Melanie stared fixedly at the toes of her new shoes. They were her favorite color, a bright, nearly neon pink with stitching only a little bit darker, laced with sparkling silver laces. She’d been quite proud of the fact that, with only a little help, she’d been able to tie them herself that morning. She’d been even prouder when she had walked into the classroom for the very first time and noted that most of the other students were either wearing shoes with hook and loop tape or those elastic coiled laces you didn’t need to tie. She didn’t need that. She could tie her own shoes.
The laces of one now hung loose, sagging and limp and orange with playground dirt. Really, both shoes were dirtier than she would have wanted, although at least she hadn’t torn them. The same could not be said of her dungarees, or her shirt, which is why she was concentrating so hard on her shoes.
To her left, Jon sat rigid and upright, his arms tightly folded over his chest. There was a smear or a scratch, she wasn’t quite sure which, on the lens of his glasses, but he hadn’t even attempted to wipe it away. Then again, there wasn’t really anything for him to wipe it with. His clothes were probably even more messed up than Melanie’s were, but what was really worrying her was the thin trickle of dried blood extending from under his nose. Less that he’d had the nosebleed and more that nobody had offered him a tissue for it. It was, she thought judgmentally, a terrible way to treat someone, especially a child. She wanted to ask if he was okay, but they’d already been told that they were to sit in silence and think about what you’ve done, so she didn’t.
Instead, she probed tentatively at a tooth with her tongue. It hurt like crazy, and it was definitely wiggly. Not quite loose enough to fall out on its own, but with a little judicious work it would probably come out. She didn’t want to do that here, though. She could handle the pain, but the blood was another matter, and she didn’t want to make a bigger mess than she already had. She maybe felt a little guilty about the dirt on the floor under her feet, but only a little.
The day had been going so well, too. Miss Goldman was a lovely woman, warm and welcoming and very understanding, and she’d done a masterful job of introducing a room full of children who had mostly never been in a formal setting like this to the basics. The morning exercises had been enjoyable without being condescending, and they had started off with maths. Melanie liked numbers, better than she liked words anyway; she couldn’t always read them well, but she’d picked up addition and subtraction and even her times tables quickly enough and could do them in her head reasonably well. She’d been surprised to learn that was a talent not shared by most of her new classmates. She’d been relieved, after lunch, to learn that there were only two other children, other than Jon, who had even begun learning how to read, and neither of them read as fast or as well as him. She never felt stupid compared to Jon, but she’d been worried about feeling stupid next to people she didn’t know. Her experiences in the playgroup had not been great on that front.
And then they’d been set out to play in the schoolyard. Even that hadn’t been so bad, not at first. Actually it had been a lot of fun. There were balls to kick and ropes to skip with, swings and slides and climbing bars, and even though there were several classes out in the yard, there ought to have been room for all of them. Melanie had been so excited she hadn’t known where to start. Jon, too, had been just as enthusiastic, and they had eventually decided to take a turn on the swings.
Which, in a long, roundabout way, had brought them here.
From behind the headmaster’s door, she could hear the faint rise and fall of a scolding voice. It would be nice to think that Scott’s mother was scolding him, but she didn’t think that was likely, somehow. She hadn’t seemed particularly reasonable when she’d swept in, nor had the look she’d given Jon and Melanie been particularly forgiving or kind. All right, it had technically been two on one, and they had thrown the first punch, but really, he’d started it. It was all his fault.
The door to the outer office opened once again, and Melanie, recognizing the footsteps, kept her gaze firmly pointed downwards. She wasn’t ready to see the look of disappointment—or worse, anger. And it wouldn’t be directed at Scott, either.
“Oh, my God.” Mummy sounded both tired and horrified. She quickly crossed the floor and knelt down in front of them; Melanie was forced to look into her face as she gently cupped her hand under her chin and tilted it up to see. Melanie pressed her lips tightly together to keep from saying anything. “Look at you both. This is a mess. And on your first day, too.” She fished a handkerchief out of her purse and handed it to Jon, then looked over her shoulder at the secretary. “Do I need to sign them out or just take them home?”
