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"Welcome to PreCal," the teacher announced.
I shyly ducked my head down as he surveyed the class, squinting through his piss-yellow wire frames.
"I hope we can all come to enjoy one another's presence in the name of mathematics. This course is a simple prerequisite if you plan on attending college or a university. If not, it helps with higher brain functioning and problem solving skills. This class is not useless, and I am here as your teacher to prove that to you whilst also making it enjoyable."
This shit finna be boring as hell.
"Now, I want you guys to look over to your right, if no one's to your right, raise your hand, I'll come over to you. For those who do have someone to your right, that's your buddy for the year. Whenever you're not present or when you need help with something, you go to them first, then me. Wave at them and go ahead and introduce yourselves. Get their number or whatever you kiddos do nowadays," the teacher grinned.
Yeah, teacher fun was definitely different than kid fun.
I looked over to my right, and gave the girl a half assed wave. "I'm Linda," she introduced herself, "Do you want my IG or my number?" she asked.
I shrugged, "It don't make."
"What's your name?" she asked tentatively.
"Ora," I left it at that.
Everybody remembered Orabella. Maybe I had a chance at some sort of sanity with just saying my name was Ora.
"Here, type in your number," she handed me her phone. I typed my shit in, handing her the phone back. "First year here? You don't look too familiar," she studied me. I shrugged again, keeping my words brief, "Somewhat new."
"I'm gonna call role," the teacher announced.
I gave the girl a small smile as I got up and went up to the teacher's desk. The classroom was full of desks in rows, and old carpet beneath our feet. Big windows that overlooked the giant US flag waving at us from outside where the sun still beat down at. I stood in front of Mr. Reeves until he looked up.
He was a Black man, coarse black beard and a buff build like he had been someone athletic before he became a teacher- or possibly still was. His dark skin had small black moles on it and his eyes were the same color. He had his hair cut real low, only tiny prickles of hair across it. "Can I help you?"
"I'd like it if you just called my nickname out when you did role, please? It's Ora."
"Okay, I can do that," he instantly agreed.
Hopefully nobody would recognize my last name paired with it. I knew he had to say my full name, right? I asked him about that, and he said no, that he could just call out role using nicknames or first names, if that made me feel more comfortable.
I was asking all of this from him for a reason, wait and see.
"Thanks, sir," I nodded, going to sit back down.
"What do you think 'bout the teacher? You think he look like he gives a lot of work?" Linda asked me curiously, as soon as I sat back down.
I shrugged, "If he do, he seem like he'd be good at teachin' it."
"Math's easy for me, it's just the tests really," she shrugged too. I laughed a little, sitting back down, "I wish that was my only worry academically."
"'Bout to call role," the teacher said. "Amy?"
"Here," two Amy's said at the same time.
"Okay, let's see. Who wants to be Amy #1 and Amy #2?" he asked with what seemed to be his usual grin.
"Neither," one of the girls said, brushing her hair softly over her shoulder. "I'm not a number 2 type of chick."
"I wanna be called by my own name. That's what my mama named me," the other girl stated, looking just as annoyed by his suggestion. "Why don't you just call out everybody full name?"
My stomach sank. Full names it would be then.
"Amy Arrow?"
One girl said here.
He continued on with the attendance, and my thighs were clenched, my nails were digging into my skin, and I was tensed as hell, until he got to my name.
"Ora Hayes?"
"Here," I answered, trying to casually look around the room to see if anyone had recognized my name.
I wasn't being burnt at the stake, so I figured that I was in the all clear. I let out a slow breath. Today probably wouldn't be easy for me in the rest of my classes, but the trick was just to try. I had to.
I still could remember the day that I was arrested, taken out of the school, and forced to finish the rest of my schooling for that year in a barred facility with the rest of the people my age. After that, I went to a different middle school somewhere else in Houston, started a new life, recovered for the most part because of the fact that the judge took pity on me because of my recently deceased mother, and I got start anew.
Eventually, I had went to another high school and I was using a family member's address for the longest. Then they moved out of town, and I had to come back to this district this year. I remember the fear on everybody's faces as we had all stared at down at the girl on the ground, blood leaking out onto the cement. The way people backed away from me and the rumors spread like wild fire.
They made it seem like I was the devil when I had just been fighting through demons. I was fed up and the girl had been bullying me all the way into seventh grade; I was already going off the rails because of my mom and...that day just wasn't the day. I didn't mean to take that girl's life but I also reclaimed my own in a way, that day.
I'm better now. And I will live.
Even if I have to keep the old me in a forgotten dumpster...I just can't let her be found.
"Linda Rogers?"
Linda raised her hand up boredly, as the teacher scanned the classroom. "Alrighttt," he mumbled, continuing.
"Hey, do you have an IG?" Linda asked me after a moment. I got off COD Mobile, and tried not to give her an annoyed look. "No. Not into that."
She looked embarrassed, like I had implied that she shouldn't be into social media either, or something.
