Chapter 2
Right. Left. Right. Left.
That’s what it takes. Not to perform some kind of extraordinary, incredible, complex maneuver, but to get Kara Danvers through the day without falling flat on her face in the middle of a crowded high school hallway, where kids your own age are ruthless and will do nothing but look at the anguish in your eyes as you go tumbling down to make it to your date with the floor (trust her, she knows.) She wished Alex was still here. Not that Alex was gone gone, like dead, heck no. Alex was just off to college, because that’s what big sisters do. They turn 18 and find a girlfriend and go off with said girlfriend to college and only go as far as to write letters to their struggling baby sisters. So maybe Kara was a little bitter that one of her only friends (do sisters even count as friends?) had left and she was basically on her own. Okay, she has Winn, but Winn is literally the exact same person as Kara, and that doesn’t help any situation at all, because Kara sucks in any situation at all.
Right. Left. Right. Left. Lef-
And there goes the textbooks. And the folders. And her pencil case. And her.
Hey floor, what’s good?
Normally, these exchanges with the floor go unnoticed. Well, not necessarily unnoticed. People are certainly well aware of the awkward, cardigan-clad, socially deprived child sprawled on the dirty floor. What she means is that nobody bothers to interact with the situation. Kara thinks of it as a good thing.
And she was about to get up, but then something hits her head, probably a foot, now that she thinks about it, and her glasses go skidding across the floor.
“Oh my actual god I just kicked a child in the head.” She heard the surprisingly surprised voice from above her (c’mon, you would think that someone would notice a human on the floor.)
But it sounded sincere enough. Ok so maybe that wasn’t out of the natural cruelty of the human race. Kara thought to herself, her head throbbing just a wee bit.
“Are you alright...Kara?” (Kara’s not sure if the culprit realized that her breath hitched just the tiniest bit at Kara’s name coming out of her mouth, and Kara’s not sure how she even noticed that when she found herself staring into really, surprisingly intense green eyes.) The moment didn’t last long, because both of their attentions were drawn elsewhere when they heard the unmistakable sound of glasses. Not just any regular glasses. Glasses that were currently being trampled over. Kara almost winced at the sound. She’s had those glasses for 7 years. How her eyesight hasn’t managed to get any worse at all, she doesn’t know. But aside from that fact, they were somewhat sentimental to Kara. Don’t ask her why, because she doesn’t know for sure. But sometimes a girl just gets unintentionally emotionally invested in the little contraption that helped her see the world. So much for the world when even the girl’s (who was but a foot away from Kara’s own face) features were blurred (Kara wasn’t sure that she meant to pout at that fact.)
“Hey, maybe you should like, get up,” the girl whispered hurriedly, she was probably more embarrassed by the fact that she was currently associating with Kara than she was with the fact that she had just kicked Kara in the head. Which made complete sense (to Kara, anyways.)
“Oh. Yeah. Right. Getting up.” Kara hefted herself up from the floor, seeming relatively unfazed, (she was tougher than she let on,) and dusted off her pastel blue cardigan. Kara noted how the girl across from her quirked an eyebrow, and at first she thought it might be because she was a judgemental person, and totally being judgy about Kara’s choice of fashion. Then she realized how heavily she was squinting (she was the proud owner of the worst eyesight in the world) and also noted that she was leaning into the girl, not for any other purpose than to see her face clearly, but of course, Kara doubted that she realized that. It was a rather awkward silence, (what are you supposed to say after tripping over your own foot and then getting kicked in the head?) but the other girl spoke up.
“Aren’t you Kara? Danvers? I believe you live right across from me,” (her neighbor? Kara was 87% sure that she’s never seen this girl in her life.)
Kara’s mouth formed an “ooh” shape, but no sound actually came out. Which was weird. Make a noise, Kara!
“O-oh. Erm. Yes. That’s me. Kara Danvers,” she held out a hand, “but you already knew that. Obviously.” She retracted a hand. She honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the girl let out a nervous chuckle and backed away slowly.
Instead, the girl let out a smile. A surprisingly genuine one considering it was only carried out through one half of her mouth (is it weird that Kara’s already awkward stance faltered just a little bit more?)
“Lena. And I think I owe you an apology and a seeing eye dog, or something.”