How to Make a Human

I showed up at Mrs. Beakon's room for detention at exactly 3:02PM, two minutes later than what she told me to do. She wasn't there, the hypocrite. I sat down at a desk and waited. She arrived five minutes later sipping a Styrofoam cup of coffee.

"Ah, Billy," she greeted, setting down her coffee on her desk and rifling through some papers.

"Hello, Mrs. Beakon."

"I expect you showed up here at exactly 3:00?" she asked, peering up from her papers.

Lie. Say you were here even earlier. "No. I actually made it here two minutes late."

I mentally kicked myself for not taking the opportunity and lying.

"Ah, well, at least your honest."

Don't respond. It's a trap. She will trap you and set you up for another detention. "Well, I wasn't going to cut out of class early just so I would fit your schedule."

Stop talking, Bobbie, stop talking!

She stopped sifting through her papers and looked at me, "What was that?"

“Nothing. Sorry.”

"So, care to explain why you were late?”

"I- uh," pause, think, ignore rational thought, speak, "I can barely make a normal friend, let alone find my way to class. Yesterday the only reason I made it here on time was because I heard a kid talking about this class and so I stalked them all the way here. Today I had no one to follow on time, so I had no clue where to go. And honestly, detention for multiple offences is one thing, but this is only my second day of school, and my first time being late to your class. Plus my Oma will kill me via German wrath. I don't want to face that! She yells at me in German and I don't know what she's saying!"

Take foot, place in mouth.

Mrs. Beakon was silent for a moment, one eyebrow raised, and her grey eyes sizing me up.

"Fair enough. You're off the hook. For now. Show up late again and that's a weeks worth of detention to make up for this one."

My eyes widened and I scrambled from my seat, thanking her profusely.

"Don't get used to it," she interrupted, "the only reason I'm letting you off the hook is because I forgot I had a hair appointment. Don't think for a minute your self-pity speech worked on me."

"Right, okay! Thanks anyway!" I squealed, grabbing my bag and practically running to the door. I checked my Pokemon watch and saw that it was 3:10. Mae was going to kill me. I ran through the parking lot before I saw Bear putting her stuff away into the trunk of an old, silver Toyota waving at me. I jogged to her car, huffing and puffing like I had just run a mile. Ah, the woes of being athletically challenged.

Bear was holding a long pole and trying to find a way to place it in her trunk.

"Hey Bobbie!" she said brightly, setting the end of the pole on the ground and holding it like a staff.

"Hi. What's that?" I gestured to the large pole.

"Oh, it's for javelin," she clarified, nodding.

"Cool! How high can you jump?" I asked excitedly. Bear gave me a weird look. Oh, I was thinking of pole-vaulting. Well, if I didn't look like a moron before, I did now.

"Anyway," I breezed pass my previous statement, "What are you doing?"

"Just getting ready to go to practice. Today we're having it over at the Miriam," she explained, finally situating the javelin in the trunk.

"The Miriam?"

"Yeah, it's a track field over by Miriam's School for the Gifted, or whatever. Anyway, our field is being cleaned today, so we're heading over there."

"Oh." Pause, realize, smile brightly. "Oh! Hey do you think you could give me a ride over there? My sister goes there and I'm supposed to walk her home."

"Oh, yeah. Sure, not a problem."

I clambered into the passenger seat while she energetically hopped into the front seat. She started the car and music blared loudly from the speakers causing me to flinch and Bear to attack the radio, trying to turn it down. When it was quiet I nodded my head slightly to the music. Help! I need somebody! Help! Not just anybody! Help! You know I need somebody! Help!

"Who is this?" I asked gesturing to the radio. Bear tossed me another weird look.

"The Beatles…?" she answered like it should be the most obvious thing in the world. So I didn't know much music, so what if I lived in a box?

"Oh. Yeah, of course. My bad," I lied. Of course, my ass.

"So your sister goes to Miriam's? Is she some sort of prodigy?" Bear asked, stopping at the red light on the way out of the parking lot.

"Yeah, she plays the violin like she's fifty or something."

All of the casual fun we had in art class seemed to have flown out the window and was replaced by discomfort. It was like driving with a total stranger. No familiarity.

"Ah." She nodded.

"So, what's with--"

"Shane and me?" Bear interrupted. I was actually going to say "What's with the weather?" or some awkward icebreaker, but if she was going to open up to me, then hell if I would stop her.

"It's just--! Gah! I don't know," she sighed. "It's like he's the only one who I'm, like, openly aggressive with."

Oh shit. She's passive aggressive. I'm not sneaky enough to handle that.

"Oh."

"I just remember we went to the same school when we were little. We were always sort of… bitchy to each other. You know, we were little. Boys had cooties and girls were all retarded unless they were your mom. We were, what, like, seven years old? And then when we finally got together it was like… all hell broke loose. The floodgates just-- whoosh!-- opened, you know?"

…So they dated when they were seven….? And for some reason they never got over it? In kindergarten I "married" John Little. He broke up with me, I puked in his lunchbox, and a week later we were stealing the other kid's milk boxes and making milk box castles together. Life goes on.

"Oh god!" she laughed, breaking her rant, "I'm probably freaking you out!"

"Oh no! Not at all!" I urged. Yeah, it's not weird that you can't get over a second grade crush or anything.

"Well, anyway. You have nothing to worry about. We won't drag you into this. Well, at least I won't. I don't know about Shane. It's like the whole sibling rivalry thing… he's so bitter. It's just-- gah. He's so immature!"

What the hell was she talking about? She stopped talking and huffed, drifting off into some memory.

"Shane," I reminded.

"Oh, yeah. Well, long story short: He's a pain in my fat, white ass. I just hate having to see him at school and home."

"Oh," I said for lack of something better to say. I gathered the facts in my head and sat on them of a while before--

"Wait… just what is your relationship with him?" I finally asked. I was so remarkably confused.

Bear snorted loudly, "HA! We're siblings! What did you think we were?"

Ex-lovers. "That's what I thought. I was just making sure. You guys look, like, nothing alike."

Nice cover. Bear laughed anyway.

"Yeah, well, we're not related by birth. My dad married his mom."

"Oh," I mumbled. I felt foolish.

"Bobbie, my bother and I are incredibly different people. Shane can be a territorial prick, and honestly, I can too. I still want to hang out. Just not when Shane is around.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but are you guys always that… angry with each other?”

“Well, we’re always pissed, but it was worse today.”

“Why?”

“He ate the last bowl of Lucky Charms.”

Seriously? Uhg, siblings.

"Oh," I said again. She pulled into the parking lot of Miriam's School for the Gifted and I hopped out of the car as quickly as possible, as did Bear. I saw Mae Beth talking to a group of kids her age, all holding different instruments, she glanced over at me and began saying her goodbyes. I glanced back at Bear who was trying to force the javelin out of the trunk. She clearly felt awkward, and for once I was going to be the one to sooth the situation.

"You know, this doesn't change my opinion about you.," I told her, casually leaning against the car.

Bear looked at me, with a slightly surprised expression, "Well, I'd hope not."

"I still need someone to sit next to me in art class." I told her.

"As do I," she glanced at her watch, "Shit! I'm late! See ya tomorrow, Bobbie!"

She jogged off to the field right when Mae Beth detached herself from her new group of friends and made her way over to me.

"Well, I'll be dammed; you do have a friend."

"Pfft. Please, I have three," I boasted. Yes I was counting Demetri. Technically, he's only an acquaintance, and only counts as about half of a friend, but I'm rounding up.

"You must be so proud," Mae rolled her eyes as we began our trek home.

"I am," I retorted.

And I was. I really was.