The Different Girl
written by Lizzie Scamander
Nora - a lonely girl in a lonely world. A different girl. And is someone following her around? And does the strange boy who refuses to reveal much know what's going on? Or will she stay in the dark - forever? If you like this, please message me or post on my wall, with additional feedback, as this helps improve my writing to know what people think!
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
2
Reads
742
Part One
Chapter 1
Some people are normal. Some people are lucky like that. It's just too bad I'm not. If you are a normal person you may not comprehend what I mean. However, it's true - indisputably true. I guess I should be grateful for my physical features - they're ordinary enough. Grey eyes, a defiant mouth, definitely not perfunctory. My hair is a bit long - almost at my knees, but I usually have it plaited and tied up. The length of my hair is easy to hide. But not how I am.
I don't just mean my personality and stuff - my introvert nature, reluctance to socialize, etc., but my abilities. To make it basic, I'll tell it simply and outright. I can run round the block in five seconds. These abnormal capacities stretch even more - I can jump up to the top of a twenty foot high tree, I can swim the length of a beach within the time of a minute. And when I try to keep this kind of thing hidden, I can't. It's impossible. Maybe for an hour or so, but then I have to release it, secretly, discreetly. Because I don't want the public to think mistrustfully of me.
And then dad makes things worse. Always, it seems. Except he's not my real dad. Neither is my mum. They're my foster parents. And everything about them is perfect, unlike me. Mum's got blonde, wavy tresses, blue, sparkling eyes, and long, dark lashes. Dad's tall and stately, and everyone respects him. Dad's always protesting to what weird stuff I do, telling me to control myself and stuff like that. Mum's more empathetic, but it doesn't make a difference. I know she doesn't like what I do.
But when something's natural, it can't be stopped.
"Nora! Get up now!"
I muttered an inaudible protest, and reluctantly departed from the warmth of my blankets. I peered at my clock. Quarter to seven. I had long since declined to set an alarm, as dad's voice was always getting people up on week-day mornings. I yawned, and sleepily dressed, in my school uniform. As I hastily brushed my hair dad yelled again:
"Nora, hurry up!"
I quickly tied my hair back in a long ponytail and rushed downstairs. Dad was grabbing his keys as he contemplated my appearance. I entered the kitchen and was handed a piece of toast by mum. "I have a work exam today," she said.
I simply nodded, mouth full, frowning slightly at the taste and texture of the food. Hard. Burnt. And the peanut butter that had been smeared on must be off. None of my parents like or are good at cooking. Breakfast and lunch are always uncomfortable affairs, and dinner is usually takeaways. I swallowed, and murmured a brief good-bye to mum. I knew she would be glad to have dad and I out of the house.
"Nora, into the car."
"Coming dad," I said, stuffing the rest of my toast into my mouth before seizing my backpack and accepting the plastic container containing my lunch from mum. I heard the rumble of the car engine, and hopped in. Slipping my seat belt on I was quiet as we drove up the driveway and onto the street. Conversation in the car was rare for dad and I, even though he took me to school on his way to work every week-day. However, today I was surprised.
"Nora," dad said, turning the steering-wheel to the right as he pulled onto the main road. "Look, I was thinking..." He hesitated. "I was thinking about your... Let's say, capabilities."
I averted my eyes. "Why?" I asked simply.
"Because... Because I was considering consulting a pyschologist."
"Really?"
"Come on, Nora, you can't deny you're - well - different."
I noticed he inflicted particular emphasis on the last word.
"I guess," I replied, biting my lip.
"Not speaking against you, of course," dad added hastily. "It's just -"
"I'll think about it," I replied. I didn't intend for my voice to sound snappish, but it did. Dad fell silent. He was silent during the complete rest of the drive, and didn't even say good-bye as I waved absently. Then I turned toward school.
I don't think I could have survived school without Nixie. Nixie, the red-headed girl who had stared at me during my whole first day of school. We had become friends, went on to high school, and grown to be inseparable. However, her slight, natural criticism permitted her a few sharp remarks at times, though she is still congenial and lovely. She ran toward me now, gaze dancing with enthusiasm and lips curved into a smile.
"Nora!" She ejaculated, slipping her arm through mine. "How was your weekend?"
I shrugged. "Same as ever, I guess."
She looked at me curiously. "What's on your mind?"
"Nothing."
She frowned. "Liar. Tell the truth!"
"Really, Nixie, it's nothing."
I knew Nixie didn't believe me but nevertheless she ceased her questioning. However, I caught her shooting curious glances at me, so I inwardly deemed it my responsibility to bring up a new topic. "How was your weekend?"
She didn't answer. Abruptly, she said, "Nora, I saw you and your dad before when he dropped you off - not talking to each other. Is it something to do with that?"