"You gotta Snap?" I asked, sighing. That I did have. It was from ninth grade, but whatever. I didn't really even have friends to text. My other middle school one's never text me back from the one year I spent there, and all the people at my old high school were dry texting.
I'm starting to think I'm the problem or something.
"Bet," Linda smiled.
Was she hittin' on me? Was that it? I self consciously brushed my hair away from my face, trying to get a better look at her phone. "Put the scannin' thing up there and I'll add you," I told her.
After we had each other added, I went back to my game. The teacher was done with role and he told us we didn't have anything else planned for today except him passing out the syllabus and classroom expectations and shit.
"Do you know anybody here? Or know your way around?"
I'll give the girl credit: She was more annoying than me. Maybe she was trying to be friendly, or maybe she was interested- but my social battery couldn't be used up by her and her alone.
"I can get around just fine. The school isn't that confusin'. Sorry, I'm just really tired today," I lied quickly, giving her a quick smile. Saying you're tired always excused rudeness. Always.
"I understand. I woke up at like six something this mornin'," she commented. At that, I was curious. Was she in sports or a club or something before school? "Why?" I asked, pausing my game play for a moment.
"Girly shit, you prolly wouldn't understand," she told me dismissively.
I took in her really curly black hair, dark brown skin, silver wire glasses that accessorized her brown eyes, and the stretchy jeans and crop top she had on.
I rose a brow, "I'm a girl, you know that right?"
She blushed, "Well yeah, but aren't you like a stud or something-
"Yeahhh," I said slowly, giving her a weird look.
"I mean, like, I woke up early to do my makeup, switch around outfits, all that stuff," she shrugged.
"I wake up a little bit earlier than I have to do my skin care shit in detail, and sometimes I go through a few outfits in the mornings." I stood up as the bell rung, "We're kinda the same, Linda," I told her with a small smile. "No matter the clothes we wear."
I left PreCal, easily following the room numbers to my next class. I was never the type to get lost somewhere, and following directions, for the most part, had always been real easy for me. Directions were clear cut and straight. Just do as it says. I find that people who are unruly view life more complicated, so they struggle more with clear cut and straight.
The door was wide open and a tall Hispanic woman stood against it with an iPad, "Good morning. Can you tell me your name, sweet pea?" she asked me, scrolling on her screen. "Ora Hayes," I said quickly, glancing behind me to make sure no one was standing there to overhear. "Do you mind if I preferred to just be called Ora...anddd not my full name?"
"Sure, that's fine," she agreed quickly.
I went inside the classroom, finding that I was the first one there. I settled myself into a good seat in the back and put my stuff by my feet. Most likely I wouldn't even bother finding my locker, I could fit all my shit into my backpack anyways, and I knew how to compartmentalize.
I had to do that in enough parts of my life.
I boredly waited for the class to fill up, watching each face that walked in to see if I recognized them, or if they recognized me. It was honestly a privilege to even be back in the district. I had been kicked out of my middle school, expelled really to say officially, and almost knocked out of the area as a whole. The fact that I was let back in spoke volumes.
"You again," someone said with a bit of a smile in their voice.
I slowly glanced up.
"Cecia," I said, my voice dead.
I didn't want her bothering me. Something about her gave me "attention magnet" vibes, and that's not what I wanted. She would make people notice me and wonder who I was. It was just because she was too pretty to go unnoticed. We used to talk occasionally in middle school, seeing us two together would crop up old memories in other people's minds, I'm sure.
"You don't sound happy to see me?" she commented, sitting down in the desk next to mine's, "Did I do sumin wrong, Ora?" Fuck, when she worded it like that, it made me feel guilty. "No," I frowned, fiddling with my phone in its case, "I just wanna be left alone from now on. So respect that," I told her with finality.
"I can't. I mean, I miss you," she told me honestly, "Why would I wanna stay away?" she asked me, seeming perplexed.
"Ion want people realizin' who I am," I hissed, "So just chill, please?"
Cecia only shrugged, obviously not getting what I was saying.
"Who cares if they do? It'll only make them afraid of you. Then people won't mess with you." I was about to speak and she cut me off. "I know a lot about being bullied Ora. We both were," she said softly, "I had to learn to be tougher than I really was until I became that."
"I was sent away, Cee. I know what it's like to be behind bars and to be little more than a number or another case to somebody. To not be a person. I know what being tough is. Right now, staying low is my tough, okay? My form of being tough."
"What about your last year of high school? Is this how you wanna spend it?" she asked me, empathy heavy in her eyes. "What about your youth?"
"Fuck it. I already ruined my so-called youth with a big mistake. One I'll never get away from. No point in even tryin' for college," I mumbled, cheek on my fist. Cecia sighed, "I don't wanna watch you give up hope-
"Then don't watch," I told her harshly.
"You never pushed me away before. But I guess you really are different," she stated, standing up and moving seats. At the same time, Linda entered the classroom, looking around quickly like she was searching for somebody. Just what I needed, another person trying to talk my ear off.
"You," she pointed at me, coming over to my desk.
I froze.
Did she know? She had to.
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