"Catgirl"

Mrs. Keen has decided that—while I am tone deaf and have a tendency to sing flat (whatever that means)—I am an alto. This is a wonderful thing as I don’t have to sit next to the gaggle of yappy sopranos and can be left alone: one of a small handful of girls camouflaged nicely among a predominately male section of the chorus.


“One, two, three, everybody look at me.” Mrs. Keen claps her hands. She is Glinda from Wizard of Oz without the sparkly tiara. The woman’s been sleeping in a poppy field for way too long. A person can’t look at her without thinking of sugar plum fairies and giant bean stalks. Mom would love Mrs. Keen. “It gives me great pleasure to announce our first musical piece of the year. Drum-roll, please?” she asks but it is a question only for her to answer. She rolls her tongue and beats the air with her tiny fists. “Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You.” She claps her hands. She is the only one clapping.


“Awesome,” says the boy beside me. He has green eyes and dark, fine curls just begging my fingers to run through. I smile and nod because it is something to do, because I am all green lights with this male god of beauty. He nods back and gives me a wide grin that tells me we understand each other. Only I don’t even know what he said. Language and reason has left my suddenly airy head.


“Mrs. Keen raises her painted on eyebrows as a pocket of students murmur a half-hearted acknowledgement. Only the god of beauty is excited by this news and gives me a thumb’s up. I have just died and Mrs. Keen’s chorus class is my Heaven.


The bell rings and the god of beauty gets up from his desk and walks over to me. “Hey, I’m Anthony.” He extends his hand (I am grateful to note, it is bigger than mine—the way it’s supposed to be.) and I shake it. “Amelia.” My cheeks are like giant cherries but I don’t mind at all—with my pasty complexion, a little embarrassment can be flattering for me.


“Anthony, come on. We’re gonna’ be late.” A girl whines by the chorus door. It is the small girl with the fine china face. But there is nothing delicate about the way she stares at me. She is an alley cat ready to claw.


“I better go.” Anthony smiles from one corner of his mouth. It cannot be a full smile with the alley cat mewing at him.


“Yeah, I don’t want to keep you and your girlfriend.” My heart is hammering in my chest. I am the living incarnation of chutzpah.


“Oh, she’s not my girlfriend.” He shakes his head and looks at me like I’ve just suggested he drink urine—excellent.


“Anthony!” Catgirl fumes.


“See ya.” He says and waves goodbye. Wait!! Is she your sister? Your cousin? Your lab partner? Your psychiatric charity case for the week?


Catgirl whispers something to Anthony and he walks through the door ahead of her. She puts a scrawny arm out. She means it to block my path. It is like having a mouse for a bouncer.


“You listen to me Big Bird. You stay away from Anthony.” There should be smoke coming out of her nose and ears.


“Who the hell are you, his mother?”


“Oh, I’m much more than that and I’m warning you.”


I pick up her arm. It is a feather in my hand. “I’ll try to remember that.” I say with crossed-eyes and flip-flop her reedy arm all over. A few girls giggle from behind me. And then there is a sharp pinch at my side. It is cat girl’s free hand, her manicured nails digging into my flesh.


“Good girl.” I raise my hand to slap her. “We wouldn’t want you getting any more detention now would we?” I slowly remove her arm and she smiles. “I’m coming, Anthony.”


Tears prick the back of my eyes as I fight to pretend that I am more annoyed than hurt. When I head out to the cafeteria, Seth is standing at the base of the stairs, a giant smile on his perfectly symmetrical features. He waves to me and the urge to cry begins to subside; the fact that he wants to date Meeka instead of me doesn’t sting as much.


It is while I’m on my way to Seth that I see Anthony. He is sitting next to Catgirl who is too busy fishing in her backpack for something to notice me. Anthony waves to me and rolls his eyes at Catgirl’s back. Those dreamy green eyes tell me that I matter and that Catgirl is more a nuisance than a threat.


I am determined to keep mattering to Anthony.