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Opuntia found herself next to a water fountain when the bell rang, a shrill, electronic sound, different from the traditional one heard at Arison. It was followed by a rumble of noise that seemed to grow louder and louder with every second. The building was growling, ready to roar. Opuntia quickly tucked herself out of the way, squishing against the water fountain just as the doors swung open and an ocean of people poured out of them. A rainbow of colours met her eyes as students dressed in all different things, from all different backgrounds and looks crowded the corridor, all having someplace different to go. It was astounding seeing all of the mess, and the noise, without someone shouting at them to keep in line.
She watched as students waved goodbye to their friends, swung open their lockers, and chatted loudly with the people next to them. She couldn’t tell if she liked it or not, but she knew one thing: she was invisible, and she loved it.
There were no eyes on her wondering why she was there or who she was. She was just a typical student to them, not standing out in the crowd for being the only girl at school. There were hundreds of other girls, so who was she to them? For the first time in a long time, she felt normal. She sighed deeply, realizing she didn’t have to worry about slipping up or making a fool of herself. She was simply a ghost, in the place she wasn’t supposed to be.
But this peace didn’t last long once she remembered why she was actually there. She quickly gathered her thoughts and began studying the people around her, thinking about what her strategy should be and who to target, but just then, she heard a voice that she wasn’t even sure was addressing her.
“Hey, love your skirt, I’m gonna need to ask you where you bought it.”
Opuntia looked up, forgetting that she was actually visible. A girl was parked at her locker gesturing to her skirt. She was surrounded by a group of a few other friends, some engrossed in other conversations.
“Oh, me?” she asked, not quite sure to answer the question considering that she was wearing another school’s uniform.
“Wait a minute, is that—Opuntia?” One of the girl’s friends had leaned forward and was registering her face, and at that moment, Opuntia recognized her as well. A face she had not seen in a long, long time. She had long black hair made up of a mass of tightly wound coils. She wore flower print everything, from her bell bottom jeans to her bright yellow turtle neck. But it was her sparkling smile painted against her dark skin that made it clear who she was.
“Ida?” Opuntia asked. Ida Jackson. One of the only girl friends she ever had. The one who’d chase her around the park on breezy summer afternoons, or point out clouds with her along the grassy banks of Minks’ Lake.
“Holy cow, I can’t believe it’s you!” Ida beamed as if she had just found a treasure chest.
“Who’s this, now?” Ida’s friend asked, looking annoyed at being out of the loop.
“Justine, this is Opuntia,” Ida explained, gesturing for Opuntia to come in closer to their circle. “We go way back, we used to spend almost every day in the summer together, remember? Back before the lake closed off swimming?”
Opuntia nodded, reminiscing even more about what her life could have been without Arison. A life with Ida.
“You lived in that big old house off of carnation street, right? And your dad ran that fancy private school, right?” Ida asked excitedly, clearly so eager to see her old friend again.
“Yeah, I do,” Opuntia said, slightly awkwardly, remembering her father’s disapproval of her spending so much time with Ida. With Teddy being off in myrtle beach every summer and her sister usually never wanting to play unless it was doing something she wanted, it was the only kind of fun she had for those two months off of school. But that all changed when…
“So, what happened to you, Opuntia?” Ida finally brought it up. “You disappeared like five or so years ago and I never saw you at the lake anymore.”
“Oh, well, it’s a long story, really.” Opuntia played with her hair nervously, no longer revelling in her invisibility, and now feeling very seen. 163Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyGp3mO48Ie
“Oh, don’t get Ida started on long stories,” Justine piped up with a knowing grin. “She’ll listen to the most craziest talk imaginable.”
Opuntia then realized that in front of her were 2 regular students at new versine high, which was exactly what she needed to aid in her search for answers. With a deep breath, she began explaining to them where she went for those five years.
“Well, I actually went to the private school, you know, the one my dad inherited, Arison?”
They both looked at her, slightly shocked.
“I thought it was an all-boys school?” said Ida.
“Well, I guess with the right connections and right complexion, you can get in anywhere,” Justine shrugged, checking her locker mirror to put on some red lipstick.
“It was a crazy loophole in the rules that even I can’t really explain,” Opuntia continued.
“I always just assumed you were sent off to another rich boarding school, but then I saw your sister here and I got all confused,” Ida babbled on. “Is that why your here, to pick her up or something?”
