Tied

My mom pulled up to the roundabout in front of the school and stopped the car. She placed a little kiss on the top of my head as I grabbed my bookbag and opened the door. I stood up and turned back to say goodbye, but she was already pulling out and merging back into traffic. I sighed and turned down the cracked cement pathway towards the front doors of the school.
As usual, we had arrived shortly before the bell to head to class. I slumped down the hallway to my history class, the first period of the day. I got there before the rest of the class and sat in my normal seat, all the way in the back under the poster depicting the “War’s End Kiss.” History was a no-brainer. I could sleep and doodle all through class and still make good grades.
I pulled out my homework to turn in, and also grabbed my math notebook. As soon as I was back in my seat, I opened my notebook and started to work.
Math was my favorite subject, the one subject that never changed. English had rules upon rules with countless exceptions to each rule. Science changed every year or so, with new discoveries being made all the time. History is constantly being written, new wars, new conflicts. Math has remained almost completely unchanged since its origin with the ancient Arabs and Mughals.
I could halfway hear the teacher’s lecture as I worked on a multi-level algebra problem. Suddenly, a searing pain flashed through my ankle. I looked up suddenly and my teacher’s words flowed clearly into my ears.
The topic was world war two, and the making of the atomic bomb. As she spoke of the creators of the first true superweapon, the hairs on my neck started standing on end. I furiously stared at my math notebook and started working on the problem again, trying to drown out the lecture and ignore the throbbing pain in my ankle and shoulder.
Finally, the class period ended and I stuffed my things into my bookbag, heading to second period in long strides. I sat down in my Spanish class and leaned back in my chair, bringing out notes and starting on the board work set out for us. The class passed with lots of new notes on verb conjugations and grammar, then I was off to lunch period.
I slid into line and shuffled forward until I was able to grab a tray and receive a meal of disappointing cafeteria food. I started eating and grabbed my math notebook. If only life was as simple and easy to figure out as a math problem. In math, X has a definite value, and the problem has a set number of variables. In life, most of what we see are variables, X changes all the time. It’s confusing, and nearly impossible to figure out.
A few people sat at my table, a mutual sense of ignoring the norm.
Suddenly a searing pain shot through my body. My vision blurred, and white lights flashed in my eyes. Oh God, the white. White all around me, like my dream last night. I groaned and doubled over in my chair, my skin tingling and my words burning. Whispered voices sounded in my ear, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying.
I could barely sense people around me, the cafeteria monitors. Apparently students keeling over in their chairs arouse a sense of alarm. They took my arms, guiding me into a wheelchair. What the heck was that for? My head flopped slightly and I could sense them wheeling me away. But I wasn’t done with my lunch…
***
I woke up slowly, my eyes blurry and my skin hot and sensitive. I sat up and looked around, noticing little boxes of gloves and Q-tips. I was in the nurse’s office. I stood up and she noticed me.
“Well hello there. It’s nice to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
I shook my head. “What happened?”
She smiled warmly, like every other nurse I’ve ever met. I wonder if they teach them that in nursing school.
“You passed out in the lunch room. It was probably a drop in blood sugar or from an illness. Is anyone in your family sick?”
I shook my head, finding that the only thing I could do. “Can I go now?”
She nodded. “Your mother’s here to pick you up. You’ve been out for almost half an hour, and we shouldn’t clear you to go back to class. Go home and rest.”
She didn’t need to tell me twice. I grabbed my bag from the floor where they left it and headed out the door. My mom was parked right outside, and I sat in the passenger seat. She didn’t say a word as we drove home, and I quickly went to my room and laid down as soon as we got home.
All I could think of as I lay there were those words, what they had to do with my episode, and if that was what had affected Aurore…