Chapter Three: Jello! My Only Weakness!!!!

Annalise....just....Pure Annalise.

“The most important thing a bard will ever do in their life is leave their mark.” The professor lectures from the front of the classroom. It’s a very old-style classroom, with the masoned walls and a chalkboard at the front. Braziers similar to those in the main hall toss about the hues of blue, green, and violet, which, just like those in the main hall, cast bodacious colorful sparkles all over the stone walls- which apparently have small mica chips embedded in them. How is anybody supposed to focus surrounded by such astounding awesome? My leg is doing its little happy dance thing again beneath my desk, which is kind of irking the dude next to me- but hey, he can get over it. He’s lived with this his entire life (probably)- and I’m just now realizing that magic is real…..and it has sparkles!(lets face it, that’s the most important part)

“Who can tell me what ‘leaving their mark’ is?” Professor Nitterwick asks. Every single hand in the room raises….well…..except mine. Mine definitely does not raise. I have no idea what he’s talking about- which probably means I should be paying attention to him and not the glitter spastic walls. But….you know how it is….glitter…..

His eyes zone in on me and I wiggle as deeply back into my chair as I can- trying to make it seem like I had been paying attention the entire time- attention, as it turns out, is often the hardest thing for me to pay. I think I get a splinter in my little tushy- but I don’t say anything under his gaze.

“Who here knows at least fifty words of ancient power?”

Once again, every hand mechanically goes up. I squirm uncomfortably, I’ve never felt like such a dunce before- I feel like there’s a giant blinking arrow with neon lights pointing at my head shouting “Look! Look over here! This person right here is absolutely clueless! She’s such a dingbat!”. I am most certainly not a dingbat- I just…..I don’t know any of this stuff! Oh my lord I am a Dingbat! Somebody ring the bell in the belfry! Oh no wait- I’ll do that for you because I. Am. A. DINGBAT!

“Miss Rinaldi…” There’s absolutely no way he isn’t looking at me now- it’s like he’s a venomous snake and I’m some rather delicious looking little mouse- I really wish I could use this magic I supposedly have to turn into a mouse and scurry away right now….

“Do you know what a scriva is…?” He strides down the rows towards me, and I can feel my heartbeat quicken in my chest, as though it were trying to outdo the world’s fastest runner. The guy next to me smirks like such a know-it-all. His cloak is a dark green- honestly, it kind of reminds me of barf. But I’m too nice to say that to his face.

“N-No….” I can hardly squeak out the word I’m so terrified, I can feel something building inside- something I try to ram down but I know will break loose if he does what I think he’ll do next….and you know what? He does. He does exactly what I thought he would.

“Ms.Rinaldi, would you mind revealing what it is you DO KNOW?!” He shouts. And it happens, the worst thing in the world happens.

I blurt. It always happens when I get scared or intimidated- I just….talk. And I can’t stop it or control it- they just….it just….happens. Instead of getting super-cool fight or flight reflexes I get….blabbermouth. Because that totally stands up against a jaguar (or in this case, super-mean teacher). Thanks Biology. (and Brain)

“Isomers are molecules with the same molecular formula but differing structural formulas! The star spangled banner was originally a poem! You can survive stranded in the middle of the ocean with just two leaves, a tin can, and a coconut! Toothpaste is not safe to eat! Georgia is not the top peach-producing state in America! Don’t stop- believin’-”

No really sure what that last part was, but it was pretty derned catchy.

Unfortunately- catchiness did not seem to amuse Professor Nitterwick (or as I call him, Professor Nitwit -internally of course.) as much as it did the rest of my classmates, my face flushed as red as the blood of angry men when he clamped his knobby hand over my mouth- he really needed to...shave his knuckle hair or something, it was kind of creepy. But at the same time, it was the worst sort of embarrassment I had ever felt- ever. And then to top it all off-

“Miss Annalise would do well to remember she is here to learn. Not to be a human encyclopedia.” I wanted to shrivel up like a green bean and die…..

* * * * *

After class- all I really wanted to do was run away to my room and make a pillow fort that I could peacefully die inside, surrounded by my greatest companion and walls of neverending fluff and solitude. So that’s exactly what I did.

“Annalise…?” I hear Macy’s confused tone as she enters her dorm to find the igloo of poofles (what I call pillows- another word for the dictionary!) built entirely to scale, with a sealed off entrance using the biggest plushiest poofle I could find. Her voice is muffled by the padded walls, but I can still clearly understand her.

“What are you doing in there…?” I hear her feet shuffle as she scoots around the perimeter of the poofle igloo. “Why did you make a….pillow fort?”

“Igloo.” I interject sternly. “This is clearly an igloo. And I apologize, but Annalise is not home right now.” I glare at the entrance of the igloo, hugging Sir Snuffles to my chest.

“Oh really….?” She asks slowly, I can almost hear her smiling- and I want to throw something at her. Unfortunately, throwing something would also ruin my creation.

“Yes really.”

“Then who am I speaking to, If I am permitted to ask?”

“You are not permitted to ask. Like I said, Annalise is not home right now. You can leave a message if you want.”

“Oh, alright.” I can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Would you mind asking Annalise where she got all of these pillows from?”

“She may have raided all of the closets in the supply rooms.” I state. I felt a little bad now, because nobody else could grab an extra poofle if they needed it- but in my worthlessness I wasn’t really thinking about that.

“Uh-huh. And would you also ask her why she made a pillow...igloo?”

“Because she is very upset.” I admit glumly.

“And would she care to say why she’s locked herself up in there?”

“She would not.”

“And why an igloo, exactly?”

“Because. Igloos are fun. Eskimos can live and die in igloos. I think it a worthy place to wallow and die too.” I state with a curt nod, not that she could see it.

“Hah!” She jeers, “You admit it is you in there!”

“Na-uh.”

“Yes, you did. You just said it.”
“No I didn’t.”

Macy lets out an exasperated sigh, “Well I guess if she doesn’t come out soon she’ll miss dinner…..”

“She doesn’t want dinner.” I mumble, hugging Snuffles even tighter.

“That’s too bad, we’re having Jello for dessert tonight…..” She says with a long drawl, starting to make her way towards the door.

“But….jello is my favorite dessert…..It’s like a confused solid that wants to be a liquid!”

“Oh, I know….” I hear her turn the door handle and I grudgingly poke my head out of the poofle entrance, pushing down the large “door”.

“What kind of jello....?”