The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon (8 page)

As I wrap up the sub, I’m pleased that I didn’t make a mistake once or drop it. Of course I’d feel dignified, if Toby hadn’t snuck up behind me and snatched the register before I can ring out the person. Just as well I guess, saves me the sales pitch step. Saying my blessing to the customer and handing the rest to Toby, I move back over to Ash and Chance.

“You’re getting really good at that Daria. I knew you’d rock the sub world.” Ash squeals practically bouncing up and down.

I have to smile at her. I just wish I had her enthusiasm. Chance remains a little more reserved. I notice keys in his hands now, so I guess they do have to go. I’d be selfish if I made them stay. The demon in me wants to be selfish. It really does.

“Good luck tomorrow at the school. Don’t let my mom rattle you too much rabbit.” Chance tells me with less enthusiasm as his sister.

I nod and smile at him.

That’s right. I almost forgot about my experimenting with high school tomorrow. I have to wonder how that is going to go. I guess it’ll be a surprise. But I do have the rest of the night to stress, so I’m grateful for not having a meltdown at the moment.

Then they say their goodbyes, and I stand stotic as they walk away and out the door. I’d like to say at the rest of the night was more exciting, but it just wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it could have been better. At the end of the night, I help Toby clean up. This was the thing I’m most good at, to his blushing pleasure. It’s good I’m mostly on the nightshift. Cleaning is essential during that time.

Toby was nice enough to offer a ride home, but unlike Chance, I don’t feel the comfort of agreeing. So I declined, and saved face by mentioning maybe another time. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. And the walk home wasn’t so bad either. It really was super close. I even pass the high school I missed on the way in. I was a little busy eyeing other things earlier, so I can forgive my lack of observation. It’s nice to know that I can even walk to school.

When I’m climbing the garage stairs leading up to my apartment, I feel a strong sense of freedom. Before I always felt if I push myself a little more it’ll come naturally. And now, here it is. I’m coming home late at night from my job to my very own apartment. It’s enough to make me want to break down in happy tears.

That’s when I notice something resting at the base of my door.

Chapter Six

Instinct stops me cold. I feel my hackles rise and the scent of ozone is strong in the air. It’s not real I know, the scent is like a warning for my inner Taser. It’s like a mini lightning strike, and I think it’s all mental. But whatever it’s borne from, I’m holding it to me like a knife as I rise the stairs the last couple of steps. My mind is spinning that my family have found me and this is some kind of game their playing.

I don’t hear anyone around in here, and all the lights were off at the Harris’s. But that doesn’t mean anything. My family makes it a habit, of being sneaky. Even so, I move with caution. At the small landing, I find that the something on at the base is actually a duffle bag. What the?

Kneeling down, I use shaking fingers to tear open the zipper. Halfway through opening it, I notice a piece of paper than must have fallen from a breeze due to my opening the outer garage door. Or whatever, but it still wasn’t in full view. Picking it up, I scan it with fast eyes. Then choke out a laugh. My nerves calm instantly.

It’s from Ashley.

So is the duffle.

Apparently, this is a little congratulations gift. She says in the note that she has had some old clothes lying around and thought I could use them. Or in her words ‘no one should go to their first day of school without a new wardrobe’. Sure enough, when I pull the zipper all the way, the bag is full of brightly colored decent clothes.

I can’t help smiling as I carry the bag inside and place it on my dresser. Gazing up at my reflection, I spy the girl everyone else see’s. Her features are a stretched a little too tightly, and her flesh a little too pale. Her hair hangs lose from a messy knot, and seems almost black beside her skin. There must be something nice about her, if people I just me can do things for me, but I don’t see it. I guess there is a plus side to having someone remember you though.

It’s a good feeling that I didn’t memory block anyone today. I just hope it’ll be just as nice tomorrow. But I don’t want to jinx it.

Oh crap, I’m sure I just did.

The following morning, I make darn sure I’m up well before anyone thinks to come knocking. That way I can avoid another scuffle with my bed sheet that is more evil than me. Plus, there is no way I’m going to be caught looking like a hobo when or if Chance comes over. Sure, I highly doubt he’s going to come by again anytime. But still, a girl has to take precautions.