I didn't reply. I didn't say anything at all as we sat down at a solitary bench in the corner of the courtyard and she continued to burden me with an inquisitive gaze. Finally, I mumbled, "Maybe."
Nixie tugged on my sleeve. "Nora!" She said reproachfully. "Tell me! You're supposed to be my friend, and friends confide with one another. You're the complete opposite of that."
"I'm sorry, it's just not really something I want to talk about," I replied, twisting the strap of my backpack and keeping my eyes fixed on my knees.
"Please Nora."
"Fine!" I relented exasperatedly, and turned to face her. "Nixie, my dad wants me to be checked out by a pyschologist." I uttered the last word with disgust, and exhaled impatiently. "Nixie, what do you think is wrong with me?"
"Nothing!" Nixie said hastily. Too hastily.
I eyed her suspiciously. "Nixie, you don't mean that, do you?"
"Of course I do!" She replied defensively. "I guess you are a bit - well, different -"
"That's what dad said."
Nixie's cheeks flamed red, but she continued to protest to my assumptions. "Believe me, Nora."
I looked at her, and smiled weakly.
"Fine."
Nixie enveloped me in an affectionate embrace. She caught my pinkie finger in hers and whispered, "Friends forever."
"Friends forever."
My pen hesitated over paper, and I bit my lip, thinking hard. I heard the teacher's voice announcing the termination of the test and I scribbled in a hasty answer before laying down my pen. The bell rang, and I looked up at the clock - three, school was over! I breathed a sigh of relief and began to pick up my things, scooping them roughly together and piling them in a jumble in my bag. I glanced briefly at the boy who always sat next to me. Again I contemplated the disappointment that I never got to sit next to Nixie. The boy was looking at our teacher, Mr. Worth. I couldn't prevent myself gaping slightly. The hatred in the boy's eyes... Was it really at Mr. Worth. Mr. Worth, clearing his desk, hadn't noticed.
The students were filing out of the classroom, and I, due to my distraction, found myself at the back. The boy came next to me, to my disapproval. He kept looking behind his shoulder, at the dark haired, stern Mr. Worth, and I raised my eyebrows, yet neglected to comment. However, the boy had observed my curiosity. "What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing," I replied loftily. I wished the queue of students would move, for I was really beginning to dislike the boy. I shuffled my feet and shifted my backpack from shoulder to shoulder. Our conversation was not ended though, for the boy spoke again.
"Do you think Mr. Worth is a saint or something?"
I glared at him. "No, I just don't think you should look so hateful!"
The boy shook his head bitterly. "You really don't know, do you?"
"What do you mean?" I snapped. But he didn't answer, just pressed on ahead as the students began to move forward. I kept an eye on the bobbing orange head that was Nixie's and when the students had thinned out I approached her. "Nixie, who is that?" I asked, gesticulating toward the boy's retreating back. But Nixie wasn't listening.
"Nora, did you see Brodie in class? She was looking at Emma's paper!"
"Nixie, that doesn't matter..." My voice faded off as Nixie continued to chatter, and I sighed. No use trying to consult Nixie about it. Nixie preferred gossip above all else, and when she got starting talking about it there was no stopping her. I followed her out of the school building, immersed deeply in my thoughts, until my phone rang, and I rummaged in my bag to get it. It was dad calling.
"Hi dad," I said, gritting my teeth together as I did so.
"Hi Nora - look, I won't be able to pick you up today. I've got a conference meeting with my colleagues and I'll be home late."
"Really?" I said miserably. "How will I get home, then?"
"Take the bus for once!"
I never took the bus. I preferred to elude it, and avoid any rude words commonly expressed by fellow, impolite students. Due to this I protested. "Do I have to? Couldn't mum come?"
"Her friend Agnes turned up so let her be hospitable, Nora, and not rush off. Besides, be reasonable. There's nothing wrong with what I've suggested."
I wasn't convinced.
"Could I go with you, Nixie?" I asked.
"Sorry," Nixie replied. She blushed. "Um, I'm going over to Ryan's tonight."
I scowled at her. "Well..."
"Nora, I've got to go. See you later."
"But -" I stopped. He had hung up. I shoved my phone back into my bag. "Well," I said, turning to Nixie. "I best get going then. I've got a long walk home."
"You're walking?" Nixie said incredulously.
"And what's wrong with that?" I replied, with forced indifference. "See you."
"B-But -" Nixie stammered objectionably.
But I was gone, marching off down the footpath.
I grit my teeth in anger as I strode down the footpath, absently peering up at the grey sky. Dark clouds swept slowly across it, threatening rain, and I sped up. Drops began to fall, dampening my clothes and hair. I pulled my hoodie up and hastened my pace. The wheels of cars hissed on the wet road as they went by, splashing water up that trickled into the curb. However, my irritation ultimately abated and I felt quite miserable, shoulders sagging under the weight of my backpack as I brushed my soaking brown locks out of my face. My socks were drenched as my trainers were leaking, and my toes were beginning to feel numb. I rubbed my hands together and shoved them into my pockets. I had been walking for about two hours now.
