Chapter 4, "I Hate Social Interaction"
The first thing I noticed about nearly being killed by a crashing plane was that everyone at school instantly liked me a lot. Everyone came up to me and said things like, "Hey, I can't believe a real, live space alien saved your life!" or, "You're so pretty, Frig, how do you do it?"
It was cool and everything, I was fine with people thinking I was awesome because, I mean, I am. But what I didn't expect were the sudden invites to the end of term shindig.
It started with Steve. I was used to Steve asking me out by now, to the point that I'd actually reported him to the office on harassment charges. So when he approached me (within his fifteen meter limits), he shouted, "FRIG, THERE IS A DANCE THING AT THE END OF TERM, DO YOU WANT TO GO WITH ME?"
I shook my head lazily and sighed heavily and sadly. Three seconds later, Hector appeared. "What about me? Do you want to go with me?"
"Not really," I lectured.
"Why?" He stuttered.
"It is because I am actually an amputee, and I have no left leg, so dancing is kind of tricky for me."
Hector stared. "I'm pretty sure your left leg is right there."
"That's what everyone tries to tell me, but you're not the one with a missing leg, now, are you?"
"I - guess not -"
"Right then! No dance!" I smiled cheerfully and waved cheerfully and flounced cheerfully down the hall.
I thought it would end there. I thought that thought prior to a good time for thinking that.
By lunchtime, another six boys had asked me to the shindig, and I had to come up with six different stories to get them to leave me alone. Hector actually appeared in the doorway with a wheelchair, which he brought over to my table.
"What's this?" I asked inquisitively.
"It's a wheelchair," he mused.
"Why did you bring me a wheelchair, Hector?" This is what I asked.
"I just figured, if you're really an amputee, it's awfully heartless that no one noticed before, and they've just been making you hop around on one leg? I couldn't stand for that. So I borrowed my mom's wheelchair to let you use."
He shoved the thing at me.
"Go on! Have a sit!"
This is ridiculous, I thought to myself. Why don't these boys realize I just hate everyone and going to the dance would mean I'd have to be around everyone outside of mandatory school? Still, it was awfully sweet of Hector to think of my handicap like that, so I sat in the wheelchair and smiled at him.
I saw Xlormp come into the cafeteria and sit down at his table. I waved at him, and he glared angrily at me, then walked over to where I was sitting.
"Hey, Frig, I can't believe you," he uttered.
"What?" I grimaced.
The incredible, slimy but beautiful alien gestured to the wheelchair. "Acting as if you were wounded in the plane crash, when I saved you like that. I'm hurt."
"But I thought you didn't save me, because you can't fly, because you're not a space alien."
Xlormp's eyes bugged out all buggy-like. "That's true. That's what I said. You moved of your own accord. Very well, wheel away."
He began to leave, and my heart lurched like a lurching thing. "Wait!" I called after the love of my heart and soul, "Anyway this isn't even my wheelchair! Hector brought it to me!"
Xlormp paused. "Hector?" His face transformed into an amused face, as if something he was thinking about were funny. "That's funny," he said.
"I know it is," I agreed.
"So, Frig, I have a question for you," he said with aplomb.
Part of me was afraid that he would ask me to the shindig, but another part of me wanted him to, because I would happily give up my life as an amputee for this green, glistening creature of beautifulness. I nodded as an indication that I was ready for him to ask whatever he wished to ask.
He opened his gorgeous, spacey mouth: "Can I borrow a pencil for my trig class? We're having a test."
I tried not to show my disappointment on my face, or in my body language, or by saying how disappointed I was. So instead I forced a fake smile that was not real and said, "Sure, what are friends for?"
As I dug out the pencil, I noticed that his face turned a steely sort of angry. "Frig, if you know what's best for you, you won't try to be my friend," he said. Then he took my pencil and slithered away, because his legs had turned into some sort of slithering thing. I thought about asking him why, but I didn't like the idea of getting hit again.
I sat there, crippled in my wheelchair, but not crippled from any physical malady, rather, a handicap of the heart. Why did this amazing creature of happiness think we shouldn't be friends?
"Frig, do you have a date for the end of term shindig yet?" A voice asked, shaking me out of my revelry. I wheeled around to see that it was Christopher.
"Christopher, you're a girl," I pointed out obviously.
"Do you have a problem with that?" She sputtered.
I sighed and wheeled myself to my next class.
Catch up with the chapters you may have missed somehow!