“I’ll make sure she gets there all right.” Seraphina isn’t at all fazed by my antics. That is why she is the principal of this school.
Outside in the hall, I let the door slowly snick shut before blowing out a coffee scented breath. That could have gone better.
My boots squeak on the tile as I make my way out of the hall and back to the staircase. The elevator looms beside me like a specter, sending a chill up my spine, but it’s that adrenaline spike I needed to pull me out of the weird feelings I’ve been having about being here.
I feel like I’ve crash-landed on another planet and everyone is kind, nice, and somehow looking out for you. That’s what life should be like. Yet I grew up in a city, and while there were people to look out for you, it wasn’t like this.
I should just accept the help. It isn’t easy, and it isn’t like any other adventure we’ve had before. Those previous escapades involved a spontaneous trip to the beach, or a drive along a mountain range where we found a spring to dive in. Those are adventures. Getting stranded in a random town where we haveto somehow find a place to exist for a temporary time frame isn’t an adventure, nor is it an extended vacation.
It’s the result of circumstances out of our control.
I push through the backdoors of the school and stumble out into an alleyway that leads to a small parking lot and a basketball court with a smaller building off to the side.
Taking giant gulps of air, I steady myself, holding my bruised chin out and marching to the library. Finding the sidewalk once more, I walk around the building to the glass windowed front.
All the lights are off, and I’m just about to pull out the card to call this Ms. Aberdeen when the aroma of coffee wafts to me like a signal. Using my sniffer, I scent out the deliciousness and find an open window.
I bound up the front steps, only to find them locked.
But there’s coffee.
Which means there must be people.
Rushing back down the steps, I stroll onto the grass and over to one of the open side windows. The bitter scent strengthens, and I peek through the window to find a little old lady with a graying bun on her head and glasses slipping down her nose as she sips a cup of coffee.
I blame what happens next entirely on the events of the last twenty-four hours. I can even blame it on the fact I actually hit my head on a moose stone. All of it is true.
I tap on the window. “Ms. Aberdeen?” The small woman doesn’t notice me. Her eyes stray to the wall, where I can just make out a television.
I will not let this deter me.
Glancing around, I hunt for something to stand on and find a hidden cinder block that I drag behind the bushes and topple over so I can step on its vertical edge.
Now, I’m not the most balanced person in the world, but it doesn’t mean I don’t try to pretend I’m an acrobat. We all have dreams, right?
I step on the cement block and tap on the window again. “Ms. Aberdeen?”
She still doesn’t turn her head. What is she watching that’s so intriguing? I can’t even hear anything.
Tomorrow, I’ll regret my actions. I know the cement block was a bit of a mistake as well, but the other mistake I made was forgetting where I was.
I slide the window up, and using all my Pilates training, I toss myself through the window, where the glass promptly slides down and squishes me.
And this woman still doesn’t look at me.
Now I’m stuck in a window while the coffee pot taunts me with liquid heaven and no one pays attention to me.
At least now I can see what she’s watching, and I am not impressed. How is MTV still in business?
“Jersey Shore? Are you serious?” I exclaim, trying to catch my breath as I flail my legs and arms, my abs keeping me in place.
That gets her attention.
The tiny little woman turns her head slowly like she’s possessed, and she sips her coffee as though this is an everyday occurrence.
It isn’t. Not even for me.
“It’s like a train wreck I just can’t stop watching,” she remarks, utterly serious, and yet she still makes no move to rescue me.
