Morning Star Read Free

good-bye, only to see the back of the car already half a block down the street. Felicia steeled herself and walked with an air of pretend calm through streams of laughing, jostling students to the office.
    Inside, a gray-haired woman looked up from her computer screen and smiled over her half glasses at Felicia. “Good morning. How may I help you?”
    Felicia reached into her knapsack and presented a piece of paper to the woman, who thanked her and asked her to sit and wait. Felicia sank onto a bench. The breakfast toast squirmed in her stomach. To distract her rebellious digestive system, she stared at everything in this school office: the colorful posters, a wall calendar with puppy-dog illustrations, a vase of yellow flowers.
    A woman in a red suit jacket and clicking high heels entered from a rear door and picked up a microphone. Her voice echoed throughout the school, welcoming the students, listing coming tryouts for school teams, choirs, and clubs. The national anthem followed her greetings. Those in the office stood at attention, so Felicia did too.
    After that, the woman in the red jacket came over and introduced herself. Her handshake was warm, her smile welcoming.
    â€œI’m Mrs. Mackie, the school principal. You’re in Grade Eight, right?” She turned to introduce another girl who had entered the office. “Dorothy will take you to your class.” Dorothy looked with interest at Felicia. The two girls left the office and started down the corridor together.
    â€œWhat did you say your name was?”
    â€œFelicia.”
    â€œWow, that’s so pretty.”
    â€œDorothy’s nice.”
    â€œFor an old lady! I don’t know what my parents were thinking when they came up with my name. You can call me Dodie. Everybody does.”
    Felicia glanced at Dorothy as they walked along, noticed her rosy cheeks, her glossy brown braids held in place with butterfly clips.
    â€œI like the way your hair looks.”
    Dorothy turned to examine Felicia’s beaded braids. “I’ve never seen any like yours up close. How do you make them like that, so tiny?”
    â€œMy grandmother did it for me.”
    They arrived at the classroom door. Dorothy breezed through and Felicia followed, her heart in her throat. She hoped the teacher was nice and wouldn’t ask the class to greet her. There was a hum of voices, and nobody stared at her. The teacher put her hand on Felicia’s shoulder.
    â€œAttention, everyone! I want you to say hello to your new classmate.”
    The room became quiet. A few heads swiveled in Felicia’s direction. Someone said “Hi.”
    Felicia tried to keep smiling, ignored her churning stomach. She noticed two girls at the back of the room putting their heads together, one with her hand covering her mouth, whispering.
    The teacher’s hand squeezed her shoulder. “What’s your name, dear?”
    â€œFelicia.”
    â€œLovely. I’m Miss Peabody.” Felicia felt herself propelled toward a desk. “Here’s your spot. Have a seat.”
    Felicia sat down with relief. Lined notebooks were distributed. Miss Peabody talked and wrote on the board at the same time. When she underlined a word, the chalk broke in the middle of her sentence. She picked up another piece and continued. Felicia tried to pay attention, but her mind was buzzing. She stared straight ahead at the board, but the words meant nothing to her.
    Relax. Stay calm.
    Felicia’s grandmother had advised her to take deep breaths and count to ten when she was upset, so she inhaled deeply. The room was hot and stuffy. Perspiration began to trickle down her side.
    I should have just worn the T-shirt instead of all this other stuff.
    But it was too late to change her wardrobe, and since she didn’t have a locker yet, she had nowhere to put the extra clothes. Felicia pushed the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows and felt some relief. The words on the