Jon walks down the halls of his high school, noticing a small chink in his armor. He was short. Er, Sandra was short, really short, and seeing such a familiar place from a far more intimidating angle had knocked him off his game. The tardy bell had rung and only a few students were left scrambling around him to get to class. Steve Farber almost treated him like a football dummy, juking around him like an obstacle and stampeding past to only be a little late to Chemistry. But it was the sheer power, the mix of speed and size, creating this whirlwind of force that almost sent him tripping leaving Jon questioning whether or not they were even still the same species.
It was a fun house mirror version of his school, he contemplated. It’s New School+. They buffed all the bullies and slightly changed textures, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. It’s still the same game.
The ever present musk of B.O. assaulted Jon’s newly sensitive nose, leaving him feeling a bit light heated. He nearly followed Steve into Chemistry when a wandering attendance clerk snapped him out of his old routine, being only mere moments from stepping on a landmine and walking into his old classroom.
“Excuse me, ma’am, do you have an appointment? Visitors are supposed to check in the office first. Is there anyone in particular you’re looking for?”
“Yes, of course. Sorry Mrs. Varney, I’m just sort of in a rush after getting a call from vice principal Childress.” Jon kicked himself in the butt for thinking he could just waltz in through the student entrance, of course he’d be out of place! I just need to focus from here on out. I’m an adult, I’m a visitor to a school, no one here recognizes me. I need to leave Jon at the door before I completely bomb.
“It’s no problem, I can just give you a hall pass. Clark’s really on one today so we won’t keep him waiting any longer than needs be. So I’m guessing that must make you Zoe’s mom, right? Heard a lot of ranting and raving about her this morning.”
“Yup, I’m Sandra, that’s me, in the flesh. And I’m guessing that means Zoe is in a bit more than trouble a dress code violation warrant.”
“It’s so unexpected, but it seems so. Whatever your daughter pulled had Clark’s eyebrow vein pulsing so hard, I thought it was about to burst. Wish it would have, I’d be sending your daughter flowers if she put that man into an early retirement. All I know is a lot of kids are talking and he’s fixing to come down pretty hard on her.”
“That’s just fantastic,” Jon could feel his blood begin to boil.
“Oh, don’t worry, I still think she will be fine. She’s a good girl, Clark just needs to blow off some hot air for thirty minutes and usually if you let him rant, then make a show of tucking your tail between your legs, he’ll be too tuckered out to do more than assign a few days of in-school suspension. So here’s your pass and his office is just at the end of the hall, to the right.”
“Thank you again so much Mrs. Varney-”
“It’s Grace by the way. I have to say, I’m rather impressed you know my name because unless my memory is slipping, I don’t think we’ve met. Makes sense that Zoe is such a delight and talked about so well if she has mother that even cares about learning the staff’s names.”
Jon blushed awkwardly at this stroke of good fortune. His little slip up, of knowing something he shouldn’t have, of meta-gaming at the table, was taken in stride. Instead of attributing it to malice, Grace, chalked it up to motherhood. It seemed silly, in retrospect, to think that anyone would make anything of these slip ups, that someone might sniff him out. He could finally relax a little knowing now that there wasn’t a bloodhound gang ready to rouse him out and that most people would do the lazy thing and just accept what they see at face value.
“Thanks, guess I’ve just always been good at putting names to faces. It was so nice to meet you.” Shoot, I think I should have said wonderful there. Or is that too strong? I still feel like I’m still missing something Sandra would do after being so warmly welcomed by someone who clearly likes Zoe… oh, I got it! “And I love your polish by the way, it looks so summery and is just the perfect color on you.”
“Oh, thank you!” Grace lit up, “I just had it done yesterday actually and you’ve been the first to notice. I figured after spring break it’d be a good way to motivate me for that last push to summer. It was a pleasure meeting you Sandra, if Clark gives you too much of a hard time, tell me after so I can set him straight. Remember, down the hall and to the right.”
The fun-house mirror effect was back in full force and it was taking every bit of his focus to not lose his composure. Feeling like a mouse in a cat lady’s house, Jon distracted himself from the ever present anxieties that only high-school can evoke by redirecting that energy into obsessing over his gait. By putting all his mental focus on putting one foot in front of the other and timing it with a swing in the hips, he could manage an imitation of Sandra’s confident, rocking, feminine steps.
It turned into a fun little rhythm game of making the right motions at the right times, with plenty of negative feedback from Sandra’s rumble pads if something was mistimed. But once those haunches had momentum it was hard to stop them from hitting their beats.
Confidence came easy, Jon feeling like he was running up a high score with each successive step and in turn putting that bolster back into Sandra’s strut. It was this positive feedback loop and people were taking notice. Which was a nice little endorphin rush for about two pico-seconds before Jon realized that, uh oh! People were taking notice!
And of course, it couldn’t be just normal, everyday taxpayers marching their way to the library. It had to be a class of the worst of the worst, the most vile, evil, spiteful group that’s ever crawled or slithered on Earth. Little monsters that desperately prey and feast on the weak. Incoming Freshmen.
Just kill me if my ass ever got like that.
Oh trust me girl, I’d kill you way before you got that big.
What size do you think those jeans even are?
She probably has to shop at one of those stores where they don’t even use real sizes anymore and just call things 1 and 2 again to not hurt their feelings.
I’d still do her.
Patrick, you say that about every girl.
Jon’s shoulders began to droop, doing his best to tune out that gaggle of eighth graders but rolling poorly on all his saves. Like weathering a storm, he was almost through it when one of the rowdier boys picked the wrong thread.
Oh, I think I know who that is. That’s my sister’s friend Zoe’s mom. You know, that cheerleader that’s over a lot. No wonder she has such a dumpy, look where she got it from. Man, if only she took more after her mom with her ti-
With the grace of a ballerina and the fury of a devilish Tasmanian, Jon spun around to stamp a foot and put eyes on the boy saying such vile things about his sister. “Do you want to finish that thought?”
The crowd oooohed and snickered seeing that one of them had been singled out.
“I didn’t think so,” Jon continued. “And if I hear one peep from the staff about you misbehaving, I’m going to have a conversation with your mom about how you talk at school. Are we clear?”
“Yes ma’am.” Kids were stifling their laughter, itching to launch into the roast at the tip of their tongue once Jon was out of earshot. He’d get what he deserved, a full day of razzing for looking like a wimp in front of an adult, which may as well be death for a preteen.Serves him right for how he talked about Zoe.
“Good,” and Jon turned back on his heel, capping off that side quest and returning to his main objective.
Retrieve Zoe!