I heard footsteps. Was someone else actually walking in this weather? I peered behind. No one was there. I shrugged, inwardly concluding that I had mistaken the noise. But then I heard it again. Once more I looked behind, but once more there was no one to meet my curious gaze. I looked straight ahead, shaking myself slightly. With an unpleasant chill down my spine I sensed the presence of someone, and heard... footsteps, again.
I broke into a run. The footsteps hurried too. I ran faster, my shoes slapping on the wet concrete, my breath coming in sharp gasps and a stitch piercing my side. I turned onto a new street, skidding and sliding as I veered right. The rain poured harder, and then small stones were hammering down - hail. I entered my road - not too far, now... The footsteps came closer, I was nearing the house...
I raced up onto the porch, wrenched the door open and slammed it shut behind me, locking it securely. Water dripped off me onto the carpet, and my shoes had created a muddy, wet patch already. I heard an indignant shout from behind me and looked around, my chest still heaving.
"Nora!" Mum stood at the end of the hall, arms folded and disapproval etched upon her face. "Have you walked all the way...?" Her frown deepened. "I thought Mark told you to take the bus."
"Er -he did," I replied awkwardly. "But..." I twisted my hands together and eluded her eyes. "I decided that a walk would be good for me."
"Nora, you are so childish sometimes!" Mum said impatiently. "Look at you, you're soaked!"
"I know." I shivered.
Mum sighed. "Wait here while I get a towel."
I stood, trembling from the cold, while she hurried off. Presently she returned, and gratefully I took the towel she offered me.
"Now go up to your room," Mum said. "And don't tell your father - he won't be pleased."
I nodded, and hastened up the stairs. I entered my room, burdened with heavy thoughts. These thoughts continued as I dried myself, changed, and brushed my hair before sitting down on my bed and slumping onto my pillows. Who had been following me? It remained to be seen.
"Um... Nixie, I'm not in the mood."
Nixie stopped, her natural habit as a conversationalist offended. However, she merely shrugged and replied, "Suit yourself." Then she moved over to talk with Macy.
I bit my lip. I shouldn't have been like that to my only friend, but her constant chatter was really driving on my nerves. I sighed and bent over my paper. I had decided to take advantage of the lunch break to do my science homework instead, and eat at the same time, so I wouldn't have to do it later at home. But Nixie's absence weighed heavily on my mind, and I couldn't brush away the guiltiness at having insulted her slightly.
My pencil lead broke. Exhaling impatiently I rummaged in my pencil-case for my sharpener. It wasn't there. Mabel must have taken it again. She thinks she can take my stuff whenever she likes, just because I let her borrow my eraser once, I thought bitterly.
"You can use mine."
I looked around. The boy that I had met yesterday sat by me now, offering a pencil-sharpener.
"Erm - thanks," I said shortly, accepting the sharpener a little awkwardly.
"Homework?" The boy asked.
I nodded.
"I noticed your friend go away."
I looked at him sharply. "Spying, are you?"
"No, observing."
I watched him irritably for a moment, but my annoyance faded.
"Sorry," I said grudgingly.
"Apology accepted. But... You're till angry at me from yesterday, though, aren't you?"
I looked pointedly away. "Maybe."
"Mr. Worth..." the boy hesitated. "He's not..."
"Not what?" I asked curiously.
"Not... Doesn't matter. Anyway, I'm Carlo."
"Nora," I replied.
"But I'm half-starved," the boy rubbed his stomach. He stood up. "I'm off to the cafetaria. You coming?"
"I guess." I shoved my stuff into my bag and followed him out of the library, and along the corridor. Then suddenly he stopped, outside a door.
"Erm..." I began.
"Shh!" He snapped.
"What are you doing?" I whispered, glancing up and down the hall. It was empty.
"Be quiet."
Reluctantly, I obliged.
Some minutes passed. Carlo still stood there, frowning as he listened intently. I moved closer. I could hear voices.
"... but did she see you yesterday?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Good. I know these methods are awkward but they are best. She can never know... Until, of course, though..."
"Don't you think it's reckless conversing here?"
"This is important! And besides, who would be listening?"
Suddenly, Carlo seized my hand and dragged me off down the corridor. We had just dived into an empty classroom when we heard a door open, then close. Carlo breathed a sigh of relief. Then he turned to me. "Nora, today you must hurry home as soon as school's finished. If you hear anyone behind you don't stop, and go as fast as you can."
"But -" I protested, bemused.
"Just do as I say! Now go," he shoved me away and was gone.