“You’ll need to speak to Mrs Cromwell about that,” the receptionist said in her sharp, shrill tones.
Jon finished wiping his glasses—it was a smudge, that was good—then tugged Mummy’s sleeve. “Mummy?”
“Yes, Jon?” Mummy sighed, turning back to face him. The receptionist scowled over her shoulder at them, and Melanie flinched.
Jon beckoned her close, cupped his hands around her ear, and whispered for a moment. Mummy pulled back and stared at him. Melanie couldn’t read her expression. “Where did you hear that?”
“Scott,” Jon said softly. “He said that we couldn’t really be siblings if—”
Mummy held up a finger and rose gracefully to her feet. “Wait here for just a moment,” she said calmly. Turning, she walked, still steady and unhurried, to the door to the head teacher’s office, opened it, stepped through, and closed it carefully.
If it wasn’t a thick enough door to prevent them from hearing the tone of Scott’s mother’s voice, it definitely wasn’t so thick that they couldn’t make out their mother’s shout. “HE CALLED THEM WHAT?!”
Melanie glanced sideways at Jon. He was biting his lip as he dabbed gingerly under his nose. After a moment, he pulled the handkerchief away, refolded it so that the clean parts were exposed, and offered it to Melanie, who tentatively pressed it to her lip. It didn’t feel like it was still bleeding, but it hurt a little, and it was better to make sure.
A moment or two later, Mummy came stalking out of the office, her eyes flashing. “Jon, Melanie, let’s go,” she commanded, holding out her hand. Melanie swallowed the urge to start apologizing—or crying—and took Jon’s hand; he obediently took Mummy’s hand in his other, and they left the school.
A few of the kids were watching them. Jon stared straight ahead and didn’t make eye contact with anyone; Melanie squeezed his hand gently—she wasn’t sure if it hurt, she’d seen how rough his knuckles were—and glanced over at one of them. It was one of the older girls, one of the ones who’d been playing with the skipping ropes, and she caught Melanie’s eye and gave her a thumbs up. It made her feel a little better, at any rate. Still, neither she nor Jon spoke the entire way home.
Mummy sighed as they pulled into the driveway and she shut off the car. “Go inside and get cleaned up,” she said. Her voice was still calm, not like she’d shouted when she went into the head teacher’s office. That didn’t necessarily make Melanie feel better. Their mother wasn’t normally a shouter, but they’d never done anything quite this bad before.
Jon took Melanie’s hand again as they got out of the car, and they went silently to their room, their mother trailing them as she went. She stopped on the way, though, big surprise. Probably she was going to tell their father what had happened. Melanie waited until they were in their room with the door shut before she spoke. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” Jon was lying. Melanie didn’t need to ask him to know he was lying. He probed gently at his nose, then sighed. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble too.”
Melanie harrumphed and trudged over to the dresser to rummage through it for something clean. “You didn’t get us in trouble. Scott was a big jerk.” She paused, then added, “What did those words mean? When he said we couldn’t be—”
“I don’t know exactly,” Jon said carefully. He struggled out of his shirt and tossed it towards the laundry basket. “But I don’t think they were very nice. Or at least he didn’t mean them to be very nice.” He turned to look at Melanie. “Is your mouth okay?”
“It’ll be okay.” Melanie probed the tooth again. She could slide her tongue all the way underneath it and tip it pretty far, but not enough to properly dislodge it. “Does the Tooth Fairy pay the same rate for teeth that don’t fall out on their own, or is it less because they’re not ready?”
“Teeth are teeth, Melanie. Once they come in, they don’t get bigger or harder.”
Melanie abandoned her tooth and struggled out of her dungarees, then brushed herself down before reaching for the pair of corduroys that matched the ones Jon was pulling on. “It wasn’t a bad day, though, was it? Except Scott?”
“No,” Jon agreed. “Miss Goldman is nice. And I liked that trick she taught us about the times tables. I didn’t think we were going to get to learn anything on the very first day.”
“So we’re going to go back tomorrow?”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Of course!” Melanie said emphatically. “I just, I thought maybe you would want to go somewhere else. Or, or wait or something.”
