“Sounds good.”
We get back to the room where Kayleigh is sitting on the floor with Stan splayed across her legs.
“Hey, Kayleigh, how do you feel about helping me and my friends with the food prep for tomorrow?”
Her eyes widen with relief, but then she says, “I can’t cook.”
I laugh. “Neither can I, but if you can peel vegetables and follow instructions, you’ll be fine.”
She smiles.
The teacher leaves, so I get back to work while Kayleigh plays with Stan.
“I’m not afraid of them, you know,” Kayleigh says, breaking the silence after a while.
“Afraid of whom?”
“The other kids.”
“Do you think I think that’s why you didn’t want to go with them?”
She shrugs. “My teacher is nice, but she’s too naïve.”
I bite a laugh. “Why do you say that?”
“She thinks I’m a sheltered wallflower. I’m not, you know? I’ve been to a lot of places most people can only dream of. But I promised my dad I wouldn’t get in trouble, so I have to ignore their comments.”
There’s so much to unpick from her comment that I don’t even know where to start.
“It’s better sometimes to not lower to someone else’s level.”
She sighs. “That’s what my dad says. I have one friend. She’s really nice and is the only person who doesn’t look at me like I’m a freak for being homeschooled. I’ve heard some kids say it’s because I was sick. Others say it’s because I must have gotten in trouble at school and been expelled. Someone even said I killed someone.”
I laugh.
“It’s true,” she continues. “Some stories are so wild that I’ve started writing them down in my notebook. One day I’ll write a book calledThe Crimes Kay Never Committed.”
“That’s a good title. I’d read it.”
She smiles but then looks down at Stan with sadness. “I wish I was in Vermont with my uncles. They’re the best. I love Uncle Bastian’s mom, and he always lets me in the stud—” She stops herself and looks around as if to check no one else heard her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Please forget what I said.”
I make a mock erasing gesture with my hand, and her smile returns.
“You know, it can take some time, but I’m sure you’ll make more friends here,” I say. “When I moved to Stillwater, I didn’t know anyone either, but now I have plenty of friends. I even have a dog who somehow can’t forget me when he forgets everything else.”
“He’s cute.”
I nod. “It’s his saving grace.”
Stan raises his head and barks. We both laugh.
“Hey, I have an idea. If you want to help me, I could use a hand inputting the survey results into a spreadsheet so we can see in one place what people in the community need.”
“I’d love that. I’m great with computers, and I love to help. My dad gives a lot of money to charity, but I like helping out. I’m never allowed to do anything myself.”
I’m not sure her assessment is entirely accurate, but I’m glad she comes from a family that understands the needs of the less fortunate.
“Well, you can definitely get involved with this project.”