That was exactly the opposite of what she wanted. She had completely forgotten that Halle could possibly spot her here, out of Arison, at any moment, and completely ruin her life. She squeaked and began trying to hide behind Ida and Justine.
“No, no, she doesn’t know and I don’t want her to find out. Look, Arison is actually why I’m here. I need to ask you guys a question about your school, I mean if you’re alright with it.
“Shoot,” Justine replied, closing her locker door shut.
“Well, we have a bit of a problem going on at our school, and we think it might have something to do with a rivalry with new versine high, so, what do you know about your lacrosse team?”
The two girls looked at each other, raising their eyebrows.
“Lacrosse? Sure, they’re alright, but from what I know, the lacrosse team isn’t really worried about beating Arison, it’s Worcester Tech that will determine their state eligibility.” Ida explained. “I’m on the school paper, so I have some knowledge about the sports highlights.”
“Why would you be asking about lacrosse, anyway?” Justine added, confused. “Everyone only cares about football now, the big game starts in a few minutes.”
“You’re just saying that because your boyfriend’s the quarterback,” Ida teased, “but it’s true, lacrosse never gets the front page and they haven’t had a memorable game against Arison in years. I didn’t even know your school had a team?”
Opuntia’s heart began to sink through her chest and into the floor. The possibility she was hoping beyond hoping for was beginning to seem unlikely.
“So, you don’t really think your school has any other kind of hatred or rivalry for Arison?” She asked, giving it one last shot.
“Hm, not really,” Justine said indifferently. “I guess we just think that you guys are a bunch of rich white folk who study to become doctors and stuff, no offence to you.”
“No, you kind of hit the mark on that one,” Opuntia sighed, raking her bangs back in distress.
“Now what is this about? What brought you all the way here to ask us about this school rivalry?” Ida asked, looking slightly concerned. Feeling defeated with nothing to lose, Opuntia explained to them the message on the floor and the petrified nighthawk, trying to ignore how it made her insides twist and hands shake.
Justine looked disgusted and surprised at this story, but Ida had an illuminated look in her eyes as if something was never so disturbing yet intriguing. It perfectly mirrored how Opuntia felt in her heart.
“And I thought protesting dress code was a scandal, this is next level,” she said in awe.
“So, my friends and I are trying to find out who’s behind it, but we haven’t had much success,” Opuntia concluded. As she said this, she spotted Sampson and Teddy making their way over to them in the still-bustling hallway, hosting the same look of defeat she felt.
“What did you find, O.P?” Teddy asked, nearly avoiding getting hit by a person’s giant backpack.
“Clearly two girls is what she found,” Sampson smirked, turning to Ida and Justine. “Sampson Laurier, but the chicks call me Sampson the sharp,”
“You’re really still using that line?” Opuntia said with exasperation.
“Hey, just because it didn’t work on you doesn’t mean it won’t work on them!” He looked back to the girls, who rolled their eyes.
“I’m taken,” Justine said matter-of-factly.
“And I’m just not interested,” Ida giggled.
“I thought I told you two to meet me in the atrium,” Opuntia said, changing the subject immediately.
“Well, we were, but we had to come up here since people kept giving us dirty looks and all,” Sampson shrugged.
“It’s like no one wanted to talk to us! It’s like everyone I went up to never had a real conversation with someone before,” Teddy further explained, seeming baffled at this fact. Opuntia could vividly imagine Teddy cheerfully walking towards people in the hall, unaware that socializing was a lot different compared to when you were twelve. And Sampson was probably so used to everyone knowing who he was, not feeling the need to make a stellar first impression.
“I mean, I’m not quite sure what I expected,” Opuntia sighed, turning back to Ida and Justine to thank them for their help.
“You’re not going to stay for the game?” Ida asked, looking sad to see her leave so quickly.
“Marcus is on the starting lineup so I know it’s going to be boss,” Justine added.
It was true that Matteo did give them about an hour or so left before he would pick them up, and it would give them an opportunity to talk to more people. But even after walking around the bleachers, embarrassingly asking more annoyed students what they knew about Arison, and stalking the library for NVHS’s own records, there was nothing. Just more frustration built between the 5 of them, and a hole the size of Everest in Opuntia’s heart, where her hope once lay. Defeated, they all walked back to the school parking lot as the sun began to nestle halfway down the horizon, only Sampson and Teddy still somehow optimistic. Ida followed them, not yet ready to say goodbye to her lost friend.
