Integration
A special needs student has trouble in their middle school class
Disclaimer - There is actually no reason for a disclaimer to be here. In fact, by writing this I have done nothing but waste your time. Please don't be angry. It's just a bad habit at this point . . .
Integration
Carol sat in the back corner of the class by the window, head resting on her bulky sweatshirt covered arms as she listened to Mrs. McGregor drone on and on about how the judicial branch was the smallest branch of the government. Unlike the others, who sat in the welded single person desks of the middle school, Carol sat in the back on a rolly chair behind the table that had been included for "special-needs-students." It was so embarrassing . . .
She didn't even know why she had to come to school on days like this anyways. It wasn't like she was really missing anything that she couldn't do from home. Sighing, Carol thought about the good old days before the integration bill, when she could just say she was sick and go out to run in the fields behind her house. But now, here she was, sitting at the table for 'special' students as Janice and the other girls snuck giggling glances back at her.
Her Dad had been really positive about it, smiling like he always did. This was an opportunity, a chance to show the world what she was really made of. The other kids would probably think it was cool! He'd always been a hopeless optimist, even after Mom left . . .
Carol's nose twitched before she shook her head and sneezed, two or three of her classmates looking back as Mrs. McGreggor gave her the evil eye. It wasn't her fault that the school was so dusty. It smelled like mildew and old socks and . . . she held up a hand to her face, pressing against her nose, feeling the skin begin to become moist. Damn it . . .
She tried to resist it, straining against the feeling of hair prickling down her spine, trying desperately to focus in on the teacher's words. Holding her breath, she willed the changes to stop, sitting perfectly upright. She couldn't do it though, and her breath escaped her lips not as a gasp, but as a short high pitched whine. Her cheeks burned as the other students turned to look at her. She grabbed her pencil and pretended to bury herself in her notes as the teacher sighed and continued on with another transparency on the overhead projector.
Swallowing heavily, Carol gritted her sharpening teeth as she watched her face begin to push forwards into her vision. The other students' whispers came into clearer focus as her ears began to twitch and rotate, hearing hushed bits about it being the middle of the day, and how James' mother had told him that this was god's way of punishing bad people.
Mrs. McGregor cleared her throat loudly and the whispering died down as she arduously moved onto the executive branch. Carol shifted her weight uncomfortably, wheels of the chair squeaking impossibly loudly to her own growing furry ears as she shifted her weight forwards and her tail began to press out.
Dad had been so proud, sewing in little flaps into the back of her shorts, giving her tail someplace to go other than just over the elastic waist. He didn't realize how much the other students made fun of it. Jody had called it a 'butt-flap' and now all of the others were starting to use the term as well. But she didn't want to hurt her father's feelings . . . He was trying as hard as he could, but he just didn't understand.
Her once bulky gray sweatshirt was tightening around her upper body as her muscles bulged and strained under her loosening furry lupine skin. Black fur poked out at odd angles around the cuffs of the shirt as she continued to very decidedly scribble notes down in her notebook: mostly skulls and crossbones, and an occasional lily that she had learned to draw in art class. Her hand cramped, fingers bulging into paws, fur racing down her padded digits as her nails sharpened into thick black claws. It made her hands tense enough that her pencil cracked in the middle with a snap.
Tony's blue eyes went wide as he stared back at her.
She nervously swept the pencil halves away into her stationary case, taking out a sturdier pen, ears folding back morosely. Tony, the quiet kid who lived in the same apartment as her, suddenly turned back around to face the front. Carol opened her mouth, wanting to say that it wasn't him, it was just the changes that . . . But as she looked up Mrs. Mcgregor cocked a bushy eyebrow at her, pursing her lips before continuing the lesson. Carol slumped back in her chair, running a paw over her muzzle as the office chair squeaked under her increasing weight.
There was a sudden sharp pain in her feet as she looked down, reaching under the desk to pry her sandals off as her toes grew thick leathery pads. She banged her knee on the desk, yelping as she hit her funny bone, tingles lancing up her spine as she scraped off her other sandal before looking up.
The class was all turned back to look at her as Mrs. Mcgregor shook her head and crossed her arms.
"If you are all quite ready to stop watching Miss Quinn, we still have the legislative branch to cover . . ." Her shrill voice rang in Carol's ears as she sighed through thin black canine lips and let her head sink onto her huge crossed arms. She could hear the whispers starting again as she folded her ears back and imagined what it would be like to be normal.