With nothing to do but wait for my next big move, I decided that it’s probably in my best interest to stock up my shelves with food and such. One cannot live on discounted subs every night, or for their breakfast. No matter how yummy they might still look in the morning. So that is what I did. I hoofed it to a little food mart that is just shy of the high school, and made it home all before the sun came up. Not bad for a newly independent demon huh? Yeah, I’m impressed too.

What’s more impressive? Is that after I scarf down the best tasting cheese Danish ever, I even had time to wash up and look presentable. Of course, the presentable part is more due to the fact that I have decent looking clothes to wear. So as I sit on the horribly flat sofa and gaze at an old looking tv with the power off, I can’t help gazing at myself with a soft wonder.

I swear I’m not conceded, but I have to admit that I look good. An actual pair of jeans that fit, does wonders for my thin frame, so much so I feel a little self-conscious. Not much mind you, but enough that I almost considered giving the clothes back to Ashley. Thankfully the feeling faded, and after slipping on a t-shirt that is sans holes, I know for sure I’m not giving anything back. Did I mention the pink hoody that was in the duffel? No? Well, let me tell you, it’s the closest thing I’ve ever had that resembled a jacket.

I feel so spoiled.

That’s what I’m doing when a knock finally comes through my door, admiring the warm pink hoody on my lap. I rush to the door, and do a quick check to make sure my hair is firmly knotted on top of my head. Not a single hair out of place, I yank open the door with a bright smile. Then it dims a bit. Chance isn’t at my door. His mother is. With coffee. My smile brightens again.

“Morning, Daria.” Mellissa says as she passes me one of the two travel mugs she holds. “You ready for a fun filled day of testing?”

Taking the coffee from her, I cock my head to the side like a confused puppy dog. Testing? Do students really have to take tests on their first day? I must look really confused, because she smiles at me sympathetically.

“You mentioned the other night that you don’t have transcripts right?”

I nod.

“That means we’ll have to subject you to tests to see what grade we’ll be squeezing you in. Just protocol. Nothing to be worried about. And I promise we’ll even allow breaks in between.”

The last bit is said with a wink and a funny little smile. I guess it’s funny to make the day seem like a cross between jail time and torture? And here I thought I was just going to step into the school like a normal person. Clearly not. But hey, I’m not normal, so there yah go.

She continues before I can give a halfhearted nod, “And who knows Miss Pigwidgeon, if all goes well, you might be able to start tomorrow.”

Now I smile just as delighted as before. Looks like she could sense my disappointment. I have to say, I love her enthusiasm. It’s almost as strong as mine. For the first Guidance Counselor I’ve ever met, I think she’s the best. Plus, she brought me coffee. Nothing better than that.

So basically, after another awkward car ride in which I don’t have anything clever to say, I go through a day full of tests. Fortunately, I didn’t see Chance once. He and Ashley had already left for school by the time Mellissa and I headed out. My brain would have been fried for sure just getting a glance from his blue eyes. And I need all the electrodes firing at full power today.

Sitting in a four by four room, which closely resembles that of a cubicle in hell (not that I’ve ever been – just a theory) is not the most fun I’ve had. I can say that I’m mighty pleased with myself though. A hundred percent or more certain that I aced every test placed in front of me by Mellissa. There are some times where I’m grateful for my demon gifted (or cursed – depending on the day) abilities. And today is one of those.

Thanks to the early development of my consciousness, I’ve somehow gained a photographic memory. Maybe it’s like a plus side to having everyone around me forget who I am from time to time. Like a fail-safe or something. Where I can make sure even if I’m forgotten, nothing will be forgotten by me. So while I never once stepped foot inside a school building, I still know some stuff. And by some stuff, I mean more so than most.

My demon siblings, even though they are completely rough around the edges, came in handy. Like when they would go to school and leave me at home, I’d consume everything left behind. Books became my passion, and it didn’t even take long to teach myself to read. I’m sure they got in trouble for missing assignments, and all because I would steal them. All for knowledge purposes of course. It was just a bonus that they would hurt in the crossfire. Hey, a girl has to strike back at some point.

