Page 101 of Miss Me Not

I could hear snickering behind me as a third and fourth paper ball hit me in the head in quick sequence. Obviously, everyone was enjoying the show that seemed oblivious to Ms. Jones as she continued to write out the instructions for our big project on the board.

"Dean must be a glutton for punishment," I heard Katie say loudly. "Obviously, he must not care about catching any diseases," she added to whoever would listen.

I wanted to continue to ignore her, but something inside me snapped. Years of abuse at her hands had never made anger boil up inside me like it did at that moment. Maybe it was just the idea that my mind was done with it all, but I knew it was actually my heart that spurred my reaction.

Without even considering my actions, I seized my heavy world history book in my hand and threw it at Katie without missing a beat. The distance between us slowed the book down, but it still hit her square in the face. Blood spurted out of her nose and spattered across her desk and down her shirt.

Crying out in pain, she cupped her nose, looking at me with hatred. "You bitch, you broke my nose," she shrieked, standing up and advancing on me.

"Next time, I'll break your fucking face if you ever talk about him like that again! You got me? I'll put up with your shit, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I allow you to trash him!" I said, stepping close to her so she wouldn't mistake the seriousness on my face.

"What is going on in here?" Whore Cat asked, stepping between us. "Madison, you can't throw a textbook at people," she said, clearly shocked at my actions. "Go to the office," she added, clearly shaken over my outburst.

"Right, because textbooks hurt," I said, making a point of looking at the crumpled up notes on the floor.

"Jill, will you take Katie to the clinic while I call the office?" I heard her say as I stalked out of the room with my bag.

I was more than halfway to the office when the ramifications of my actions dawned on me. My pace slowed and I closed my eyes briefly in dismay. I was bound to be suspended, which meant a call to Donna, which meant trade school for me. I was screwed.

The principal's secretary was expecting me when I arrived. "He's waiting for you in his office," she said unsympathetically.

Keeping my chin up, I made my way to Douche Bag's office and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Opening the door, I stepped into the one room of the school that I had hoped to avoid.

He was sitting behind his desk with his fingers stapled together on a folder atop his desk.

"Ms. Hanson, am I to understand you initiated a fight in the middle of first period?"

Words of denial sprang forward to attempt to save me, but I held them back. This was all just a formality. I had already been found guilty and convicted. Nothing I could say would change anything. They saw what they wanted to see. Believed what they wanted to believe. So, I sat there, in stoic silence.

"Remaining silent will not help your situation, young lady," he said in the condescending tone that had earned him the nickname I had deemed him with. "I want to know why you would think you could get away with initiating a fight in one of my classes with an innocent student."

I literally bit my tongue at his words, so I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. I could taste the copper of my blood in my mouth, but I remained silent.

"Fine, we can play your silent game, but you will not leave my office until I know why you threw a book at a fellow student," he said in a clearly aggravated voice.

I balked at his words. Spending the day in his office was as enticing as wrapping myself in barbed wire. I could say anything. Take my punishment, and then I would at least be free of this god-awful place. Looking at his smug face, though, kept me silent as I sat there with my arms folded across my chest.

The minutes slowly ticked by as we sat there in silence. Eventually, he stopped glaring at me and went on with his work. I kept my eyes on him, unwilling to show my weakness by looking down. First period ended with the ringing of the bell and still I sat. My butt eventually went numb at the end of second period and yet, I didn’t move. I remained rigid, not showing any sign of giving in. >"How did you find the same plates for the twins that you used for Dean and Trish?" I asked, intrigued at the matching series.

"Tim," Sarah said, looking up from her own tub that she was emptying. "He searched high and low on the Internet until he found two with the original pattern. I was hormonal at the time, so I wound up bursting into tears. Poor Tim, he thought I hated them," she added laughing.

"They're cool," I said, running my finger over the tiny handprints. Did Donna have stuff stored away with my handprints? I doubted it. Clutter wasn't her thing. We had some decorations from years ago, but neither of us had dragged them out over the last four years. For all I knew, they could be in some trash pile somewhere.

Digging more through the tubs, I was intrigued when I stumbled across a Christmas village that was completely miniaturized. Unwrapping each house, I placed them on the floor around me. Each house was individualized with different types of structures and painting setting them apart from one another. Once all the houses, fifty in all, were unpacked and sitting on the floor around me, Sarah had Tim drag in a large plywood board from the garage to set up the village on. The board had been painstakingly painted with small roads and ponds that looked frozen. Multiple holes had been drilled through the board in sporadic locations to run the cords through. Sarah put the twins and me in charge of setting up the village, which we took to heart. We spent hours setting the houses and trees up so they resembled the perfect Christmas village. Once all the houses were in place, we used the fake snow Sarah had bought to add a whimsical touch to the entire thing.

"It woks good," Ashley said, clapping her hands with delight.

"What do you think, Dora?" I asked as she studied the board critically.

She smiled broadly. "It's bootiful," she said, clapping her hands too.

The twins grabbed the rest of the family so they could come see our handiwork. I stood up, working the kinks out of my neck from sitting hunched over on the floor so long.

"It looks great," Dean said, coming up behind me.

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