The Dancers ©

ᴥMadame Mayorᴥ

When the lunch bell rings, I keep my head down as I try to make myself smaller than Tamara. Tamara unfortunately is starting to take notice. “Why are you hunching your shoulders like that? You look like the hunchback of Notre Dame’s girlfriend.”

            “Nothing Tam,” I grumble. That’s when I cringe at my very words. I’ve never been one to grumble. Not around Tamara anyway.

            So it’s not surprising to see her go on her tippy toes so she can be as close to my sight line as possible. “Something is wrong, and I don’t like being brushed off. So tell me Die…What…Is…Going…on?” Is it embarrassing to admit that Tamara’s scolding voice makes me feel like I’m going to be grounded for a month?

            Before I can say anything Castor is approaching me towards the cafeteria doors.

            “Die, I need to talk with you—” then he glances at Tamara before he adds, “in private.” Shaking my head in disbelief I’m about to leave the cafeteria. Once I feel his cold hands on mine I stop. Tamara is saying something to Castor, but I don’t register her words.

            All I see is Castor and all I want is Castor. Why? I have no clue. All I know is that I want to give him a chance to explain himself, despite the part where I’m still mad at him.

            “Fine,” I say aloud. Tamara is surprised by my outburst. Castor on the other hand, isn’t.

            I give Tamara’s hand a quick squeeze of reassurance before I follow Castor into the now empty school hallway. “So, how are you going to explain yourself?” I ask him as I turn my back away from a billboard with flyers of after school club meetings.

            “Okay…as I said before, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about who my Mom is, but I really don’t want you or her to meet each other,” says Castor with fear in his eyes. The look of fear doesn’t suit him so well. I start to shake in laughter as I choke on what I planned on saying next. “What are you laughing for? I’m being serious.”

            Putting my hand on the billboard to steady myself I reply, “You make your mom sound like she’s a villain! She can’t really be that bad. I mean, if she’s really the mayor then the people who voted for her must have found her likeable.”

            “Or she just pretended to be likeable like most politicians do,” replies Castor.

            Shaking my head I say, “Why won’t you let me be the judge of that Castor. I think you should give your family more credibility in the likeable department.”

            Castor’s shoulders slump in resignation as he adds, “That is not all you have to know. I don’t want you going to meet my mom and my family completely blind.” When I lean a little towards him he continues. “One of my brother’s isn’t what you would call…normal looking.”

            I try to remember each of Castor’s brothers when I saw them on Tuesday. All of them appeared normal to me at the time. “What are you trying to say?”

            “Just when you see him, don’t be scared. He was born the way he looks and he can’t help who he is.” Castor runs his hand through his hair and I feel myself smile.

            “Well, I’m sure I’ll be able to not freak out. I’ll just make sure my sisters try to do the same as me.” Castor looks relieved and I must look more confused than when this conversation between us started. What is really normal looking anyway? Isn’t everyone normal? Isn’t everyone also different? Still, there’s no way I’m going to question it. What happens will happen I guess.