Expectations

Shift to the left foot then the right, kick a pebble boredly. Listen for the grinding of that annoying diesel engine. Tilt head up, straighten lips, shift stance again. 

It takes a lot of concentration to control the nuances of another person. All of the little ticks that are supposed to come naturally are suddenly as complex as a well-woven spider web. Something even more complicated was the fact that I was controlling my own nuances at the time. 

As the clumsy yellow bus approached the curb I was standing on, my eyes grazed the dull faces of the passengers, each one for a microsecond as an unspoken etiquette dictated. The screech of the breaks signaled another slight change in my demeanor as I turned to the door and waited for it to open. 

The two glass paneled doors opened to reveal a portly middle aged woman with a baseball cap. She gave me a curt nod and I mirrored the action as I stepped onto the metal steps. I turned left towards the aisle and my eyes grazed the passengers once more, in turn, some of their eyes also fell upon me, but no longer than a couple seconds. None of them were particularly willing to make me feel welcome in fear of actually having to make an acquaintance so early in the morning. Although, such things work to my advantage. If I was to get away with this, I had to be invisible. 

I slid my book bag off my right shoulder as I sat on the empty faux leather bench in the first row. I barely had time to sit down when the bus driver suddenly hit the gas. The sudden turns she made forced me to plant my foot around the leg of the bench for balance. I sighed in mild annoyance and placed my book bag in my lap as I turned to look out the window, making a conscious effort to look calm and average. 

I pulled out my phone and began to review the notes and reminders that I left for myself. Reviewing my reminders would not only help me throughout my day, but it helped me look like every other teen on the bus, occupied. 

After exiting the exhaust fume ridden box, I went to the school office and put on a lost persona. Rapid eye movements, look at posters, glance everywhere but the secretary until your turn, heel, toe, heel, toe, back and forth, sigh slightly exasperated, approach desk, soft smile. 

“Hi, my name is Kayla, I’m new and I just wanted to make sure my papers were sent in.” I stated meekly. 

“Ok, sweetie, what’s your last name?” She asked me, her pearl and rose gold necklaces moving along with her swift movements over the keyboard. 

“It’s….” I grasped my lower stomach and lurched over a bit. “Um… can I use the restroom? I’m having girl issues.” I added the last sentence to evoke sympathy so she’d be more willing to let me use the closest restroom. 

“Yes, of course, hun. The restroom is down the hall, next to the nurses office.” She directed me. 

It’s also close to the records office, I noted to myself as I gave her a grateful smile and headed towards the restroom. I locked the large wooden door upon entering and leaned on the sink. Looking into my faux blue eyes, I repeated my reminders softly. 

“My name is Kayla Briar, I’m new and my records are still being processed.” I repeated softly as I counted the seconds until it was appropriate to exit the office restroom.

I may not have needed the blue contacts, but it’s fun to look into different eyes at each school. I smiled to myself as I opened the large door and peeked out. The secretary was busy so I just slipped into the records office and shut the door. 

I picked up the ‘sick day log’ file, which was conveniently on a side table, and flipped to the correct date. I always like to choose a class with a substitute teacher, it made it easier for me to convince them that I belonged there. After memorizing the room number of the class I wanted, I slipped out of the records office and walked back to the secretary with an embarrassed smile. 

“Thank you so much and um, my dad just texted me and said he got an email that my records were transferred so you don’t have to look for them.” I said in a flustered tone. 

“M’kay, welcome to Middleton High school.” She said with a smile. “And it’s all gonna be fine, girlie.” She assured me, referring to my ‘girl issues’ cover. 

“Thanks,” I said as I readjusted my bag and walked out of the office into the hallway. 

I kept my eyes on my shoes shyly as I blended with the crowd in the hallway. Room 157, room 157, I reminded myself. 

There it is, ok… I’m new, my records are still being sent, I thought to myself as I walked into the doorway. I skimmed my eyes over the classroom, assessing the general mood of the room.

Act nervous, shuffle feet slightly, wait for someone to notice. 

“Can I help you?” The substitute teacher asked me. 

He looked to be fresh out of college and a bit eager for the approval of his temporary students. Quite convenient. 

“Um… yeah. I’m Kayla, I’m the new student.” I stated slightly questioningly. I wanted to seem nervous and unsure. 

“I don’t see you on the schedule.” He said, looking over the clipboard in his hand.

“My records were delayed and they’re sorting that out, so I dunno.” I said, my posture open and honest. 

“‘Kay then.” He said, walking back to his desk.

I silently followed, looking through my brown hair at the other students, they were talking at a low volume as they got settled in. The sub walked around to the front of his desk and clapped his hands together. 

“Okay, we have a new student today.” He said cheerfully. “This is….” 

I cleared my throat before answering softly, “Kayla Briar.” 

“This is Kayla and, if you don’t already know, I’m Mr. Tucker.” Mr. Tucker said. 

I nodded with an awkward tight lipped smile as I awaited further directions from him. I rocked back and forth gently as the teacher's eyes roved around for an empty desk. 

“Ah, there.” He said, pointing to an empty desk, at which I promptly made my way towards. 

Sitting down, I began to celebrate my quiet victory. I had officially infiltrated 270 schools, taking on a new disguise each time. 

Once I have enough information on these people, I will finally be able to return to my own planet.