Flecks of Gold Read Free

but it was like demolishing a house only to realize afterward that you were just supposed to paint it.
    We walked in silence for a while, and I was grateful. With my churning emotions, silence was safest, but it was still pretty uncomfortable. I held back a sigh of relief when we finally reached the school.
    “Well, it was nice meeting you, Mary Margaret. See you around.” Which probably meant, “I might see you, but don’t expect me to talk to you.”
    “Yeah, see you. Thanks for the kumquat thing,” I said, holding the little fruit up like an idiot.
    “Right. Tell me what you think.” He waved a final decisive good-bye.
    I berated myself for my complete cheesiness. What was up with me this morning? So I’d never been the world’s most popular kid. Even if I was a bit of an outcast, I’d never had this much trouble making small talk before.
    I went to the office and got my schedule, then headed to my first period class—chemistry. I found the room a little before the bell rang. Two girls in designer outfits were talking and laughing near the back of the class. Several boys drooled openly over them. The back was my favorite place to sit, so I approached the seat next to the girl with perfectly styled blonde hair wearing a tight, blue v-neck shirt and black pants. She looked up at me. I felt a twinge of regret for not choosing my outfit more carefully. My jeans were two years old, and my green washed-out shirt and old jacket hung on my body like a limp rag.
    “This seat is saved.” The blonde girl eyed my towering height as if it disgusted her.
    “Sorry.” I smiled tightly, looking into her eyes.
    She recoiled. “Wow, Suze, take a look at this girl’s freaky eyes.” The rest of the students in the room turned to look. I dropped my gaze and quickly sat down a few seats away.
    “Seriously, they’re like tiger eyes or something. It’s scary, and she’s like ten feet tall,” the girl continued loudly.
    The bell rang, shutting the blonde up, but I kept my eyes cast down through the hour to avoid curious classmates trying to snatch a glimpse of the one-woman freak show. After awhile I felt the other kids’ eyes drift away and ignore me again. I noticed that no one ever came to sit in the “saved” seat. I slouched in my chair and simply endured, wishing I’d put off coming to school.
    After class I went up to the teacher to ask him what I needed to do to catch up.
    “I’m sorry,” he said in an oddly high voice. “I didn’t even see you. You should have said something.”
    “It’s okay.” I was used to being overlooked. Sometimes I felt like it was almost magical the way my giant, tiger-eyed self could go unnoticed.
    The teacher gave me my assignments, and I glumly left the room.
    I was glad when it was finally lunch. English hadn’t gone well either, and my nerves were on overload. A traitorous part of me was angry with Mom for choosing pond scum as a boyfriend, but the bigger part of me knew it wasn’t her fault. I really didn’t feel like being rejected again, so I sat down at an empty table near a corner of the lunch room.
    I was wallowing in a small, but beautifully decorated pity party, complete with imaginary streamers, so at first I didn’t hear my name.
    “Hello? I’m talking to you, Mary Margaret,” someone said.
    I looked up, startled. “What? Oh, uh, Kelson. I didn’t hear you.”
    “Yeah, I got that. So can I sit here or what?”
    “Sure.” I felt confused, but Kelson just plunked down, a sigh escaping his lips. A fresh wash of unfamiliar, worshipful thoughts swooped into my head.
    “Today’s been horrible. My teachers must have conspired to assign a dune full of homework for the same day. I think they want to see if they can make us have a break up.”
    My brow furrowed at “break up.” Was that a funny new way of saying break down? And what about the “dune” thing? Maybe he was a writer.
    Then my cynical thoughts dulled and drifted away. “I’ve wondered if