The Natural History of Us (The Fine Art of Pretending #2)(6)
The heady scent of fresh ink and warm paper hit my nose and my excitement skyrocketed. Nausea, too… but mostly excitement. The spicy tang of peppermint joined the mix a second later and I eagerly bounced in my loafers.
When the office door closed with a bump, sealing out the sound of hallway chaos, students sitting in the row of cushioned chairs along the wall raised their heads. Most immediately dismissed me upon appraisal, but a few glanced curiously between Dad and me. Guess I should get used to that.
I followed Dad toward the taupe laminate desk, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides. I had no room for fear in my life. I could do this. I wanted to do this. Beyond the divide, teachers and administrators buzzed about, flitting from mailboxes to the enormous copy machine, reminding me of happy worker bees. Phones rang, people laughed, and somewhere in the chaotic room, a radio played soft jazz. Dad checked his watch and then tapped his knuckles against the laminate, waiting for help, and I closed my eyes to let the frantic energy envelop me.
Here’s the thing about GBS (Guillain-Barre Syndrome): it hits you fast and furious. One day, I’d been riding Oakley at the Tomball Junior Rodeo, and the next, I’d become a prisoner in my own body. For weeks, I hadn’t been able to talk or move. I couldn’t even scream. Nurses and doctors had flowed in and out of my room, checking vitals and talking as if I weren’t even there. Guests had stared with poorly hidden fear, holding awkward conversations with my parents about the weather and Texas football. Running home after they left to hug their kids and thank God this hadn’t happened to them. I’d been nothing but a silent observer as life happened around me and without me. But those days were over. Now, I could walk, I could talk, and I was on my way to becoming a fully functional member of society again.
It felt phenomenal.
Opening my eyes, I released a breath and propped my elbows on the counter next to Dad. I nodded at a few teachers I recognized from our holiday parties and when the principal stepped out of her office to answer a question, I waved and said hello.
“Peyton!” Ms. Gouvas leaned against the doorframe with a warm smile, and from the corner of my eye, I noticed a few students turn their heads. “I’m glad you’re finally joining us.”
“I’m so excited to be here,” I replied, no doubt sounding dorkalicious to the eavesdropping students, but I really was excited. So sue me. “Took me longer than I’d hoped, but I’m ready to jump in the fray.”
The edges of the principal’s smile turned down a bit, a reminder that I wouldn’t be jumping anywhere for a while, and we both knew it. “Well, I’m confident you’ll make the best of your years here, Peyton.” She straightened away from the wall and pointed at me. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
After shooting me a playful wink, she ducked back into her office, and only then did I chance a full glance behind me. As predicted, practically the entire row was watching, a multitude of expressions on their faces. None of them were impressed.
Is being on a semi-first name basis with the principal really that weird?
A blonde who appeared to be around my age snickered quietly.
Yep, it was weird.
“Ah, Dan.” A petite woman with long, dark hair and a bright red blouse dropped an overstuffed file folder onto the desk. She blew her bangs off her face and asked my dad, “How are you this crazy morning?”
“Better than I deserve,” he replied like always. “But I was hoping you could do me a favor, Kim. Today is Peyton’s first day, and I’m running late for a staff meeting. You think you can help her get situated?”
“Of course, it’d be my pleasure,” she replied with a reassuring smile, proving that Big Bad Coach Man wasn’t fooling anyone. When it came to his baby girl, the man was a teddy bear. “You go along to your meeting now. Peyton here will be in great hands.”
Even with that assurance, I could tell he was reluctant. Interesting factoid about getting sick? It de-ages you like ten years in your parents’ eyes. Sighing, I wrapped my arms around Dad’s stocky body and pressed a kiss to his clean-shaven cheek.
“I’ll be fine,” I told him, not caring if the other kids were watching. This was my dad, we were close, and if they had a problem with that, well, they could suck it. “I’ll find you in the gym after school.” When he continued to hesitate, I shoved his meaty shoulder with a laugh. “Go on. Go!”
With a grumble, he finally relented, and my too-wide smile held just until he’d disappeared around the corner. A nervous exhale parted my lips and when I turned around, the woman behind the counter put her hand on mine.
“My younger sister was hospitalized for a month when we were kids.”
I shifted on my feet, not sure what to say to that, and she pressed on. “It was pneumonia in her case, but I understand how annoying it is for everyone to treat you with kid gloves like you’re helpless. You’re not. I know that, and your dad will come around soon enough. As far as I’m concerned though, you’re just another student, all right?”
Heart full, chest shockingly light as if the weight of a boulder had suddenly been lifted, I sent her a grateful smile. That’s all I wanted to be. Normal. “Thank you.”
She squeezed my hand as a fierce mama bird look entered her eyes. “But if anyone thinks otherwise and messes with you, you just let me know, all right?”