bent, her lips tipped up. What girl didn’tlovea good glitter pen? Heck, I was twenty-five and still loved them. But I was more girly-girl than most at my age. “I was going to save them for special days. But maybe today we can get them out.”

Her head nodded quickly. Just two quick head nods. It wasn’t much, but it was the most I’d gotten from her. I pushed one more time. “Maybe, if you help me hand them out later, I’ll let you choose the first one?”

Her head turned to me, eyes so big and so bright but still so desperately sad, it took all I had to keep my smile plastered on my face. Her blonde brows rose as if it was the most exciting thing she’d heard in a long time.

“Would you like that?” I asked.

Her excitement diminished and she slid her gaze to the playground. The small smile of hers died as she spoke, for the first time, in the quietest voice. “I lost all my glitter pens when I moved.”

Oh God. Tears welled in my eyes and before I could stop myself, I tucked my arm around her and gave her a quick squeeze. “Then today, we’ll bust out the pens and you can help. Deal?”

She nodded once and sniffed. Before I pushed too hard too fast, I gave her a quick squeeze. Standing, I gestured to a group of girls who were running and playing tag. “I bet they’d let you play with them if you want to.”

She shook her head quickly and darn it. Her head fell back to the mulch.

“Okay. We’ll just look forward to drawing later then.” I flashed her a smile even though she didn’t look back at me, and I walked away, fighting tears and at the same time, a smile.

I got her to talk to me with glitter pens.

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