And as demons go, my attempts are pretty light. That is if you don’t count the drugging of them in my escape.

Which I don’t by the way.

None the less, I’m a rockstar when it comes to learning things. But when it comes to putting them down in test form, it leaves my skills as something to be desired. Which is why, I am now sitting in an office opposite of Mellissa and some dude in a tie named Mr. Mathews
ie.
The Vice Principal. They have the verdict for me. All my plans for starting over hangs in the balance with these too faculty members and one happens to be my landlord too.

Is my shady past revealed in my tightly lipped answers?

Will my dreams be flushed down the toilet?

I hope not on both.

***

While trying to be obedient and nonchalant at the same time, I sit erect in the comfiest chair ever. I swear this thing is more padded than my newly acquired over the shoulder boulder holder (courtesy of Ashley’s hand-me-down duffel, and in no way weird. Hey, my girls need love too). I have to fight the urge to lean back with a sigh of delight. I need to appear diligent before prying eyes. That of Mellissa and Mr. Mathews, who I’m just realizing might have a little flair for the dramatic.

They’ve been in a silent pause longer than my new jeans. It’s kind of annoying. Mostly because I’m not sure what they will say. I’m not all that sure what will happen if I can’t go to school. It won’t be the end of the world or anything. But what’s the point of being me, if I can’t live a little? And this girl wants to live in high school.

One’s nightmare is another’s dream.

I’m one step away from screaming ‘spit it out already’ when they share a look together. It’s the first since I came in. Most eyeballing has been reserved for me. Still not sure if the news is good or bad yet. Then Mellissa breaks into a grin. So does Mr. Mathews. He turns back to me, looking much younger than his Santa Claus impersonation. A smile tugs at my lips, but I keep them sealed. Just in case.

Mellissa flicks a glance to Mr. Mathews and says, “See, I told you she was special. Should we tell her?”

He nods enthusiastically. I cringe. Why am I special? Tell me what?

This has disaster written all over it.

“Daria it seems we wasted a perfectly good school day of making you take placement tests. Instead, I should have just stuck you in all AP classes.” Mellissa tells me happily, if not a little guilty too.

Oh. Is that all? Well I could have told them that. But then what runaway teen happens to be a sort of genius? Not many I would guess. Besides, don’t I want to minimize the attention to my weirdness?

Yeah, I think I made the good call here.

Still. They both grin at me like I’m the eighth world wonder. If they only knew right?

Mr. Mathews, breaking his silence, says “The question remains, where have you been hiding your academic talents your whole life?”

Red alert. Red alert. Bolt preparation is a must.

While I think running out the door is sounding like a great idea, he and Mellissa share a laugh. Why are they laughing? I don’t think that question is particularly funny. And then I get it. They are implying that I’m a blessing to the school because I’ll obviously make good grades. Or that’s what I’m surmising here.

I smile. Yep, I get it folks, don’t worry.

“So I passed?” I say softly, my voice hardly recognizable.

I really need to keep a bottle of water handy, otherwise I’m going to go through life constantly sounding like a frog. Not very attractive. Not in the least.

Mellissa and Mr. Mathews share a laugh. I blush.

“Did you pass? Of course you did sweetie.” She tells me, like I just asked if a tree is wood.

“Oh. Good. When can I start?”

More look sharing. More smiles. Me inwardly dry heaving.

“Love the drive kid. I just love it. We need more like you here.” Mr. Mathews tells me with no decorum.

Mellissa rolls her eyes at him. I smile for real. I knew I liked her.

“Well. If you would like, I can work out your schedule and we can get you started tomorrow.”

Wow, Daria Pigwidgeon, high school student. It definitely has a nice ring to it.

I nod and say, “I would like nothing more.”

Later that night, as I stock soda bottles in the coolers in the dining room at work, I still can’t believe how easy it was for me to actually get sighed up for school. I mean it wasn’t easy, easy. But it was better than me having to confess that I’ve never been before and have to start from the bottom up. Somehow, I don’t think my excitement would be the same if I had to face a bunch of kindergarteners.

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