Two Halves Series by Marta Szemik

schooled until last year. Everyone had treated me like a toddler, ostracizing me in all imaginable ways, laughing constantly at my round-cheeked, childlike face and my small hands. Mira and Xander defended me. For some reason, others kept their distance from the siblings, the same way they now did with me.
    We weren’t brave enough (well, perhaps Xander was) to sit in the back with the cool kids. Even so, the catcalls came:
    “Sarah, your kindergarten teacher called. They missed you on attendance.”
    “Xander doesn’t have to climb the tree. He’s as tall as one!”
    “Let’s declare a masquerade every day! Mira can hide her pimples that way!”
    And these comments came from the nicer kids.
    “Hi, guys!” I said to the siblings, dropping my knapsack in the first row.
    Kneeling on the seat, I leaned over the back to face my friends. My limbs were not cooperating today; my arms waved in different directions and my thighs and calves tensed and relaxed periodically, all on their own. I felt like a chimpanzee on cocaine, except my narcotic this morning was adrenaline.
    “Hey, Sarah, did you pack your bug spray?” Xander asked. He was like an older brother with occasional slips into father-like behaviour—not that I knew what that was like.
    “Two full cans,” I answered.
    “Well, I have an extra one if you run out,” he offered, winking at me. Xander was beginning to make me feel uncomfortable. The corners of his mouth were always up, showing off his white teeth. If I dropped something, he would pick it up. And the way he glanced at me from across the class all the time, grinning—awkward. Mira said it was a phase boys go through. I hoped it would pass soon, and I would have my friend back.
    “What’s going on at the back?” I focused on the last three rows. Although I could hear the electrifying discussion clearly, I still had to pretend to be clueless.
    “They’re talking about that bear attack again,” Xander said. “Don’t worry. If he comes back, I’ll protect you.” His smile faded. He wasn’t joking.
    “Xander, I’m sure if he comes by, I’ll outrun you so he’ll just have to settle for seconds.”
    Mira almost spit out the soda she was sipping. Bubbles formed around her nostrils.
    “Ha. Ha,” Xander said, his tone flat. “We’ll see who gets the last laugh.”
    I glanced over at Mira as if to ask what’s up with him? She shrugged.
    “Turn around or you’ll draw attention,” he said, and just in time, too; I heard someone in the back say, “Freak,” under her breath. I couldn’t pinpoint who it was, but it didn’t matter.
    “Okay, okay.” I slumped in the hot seat.
    The trip to Shoshone National Park took just over two hours. It was a silent ride for the three of us, but a lot louder in the back. I heard everything that was being said, and I wished Mira and Xander had the same ability I had. How much fun would it be to be in on all the jokes? Thankfully, not another word was spoken about us.
     
    * * *
    The tents rose in the forest clearing before sunset. Four students were assigned to each one; Mira, Xander, and I were left to have our own. The three of us were like family so no one objected to our shelter being co-ed. Using half the can, I sprayed a solid coat of bug repellent all over my body.
    It wasn’t too long before the tall flames of a campfire danced within a circle of logs supporting students as we listened to Mr. Boyle’s “scary” stories. I wondered how frightened my classmates would be if they knew what I was. The few stars in the sky did not provide enough light to find a clear path in the thick woods around us.
    I had a harmonious link with nature and heard everything that went on in the forest. Three mice roamed their tunnels twenty yards away; a raccoon fifty yards to the east paused, perhaps contemplating when it would be safe enough to begin his nightly scavenging; a night owl on a frail branch on the third spruce to the right ruffled its feathers in