“Maybe it was just a one-time fluke?” She suggested, trying to lift Opuntia’s spirits. “I don’t think it was a waste of time, at least, since we got to see each other again.”
“And we got to stick it to Redwood for sneaking out without him noticing,” Sampson grinned, still walking with a spring in his step.
“Don’t speak too soon,” Wilfred warned darkly.
“Look, Opuntia,” Ida stopped her just as Matteo’s bright blue car was spotted down the road. “Why don’t I give you my writing address and I can fill you in if I find anything else out about the rivalry?”
“Oh, no, no, you don’t have to do that,” Opuntia replied, already feeling bad enough for wasting her time on something that now seemed pointless.
“No, I want to do it. This whole thing just sounds so interesting, I mean--” but she quickly trailed off after seeing the look on Opuntia and her friends’ faces.
“Look, I know it sounds silly, but my dream is to be an investigative journalist. All of this mystery stuff is what I love.”
“Why would that be silly?” Wilfred asked, confused. As a foreigner, it was clear that Wilfred didn’t understand the underlying meaning behind Ida’s words, but everyone else did. They knew how almost impossible it seemed for someone with Ida’s skin tone to get anything she wanted, even if it wasn't right. Opuntia imagined how much worse it must be for her over something she couldn’t even control. She already struggled enough with being a girl, and Ida had been forced to deal with both.
“Well, let’s just say, as Justine puts it, people like ‘us’ are found in headlines, not bylines.” She said while everyone looked uncomfortable. “But I’d love to help you no matter what. I guess I’m just suggesting to…keep in touch?” Ida finished like she was trying to sell Opuntia a product in an infomercial, her curly hair bouncing off her shoulders as she talked enthusiastically. Opuntia, after everything, had to agree. Even if she left that day feeling miserable, she at least left with one more friend.
“It was nice meeting all of you!” Ida called to the boys as Matteo’s car sped off, with Roger snoozing peacefully in the passenger seat.
“Hey, Arison, can I get her address too?” Sampson asked her cheekily, once again squished in the trunk.
“You better watch out, Laurier, or we’ll replace her with you,” Teddy replied, leading to them beginning to push each other around playfully as the Range Rover turned sharp corners.
“So, we didn’t get exactly what we’d hoped for,” Wilfred spoke to Opuntia and Engelbart, needing to address the obvious. “But I still think everything will be fine.”
“It seems unlikely but we can’t exactly rule it out,” Eng replied, always trying to stay neutral on both sides.
“I guess,” was all Opuntia said. She was in her mind again, wondering if it was really worth it to sink back into panic and paranoia, or just will herself to move on. It had been more than three weeks since the message was first uncovered, and nothing bad had happened to the school, her father or herself. Perhaps everyone was right, she had taken this train far too many stops, and it was running out of coal to burn. She had other things far more important, like the mountain of schoolwork that she had been sitting on since she left the school. That was about the entire rest of her night after the Caesar 6 (5) had successfully gotten back to Arison, with only a suspicious glance in their direction from Opuntia’s father as they settled down for supper.
Chemistry, biology, calculus, french, then English. Opuntia worked until her corneas burned that evening, reading over and over again without actually comprehending. She had a chapter test on the introduction of integral limits and was starting a new Shakespeare play tomorrow. Although her brain felt like it was throbbing, fit to burst with all of this jumbled information, in a way it was so full that she did not have room to worry about anything else.
By the time she had finished, all the lights in the hallway were out. Only the flickering stub of a candle kept her company, and the sound of rustling from Redwood’s office next door met her ears. Drawers were opened, cupboards were shut, and papers were shuffled, while at the same time, Opuntia set to work on her poem. 163Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡi7HerCGPrv
In the bounds of a trillion lifetimes
I had rolled the dice and rigged my score
Deriving the function
Reducing my xs, changing the path of the line
But when I find myself present in the integral
The world that I strayed from half a decade ago
I debate meaninglessly with myself If I was wise to play gods and change equations of my life
Would colour flush my cheeks more often, would my eyes be used to squinting from a smile rather than furrow?
Would I find solace in leaving real footsteps on the floor, that many after me would follow
Would I rejoice in the ability to be looked straight through, my transparent bones leaking their marrow?
Or would I miss the life I never should have, not knowing—163Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvqjA5NV6G1
But before she could finish, or even conceive the next line, all of her fear rushed back inside of her as a suffocating, explosive singularity. A scream like a banshee had split the night, and the mystery was all but over.
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