Jon shook his head. “It’s not that bad. Anyway, you want to go back, and I’m not leaving you. Where you go, I go.”
“That’s the deal,” Melanie agreed. She’d promised Jon that almost a year ago, when they had been afraid he was going to be sent away, and she was glad he remembered that that went both ways.
She hugged him tight, then took his hand as they ventured out of their room.
Mummy and Daddy were standing in the hallway talking, but they broke off when they came out. Daddy immediately got down on one knee in front of them and reached for Melanie. “Come here, Little Moth, let me take a look. Can you open your mouth for me?”
Melanie obediently opened her mouth as wide as she could and, guessing what he was looking at, pushed at the loose tooth again. Daddy hummed under his breath, that little sound he made when he was thinking. “We can try and take that out now if you like, or wait for it to fall out on its own. I think it’s just loose enough for the doorknob trick.”
“The doorknob trick?” Melanie repeated, as best as she could without moving her mouth.
Daddy laughed gently and let go of her chin. “You’ll see. Come into the office.”
Inside the office, Daddy sat Melanie on the edge of his desk, then rummaged about until he produced a ball of string. “Open your mouth again,” he instructed her.
She obeyed. Daddy unwound the ball of string. “Now. This is going to be a little weird, but trust me, okay?”
Once Melanie gave him a thumbs up, he tied one end of the string to her loose tooth. He was right, it did feel a little weird, and it hurt a bit, but Melanie bore up. Daddy wound out the string more and then tied it to the knob of the open door, then turned to Jon. “All right, Little Flame, I need your help. Can you—”
He got no further. Jon, who had evidently put together what was going to happen faster than Melanie had, climbed up onto the desk behind her and wrapped his arms around her to anchor her in place. Daddy blinked and looked at Mummy. “I was going to let him do the door part, but…you look mad enough to make this work. Go ahead, Gil.”
Mummy wrapped her hand around the doorknob, pulled it open just a little bit more, then paused. She turned and looked at Melanie and Jon seriously.
“I’m not mad at you,” she assured them. “Either of you. I promise.”
With that, she slammed the door with a loud bang.
Melanie’s head jerked forward, and only Jon’s arms kept her from falling onto her knees, or so she told herself. Something ripped free of her mouth and went flying. Daddy knelt down to the limp string and untied it, then held out his palm, showing Melanie her slightly bloody tooth. “Here you go. You can go put this under your pillow and then we’ll go get ice cream.”
“Ice cream?” Melanie repeated, sliding off the desk. “Even though we got in a fight at school?”
“On the first day?” Jon added. “Mrs Cromwell said we should be ashamed.”
“Mrs Cromwell should—” Mummy snapped her mouth shut, then knelt down in front of Jon and Melanie. “Did you tell her what Scott said to you?”
“Just that he said mean things to Melanie,” Jon admitted.
“And to you,” Melanie reminded him, just as she had in the head’s office. “It didn’t matter exactly what the words were, did it?”
“In this case, it did. Those are very bad words, and not ones that are allowed in the school. And apparently he’s been saying them more often than he should have, you’re just the only ones who did something about it.” Mummy gave them a very small smile. “I’m not saying fighting is always the right answer. I’m not saying you should do that all the time. But if you ever hear someone use those words again, even if they’re not talking about you, that’s a good reason to hit them. And then tell a grown-up, so they can do something about it. Like Mrs Cromwell did in telling Scott he can’t come back to school. So. Let’s go get ice cream to celebrate your first day of school, and maybe a little to help with that hole where your tooth used to be. And then…” She looked up at Daddy with raised eyebrows.
Daddy smiled. “And then, we were going to wait until Christmas, but this seems like a good a day as any to go to the animal rescue and see about getting a cat.”
“Really?” Jon and Melanie cried in unison.
“Really, really.” Daddy ruffled their hair. “Go on. Go put your tooth away before you lose it and we’ll be on our way.”
Melanie and Jon exchanged grins as they ran back to their room. It hadn’t been such a bad day after all. And it was only going to get better.