AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Maribel hopped down from the branch with catlike grace. Two other girls had been sitting under the tree. Now they all came toward Dora.
“So how are you liking it here?” Maribel looked her up and down. “Are you enjoying your time as Professor Robinson’s service sub?”
Something in her tone made Dora nervous, but she pushed the suspicion aside. In her last therapy session, Dr. Weston had told her to see people not through the lens of how she thought they’d treat her, but through a less defensive one.
She nodded. “I am. He’s a lot of fun to work for.”
“Fun?” Maribel looked at her companions, who snickered. “If hauling papers around for that stuffed shirt is fun, I’d hate to see your idea of what a miserable day would be like.”
“People can like different things,” Dora replied.
“You’re right, of course.” Maribel tossed her hair back. “For instance, some of us like running and playing and climbing trees while others like eating Oreos by the pound and then having uniforms special made because nothing in the store fits them.”
A wave of numbness coursed through Dora’s body. “I have to go,” she murmured, but Maribel grabbed her.
“Go where?” She tugged Dora’s arm so hard her hand came out of the pocket. The sticker, still in her grasp, fluttered to the ground. When she tried to grab it, Maribel got it first.
“I was a brave girl,” she said dramatically. She waved the sticker around in the air, snatching it out of reach as Dora reached for it. Behind her, the other girls laughed.
Flashbacks of childhood pain long suppressed came flooding back, triggered by the cruelty. Tears blurred Dora’s vision.
“Give it back. I need it.”
“For what?” Maribel asked. “It’s just a stupid sticker!” She tore it in half.
“It’s not. Professor Robinson told me to bring it to him.” Dora gasped, upset with herself for telling her secret to Maribel.
“Professor Robinson. Why on earth would he want your sticker. You’re lying.”
Dora looked around helplessly. There was no one within shouting distance. She turned back to Maribel. “It’s none of your business why he wanted it.”
“Fine,” Maribel said, moving aside. “Pick it up then. If he wants it so bad, he can tape it back together.”
Dora moved to pick up the pieces, but only got a couple of feet when she found herself tripping over a foot placed in her path. She fell heavily to the ground and as soon as she did, Maribel screamed, “Earthquake!” and she and the other girls began to whirl about before collapsing in peals of mean-spirited laughter.
Dora could not contain the bubble of hurt that burst in her chest, pushing out a strangled sob. She got to her feet, the two halves of the sticker in her hand. As she staggered away, Maribel ran up and blocked her way.
“That’s what you get for interrupting yesterday,” she said. “Don’t you do it again. Alastair is playing hard to get with me, and the last thing I need is some cow mooning over him.” She stepped so close to Dora that she could smell the spearmint gum on her breath. “Tell anyone about this and we’ll make things worse, got that?”
Dora was shaking, the magical feeling of the day replaced by the heaviness of depression. Rawhide Ranch no longer seemed welcoming but as dangerous as the emotional minefields of her youth. But what did she expect? Leaving childhood meant abandoning not just the protection of being little, but also the cruel behaviors that, in retrospect, most adults were ashamed of. It only made sense that good people returning to childhood would be like Bobbi and bad people returning to childhood would be like Maribel.
How many times in her school days had she been tripped, punched, and pushed by kids who called her fat? When Dora was in sixth grade, she’d been thrilled to get an invitation to the birthday party of the most popular girl in her class. Two days before the party, two boys cornered her in the school stairwell and told her they had a message from the birthday girl: the only reason Dora had been invited was because her mother had made her invite everyone, but if Dora showed up, they’d punch her in the face.
“No fat girls allowed,” one of the boys said.
She hadn’t gone to the party.
Part of her wanted to run to Dr. Weston or Master Derek or Alastair Robinson or any other authority who would make this right. Rationally she knew there were rules here, but her Little girl mind told her there would be consequences if she tattled, that underneath the façade of acceptance there was a secret culture that would punish her.
Outside the lodge, she sat on the steps and held the two halves of the sticker together.I was a brave girl. But she wasn’t. She was scared to make waves or rock the boat. Where else would she go if this went badly? She put the halves of the sticker in her pocket and ran to her room, where she cried in the shower until no more tears would come.
Chapter 8
As Alastair’s students had fidgeted in their seats, it had occurred to him that no one in the class was more eager for the end-of-day bell than he was. Dora had been on his mind all day to the point that he’d repeated himself during the lesson, much to the amusement of his students.
“Something got you flustered?” Maribel had asked. The satisfied grin on her face made him suspect she’d revised the previous day’s events in her mind and was now convinced that she was the distraction. It was just more evidence of how little she knew about him. Even before his transition he never went for the promiscuous or pushy girls. It wasn’t because he was judging them; Alastair knew there were all kinds of sexual expression, but he was attracted to sweet softness, and found Dora more exciting clothed than a bare-bottomed Maribel.
He'd not dignified Maribel with a response, and after class when she tried loitering around the classroom to get him alone, he told her he wanted her out. Her eyes had narrowed in anger, but then she’d regained her composure.
