“Good morning, class,” announced Mrs Rich as she pushed open the door and allowed the children to enter.
“Good morning, Mrs Rich,” said the class, following one another inside.
Kay took her seat at the back left corner and looked out of the window as the register was called.
“Kevin Arthur…”
“Here,” squeaked a boy from the front.
“Amy Beech…”
“And look at that horrible hairband she’s wearing!” Margaret’s voice made Kay flinch.
“I heard she got her shoes from a dump yard!” The comments continued as the teacher called the rest of the register.
“Has that girl even heard of a brush?”
“SHUT UP!” Kay roared suddenly, at the top of her lungs.
“I beg your pardon?” gasped Mrs Rich from the front of the classroom. “Go outside at once, young lady!” shouted the teacher.
Kay walked out of the classroom and slumped in the corridor, tears beginning to creep down her cheeks.
After a while, the door opened and Kay scrambled to her feet, wiping her face with her sleeve. The teacher looked at her with sympathy.
“Kay, what’s wrong?” she asked gently. “Why are you acting like this today?” Kay felt tears roll down her face again.
“Everyone hates me.”
“And why do they hate you?”
“Because I’m different from them.”
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with being different,” Mrs Rich replied kindly. “It’s the people who are different that make a difference in this world, Kay. Just you remember that.” She smiled and held out her hand to lead Kay back into the classroom.
Kay took hold of the teacher’s hand and walked quickly to her desk, looking at no one. She ignored Margaret’s sniggers, as Mrs Rich’s words had helped put her at ease. Later that day, Mrs Rich decided to teach a spelling lesson.
“Kay, how do you spell ‘friend’?” Mrs Rich’s voice interrupted Kay’s thoughts.
“Em… F… R… E… N… D,” she guessed.
“No, not quite,” responded the teacher.
“Margaret, do you know the answer?” Margaret sat up in her chair and smirked at Kay.
“Yes, Mrs Rich, F. R. I. E. N. D,” she said politely.
“Correct,” Mrs Rich said, turning back to her board.
Margaret then leant in Kay’s direction and whispered cruelly, “Maybe if you had friends, you’d know how to spell it.”
The rest of the day passed quickly, and Kay and Rob met their mother standing outside the school gates. As she ushered them to the car, she asked how their day had been. Rob shrugged.
“It was all right,” he told her.
“What about you, Kay?” she enquired.
“Fine,” Kay muttered as they drove off.
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