Starstruck

Chapter 6b: Singularities (part 2)

CHAPTER 6

Singularities (part 2)

The next morning my alarm actually awakened me, jarring me out of a dream I didn't want to leave, a dream involving Rigel--again. I lay still for a moment, grasping at the retreating shreds of the dream, but it escaped before I could remember any details.

With a sigh, I rolled over and plucked my glasses from the nightstand and put them on, then sat up. And squinted. My vision was blurrier than yesterday--a lot blurrier. I pulled my glasses off to examine them, but they didn't look smudged.

Before putting them back on, I glanced at my clock and blinked. Then blinked again. The numbers were as clear as they normally were with my glasses on. I turned on my bedside lamp and slowly looked around my room. Amazingly, I could read the names of the planets and their moons on my poster of the solar system and easily pick out titles from book spines in my overstuffed bookcase: A Wrinkle in Time, The Hobbit, The Last Unicorn. The blurriness was gone.

"No way," I said out loud.

In a disbelieving daze, I got up and headed to the bathroom, my glasses abandoned next to my bed. The whole time I was getting ready for school, I kept expecting my eyes to revert to normal--well, what was normal for me, anyway--but they didn't. My vision stayed a perfect 20/20 without glasses or contacts or anything.

Still, I stuck my glasses in my backpack so I'd have them handy when--if?--my eyes did change back. I drank a quick glass of milk and grabbed a cereal bar to eat at the bus stop, then ducked out of the house before Aunt Theresa could notice and question me about not wearing my glasses. I wanted to see if my lovely new vision would last the day first.

I'd never heard of anyone spontaneously becoming not nearsighted. Was it even supposed to be possible? It was like some good fairy had cast a spell or something--first my complexion, and now my eyes. Would my figure be next? I glanced down at my chest. Was I maybe a teensy bit more buxom? No, that was just wishful thinking.

"M! Did you get contacts over the weekend?" Brianna greeted me on the bus. "That's awesome!"

"Totally!" Deb agreed before I could explain. "Your eyes look amazing without the glasses. Did you get tinted ones? They look even greener than usual."

"Really?" I asked, startled. "Thanks, but--"

"Now I'm glad you decided against the eye shadow," Bri said, studying my face. "It would be too much, I think. Just the pencil is perfect."

Abruptly, I decided not to tell them I wasn't wearing contacts. It would sound so . . . unbelievable. I still wasn't sure I believed it myself.

On the way to Geometry, a few other people noticed my missing glasses.

"Hey, Marsh, looking good," Ginger Ramsey commented as she passed me. The two girls with her, Alicia and Jessica, chorused their agreement.

Startled, I thanked them, a new and unfamiliar sense of confidence giving a little extra spring to my step. Of course, there was only one person whose opinion really mattered, and I was especially eager to see how he'd react to the "new" me.

Before I reached class I passed a few of the other football players, who were busily dissecting Friday night's game. I normally wouldn't have paid any attention at all, but I caught Rigel's name so I slowed down a little to listen.

"Yeah, what was with those passes, anyway?" David Jaworski was saying. "He was rifling them in there like we were in the NFL or something. Who could catch that?"