Perfect Imperfections

I jolted awake, the nightmares clinging to me. Not the kind you forget. The kind that follows you through school hallways— where everyone knows your name, but not who you are. I grabbed my glasses, blinking the sleep out of my eyes. The clock resting on my nightstand read “7:05”. I never set alarms, and I don’t know why. My brain just naturally wakes me up. I cringed, thinking of the long school day ahead of me. School isn’t hard for me; that’s the problem. It’s making friends that I’m bad at. On my first day of sixth grade, I tried sitting next to a girl during lunch. 

“Uh, what do you think you’re doing?” she had asked, looking at me like I had just sprouted an extra ear.

I got the hint and started walking away. She started whispering to her friend.

”Why was that freak trying to sit at our table?”

When she said that, I had to pretend not to hear.

I moved robotically, walking down the stairs rigidly.

“Good morning Ella!” my mom exclaimed.

Mornings are supposed to be ‘good’, which is funny; nothing good has ever happened to me before 8:00 AM.

“Hi Mom, what’s for breakfast?”

“Eggs and hash browns,” she replied in a singsong voice.

I dug in, trying to enjoy my food. I could say it was delicious, but that wasn’t the truth. I don’t know if it was because of my dread or because of my mom’s cooking. The hash browns tasted like sand. Quickly, I excused myself, assuring my mom I was full. I ran upstairs to get ready. I felt like an ice cube was slowly expanding inside me, its frigid cold surface chilling my bones one by one. I packed my bag, double-checking to make sure I had everything. Satisfied with my packing, I ventured into my parents’ room. As always, my dad was still sleeping. I gently shook him awake. His eyes opened ever so slightly. “You’re taking me to school, right?” I asked.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Sure, just give me five minutes honey.”

”I’ll be waiting in the car.”

The groan of the garage door opening reflected my reluctance to go to school. I hate them. All those kids that hate me when they don’t even know me. I’m just the smart girl who every teacher loves. But was that really my fault? Do I really ever do anything special for my teachers? I got into the passenger seat, hugging my backpack to my chest.

My dad stationed himself into the driver’s seat, smelling of his peppermint hand soap. “El, are you okay? You seem a little down.” Worry radiated from his eyes, a small crease wrinkling on his forehead.

I forced a fake smile, my heart splintering. Sometimes Dad can just read my mind. I thought. “It’s just that I have a math test today,” I lied.

”Oh honey, don’t you worry one bit. You always do great on your math tests! Just try your best. How about after school we go to the gas station for an Icee?” he squeezed my hand, smiling.

I nodded, still smiling. The car ride was silent, only interrupted by my dad’s occasional coughing fits. I’ve always wanted to tell him that he should quit smoking, but I could never muster enough courage.

We pulled into the parking lot five minutes early. As I opened the car door, my father called, “Have a good day El!”

“Bye,” I replied. I forced myself to walk through the gates, gritting my teeth and bracing myself for the inevitable torture to come. Flurries of older kids chattered around the quad. I spotted Becca from a distance doing… I don’t know what. Hopefully she was too preoccupied to notice me. Just in case, I decided to veer away from her and towards my first period class. I thought I was in the clear until I glanced over my shoulder and saw a monstrous face: Becca. She was closing in fast. My palms were slick with sweat. Still, turning to face her seemed like the most logical thing to do. “What do you want, Becca?” I spat, focusing on her blonde eyebrows.

“Oh, I just wanted to see if you knew where you were going, like girl, those lenses are so thick! How do you see through those things!” She gestured to my glasses.

”If I were you I would worry about yourself. You know, I’m not the one who’s failing math,” I replied sweetly. All of Becca’s friends started laughing. Becca’s face turned bright red. I thought she might try to tackle me. Thankfully, I was saved by the bell.

Of course, all my classes were a breeze. Once, I overheard my math teacher bragging to another teacher, “Ella is able to understand high school math already!”

Then came lunch. I walked into the bathroom. Only two more hours of school to go. Suddenly, I heard a quiet sniff. I listened carefully. Another sniff. I slowly started forward. A door sprang open. A girl with bloodshot eyes walked out of the stall. She looked up at my face. Our eyes locked. Shock pulsed through my body. “Becca? What happened?”

”I don’t want to talk about it.” She wiped a tear from her cheek.

“Well, I’m here to talk if you need anything.”

She trudged out, keeping her head down. Now that was even more unusual. That girl loved to raise her nose in the air. I never told her, but it made her look like a pig chasing a carrot.

I sat down, looking forward to getting my math test back. We’d taken it last week and Mrs. Parkin had finally graded it. I glanced across the classroom and spotted Becca. She’d managed to regain her composure, but she didn’t have that same snobbish look as before.

“Okay class, as most of you know, I have graded your math tests. When I call your name, come up and take it from my desk,” Mrs. Parkin shouted through the noisy room. “Ella, Danielle, Kayla, Remi…”

I weaved through the mess of tables and chairs to get to the front of the classroom. I spotted my paper and the giant 20/20 on top. I grinned. I had a feeling that Mrs. Parkin stopped grading my tests towards the middle of the year and just started giving me perfect scores.

I began to walk away, but Mrs. Parkin called me back.

Uh oh. This couldn’t be good.

“Ella, is there any chance that you would be able to tutor Becca on the past unit during study hall? I thought that maybe she would understand better if one of her peers were to teach her.”

I froze. Tutoring Becca? Mrs. Parkin’s tone suggested that I didn’t have much choice. “Uh, sure, but what will my teacher say?” I squeaked, my voice much more high pitched than usual.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already contacted both of your English teachers and the librarian. I got you special permission to use the library for your tutoring sessions.”

”Does Becca know already?”

”No, but I’ll tell her now. Would you mind getting her?”

Horror settled over me. She was not going to be happy about this. Shakily. I walked towards her, trying my best not to trip over the backpacks scattered across the floor. I approached her seat, and as always, Becca was chatting with the person next to her. “Mrs. Parkin wants to see you,” I said.

“Would you mind? We were having a conversation here,” the girl next to her said, rolling her eyes.

I walked back to my seat, pondering ways to get out of being a tutor.

The library was completely silent, almost seeming eerie. I sat at a table in the corner, waiting. Shelves were completely filled with books, their covers gleaming in the cool lighting. Suddenly, the door swung open. Scowling, Becca walked in, dragging her bag across the floor. I stood, awkwardly rearranging my supplies. I looked up as she plunked down in her seat.

“Okay, let’s start out with an easy problem. If x plus four is equal to two x minus four, what does x equal?”

”I don’t know.”

”Okay let’s go over the basics. If there is an x amount of ants and a y amount of spiders, how many bugs are there altogether?”

“Z?”

This is going to be a long thirty minutes.

As soon as school ended, I sprinted towards the parking lot. Parked right up front was my family’s car. As I opened the door, I was greeted with my mom’s face. Huh? “Where’s Dad? I was supposed to go to the gas station with him after school.”

”Sorry honey, something came up at your dad’s work.”

Mom didn’t ask me how my day was like she usually did. What was happening today?