The Cancer Lie

The Cancer Lie

My name is Kimmie and I am wearing the bravest earrings in the world.  But as cool as I think my earrings look, I stumble onto the bus.  I see many pairs of unfamiliar and mostly tired eyes.  Who are you? What do you want? The bowl of mushy cornflakes I barely touched sloshes in my nervous stomach. 

I used to always feel anxious but more so the first day.  I was too excited about the classes, a new teacher, the smell of fresh text books (the cracking of their spines for the first time) and the wishful thinking that maybe I’d make some friends.  All I can think about is will Soccer Boy recognize me?  How long are we staying?  How long do I have to pretend to be somebody I’m not?

I enter a concrete block fortress two stories high.  I don’t know where anything is and there are people everywhere flowing around me; I am a rock in a fast moving river.

My first day at Denman is like Ocala.  It is like Atlanta.  It is even like Boulder too.  There’s a system.  You only need to know where you’re going.  Move when the bell rings.  Shuffle back shuffle forth.

Where is Chemistry?  First floor, two doors down past the library.  No, who told you that.  That’s all wrong.  Second left, next to the band room.  Get a map.

Right.  Pretend you are just like them, another lemming in the flow and you know all the moves. 

So far I haven’t crossed paths with Soccer Boy.  Good Move.

“What’s your name?”  They ask.

“Kimmie,” I say.

“That your real hair?”

I can almost taste the blood from my heart racing.  The girl that asks isn’t muscular like Big Sister.  She’s a tiny thing.  But what she has is attitude.  I watch her edge closer.

“Cancer.”  The word pops out of my mouth.  Poof, the girl backs away clutching her books.  Now I am Kimmie here.