The Decision iii

I flinched. I was late. Panic twisted in my gut. I clutched my papers to my chest and looked around. Nothing looked the same. The school had changed- walls painted, new colors, rooms reshuffled, halls renamed. My memory from freshman was useless now. I turned a corner, then backtracked. Every classroom number felt out of order. By the time I finally spotted the right room number -3B- my palms were slick with sweat, and my heart had already sunk to the pit of my stomach.

I cracked the classroom door open as I slipped inside, trying to make myself invisible. My hands were trembling slightly as I clutched my books to my chest. I hope- prayed- no one would say anything. But as soon as I stepped through the threshold, the room quieted. Just slightly. Enough for me to feel it. Eyes flicked towards me. Some didn't bother hiding their stares. Then my eyes flew to a particular person, Tasha. Oh no. Why did I have to be in the same class as her. As if that was not enough Charlote was sitting nearby, the last gang member of the BGW. In the front, sitting next to Tasha. Seated like they owned the place. I searched for the influencial devil, but she wasn't there, thank God but her shadows were.

There were only three empty chairs left. The tables were joined together to seat in pairs. The first empty seats were in the first row at the back of the class; there was no one sitting on the two joined tables. The third seat was in the middle row, one chair ocuppied by a red- haired guy. Without thinking twice, I rushed to settle there to avoid being stared at only for the guy to shoove the empty chair with his foot, his body language sharp and unmistakable. He didn't look at me, but his message was clear. 'dont sit here'. And the whole classroom busted in laughter. The rejection burned against my skin. I swallowed hard and turned away. Embarrassed, I walked towards the alone, Isolated chairs and sat down, my scarf still in place. I carefully arranged my books on the desk.

The teacher, Ms. Reeves, wasn't old, and she wasn't young either. I didn't know her, but you could tell from the way she looks and dresses. Her beauty wasnt loud not artificial either, her skin soft and warm bronze glow. She had style that was not flashy or trendy but timeless. She wore a blouse that was navy and a gold pendant with black pants that fitted her perfectly, exposing a little of her body shape. Ms. Reeves had a presence. An aura that you don't just notice but also feel.

"You must be the new addition," Ms. Reeves said dryly, adjusting her glasses like she needed a second look. "What's your name."

My voice caught in my throat. I managed to whisper, but raising my voice a little bit so she can hear me because I was sitting in the back. "...A.. Ark."

Ms. Reeves tilted her head, stepping away from the whiteboard. "Speak up."

"Ark," I repeated, a little louder than before. My voice cracked.

"What a weird name," someone said in the class and everyone laughed.

Tasha learned over to whisper something over to Charlote. Charlote turned her face to look at me and shoved me an evil smirk.

Charlote is blunt, dry and less talkative gang member. She is the one with less word but more action. The most scared of in school. She has that piercing aura in her. That I still don't get even now. I heard that her mother is an influencer that left her dad for a rich guy. Sorry for the gossip but I think that says alot about her. He father is a developing boxing couch. She lives with her uncle, which is her mother's brother. And rumor has it that her uncle got his wealth from bribing and killing people. Her uncle is known for making things, people or problems disappear just like that. Charlote is tall and thin, with model- like frame. She has jet- black hair, straight. Skin pale with cool undertone and she wore bold eyeliner that made her grey eyes look colder than they already were. She rarely smiled, but when she did, it was usually sarcastic just like now. She had a sharp jawline, thin lips and a narrow nose.

"Why's her face wrapped like that? Is she going to rob a bank," Tasha blunted.

Like I expected that. That smirk was really about this. Ms. Reeves didn't shut them down. In fact, her eyes lingered on me, then narrowed. "Ark, remove the scarf."

That caught me in suprise, didn't mom explain this to them, shouldn't they know my condition by now. My chest tightened.

"I... I'd rather not."

"Classroom policy is that no headwear or face coverings excerpt religious reasons," Ms. Reeves said, arms folding. "Are you claiming a religious exemption?"

The whole class shifted. Whispering. Watching.

"No," I whispered.

"Then remove it," she snapped.

"She probably thinks she's special," Tasha said, fake coughing into her hand. "What's she hiding under there, a third eye?"

Laughter rippled across the classroom. I stood frozen. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. I could feel sweat breaking along my spine.

"She should at least introduce herself properly." Tasha chimed sweetly. " If she's going to be in our class." The same devil that spoke nonsense right now is talking about introducing. Oh, how corning does Tasha think she is.

"Yeah," someone replied. "Show us your face. It's rude otherwise."

Ms. Reeves looked at me like she was waiting-dairing me. I shook my head, voice barely audible. "I'm not ready."

"Then if you're not ready you are disturbing the class. Kindly leave the classroom, you can come when you're ready."

I nearly collapsed into the floor, eyes burning. The laughter was getting worse, some were whispers. I gripped the edge of my table, nails digging into the wood, and I stared at it until the lines were audible.

"What're you waiting for?"

Just when I was about to stand up, a sharp knock on the door. Three precise tabs. The room went silent. The door creaked open and in stepped a man with an almost bald scalp, with little hair on the each side of his head, Principal Darien Vale. He whispered something into Ms. Reeves ear, and she twitched her eyes to look at me shaking her head.

His belly curve softly beneath his neatly pressed white shirt. His jacket unbuttoned and navy blue. His little, graying hair was combed neatly.

"Good morning class," he said, voice steady, calm but sharp. "Ms. Reeves, may I interrupt?"

The teacher blinked. "Principal Vale, I-"

He politely raised his hand to command the teacher to stop talking and looked to me.

"I'm here to clarify something. Miss Wrenley is permitted to wear a scarf or any facial covering. That permission comes from me. There is no need for questions. That is her choice, and her right. Anyone who challenges that, will be speaking to me directly," he added, looking at the teacher.

Tasha's hand twitched as if she wanted to comment. He raised his brows.

"I would keep those hands and questions to myself."

He walked towards the door, he turned and added, "I expect this classroom to be a place of learning. Not judgement."

With that, he left, the door closed clicking shut behind him. The silence he left behind wasn't heavy with fear- but awareness. And a silver of protection I didn't know I needed until it was given.