Monday 11 a.m. October 3rd

Wouldn't it be nice if sharing water was all it took to fit in? Of all the books she could've grabbed at random in her dad's collection, Jordan was in awe that she'd chosen the one that directly matched her own situation. It was about a human raised on Mars, raised in a completely different culture, and then thrust back onto Earth where he is different than anyone else even though he is a human just like them. In Martian culture, sharing water was enough to become brothers or sisters with another person, and religion included every living organism not random factions. She wished everyone had read this book, or at least everyone in this town. She smirked to herself, because she knew that somehow her dad left this book just for her. Even when he is gone, he is still there for me.

"Jordan Bryant, we're waiting," Ms. Essex said in an exasperated tone.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Essex could you repeat the question?" Jordan asked, even though she wasn't actually sorry.

"If you'd been paying attention instead of reading, maybe you would know the answer," she said curtly.

"Maybe you're right, and maybe I've decided that paying attention doesn't really do me any good. It doesn't seem to matter what I do, you still are going to treat me like a problem. I may as well enjoy myself," Jordan said in a polite tone of voice.

Ms. Essex smiled. The skin of her face seemed strained as if the act of smiling had pulled her face into a new and foreign position. Her thin-pointed features threatened to break through the skin her features were so pinched. It was really quite hideous. Ms. Essex knew she had won, and Jordan had let her.

"I don't know how they do things where you're from dear the way she said dear managed to feel like an insult, but around here we do not treat our teachers with such disrespect. I'm afraid I have no choice but to send you to the office." she said.

For some reason, Jordan didn't realize the punishment would go to this extreme. She'd always thought of herself as a good kid. Was this place changing her into what everyone else already thought she was? A problem. She sat there not sure what she should even bring to the principal's office. Would she need her bag and book or could she leave it here? She didn't even know if she was coming back.

"Did something I said confuse you Ms. Bryant?"

"N.... N.... No Ma'am," Jordan stuttered all fight out of her system.

She hurriedly stuffed all of her things into her bag and strode out of the room with all the dignity that she could muster. When the door closed behind her, the floodgates let loose. A mixture of sad, frustrated, and angry tears rushed unbidden down Jordan's cheeks. I wouldn't be water brothers with her if she were the last person on Earth or Mars! The lights above Jordan's head started flickering as if her sudden anger had startled them awake, and they were blinking the sleep from their eyes.

Jordan looked over her shoulder to see if anyone else was in the hallways to see what was happening. Meanwhile, the blinking of the lights increased in intensity. She couldn't tell, but each time they turned back on they appeared more dim than they had the time before as if their life force was being drained. That's when she felt it; the same feeling she had felt in the car. It was almost as if the air around her was charged with the force of her emotions. With each passing second, the ambient energy seemed to thicken, and she instinctively knew that is not something that she wanted to happen. How did I get rid of it in the car? An image of a melted door handle flashed in her mind. She had an idea.

In the remaining light, Jordan surveyed her surroundings looking for something she could use. Whatever was in the air was wild and wanted to run free, all she needed to do was give it somewhere to go. Her knowledge of electricity was next to zero, but she felt like brick could probably take a beating. With eyes clenched shut, Jordan extended her palm and placed it on the brick wall.

Jordan provided the outlet it needed. In unison, the air around her surged towards her in one fluid motion. At that moment, Jordan Bryant was one with the universe; a force of pure nature. Lightning flowed through her veins seeking a place to run free. Less than an instant had transpired before it flowed through Jordan and into the now steaming wall. She gingerly removed her hand fearing that it may have been melded into the wall from the intensity of the heat. Instead, a black handprint was scarred into the wall; an ironic memento from the only black girl in school.

The room returned to its normal lighting, reminding Jordan of where she was. She looked over her shoulder again praying that no one had seen. A small figure with their back turned to Jordan retreated back down the hallway. They were wearing a tie dye backpack. Why'd it have to be Derek? The only boy who even looks at me like a normal girl. She thought and sprinted down the hallway to the principal's office in a panic.

Despite her mad dash into the reception area, the ladies behind the desk kept their cool and told her to take a seat the principal would be with her shortly. They weren't wrong. Right as Jordan plopped onto a chair, the door that read "Mr. Kinghorn" swung inward, and the words "Don't be shy, come on in!" filled the reception area. She could have been mistaken, but they sounded genuinely inviting, not the artificial sweetness she had grown accustomed to.

In the small amount of time Jordan had been sitting, she had lost all her energy. The hallway incident had drained something vital, and her body was paying for it. Jordan lurched out of the comfy reception chair and walked into the lion's den.

"Shut the door behind you, will ya?' Mr. Kinghorn, the principal, asked.

"Uhhhh sure," Jordan said.

She didn't know what she had expected of a principal's office, but it wasn't this. The walls of the room were riddled with cheesy posters telling students to "Hang in there" or "You miss 100% of the shots you don't take." Mr. Kinghorn's desk was equal parts children's puzzles and pictures of what Jordan assumed were his wife and two daughters. Perhaps the most surprising of it all were the bookshelves on either side of the room. They weren't stuffy books or ones about being a good teacher or princiPAL; they were books that Jordan had seen before. If she were to unpack the boxes of her dad's things, She would bet that over half of these books were also in his collection.

"Take a seat kiddo, what brings you to my domain?" he asked.

Jordan looked into the principal's eyes behind the spectacles perched on the tip of his nose and knew that he was different. Warmth radiated off of him in waves. It didn't matter if Jordan was covered in piercing from head to toe and had purple skin, he would still be looking at her that same way. She found that she really didn't want to tell him what she had done. The last thing she wanted to do was see a look of disappointment replace that kind smile.

"Come on now, I don't bite," he winked.

Jordan launched into the events that had gotten her ejected from Ms. Essex's classroom with perfect recall. Not a single word was omitted from her account; she hated liars. Throughout her entire story, he looked at her with that same smile and waited patiently for her to finish.

"You're too smart for your own good kid."' he chuckled. Her dad used to say that to her.

Jordan couldn't help but smile, "Sometimes, sir."

"Now I've got to do the principal thing. That's why they pay me the big bucks. I know Mrs. Essex has a foot long stick stuck up her you know what, but that doesn't mean you get to say whatever you want. If you want to earn the respect of others, then you need to give them respect in turn regardless of how they treat you. That's just life kiddo. Now, I know it won't happen again, but I'm still going to have you eat lunch with me for the next week as punishment. Let's call it detention shall we?

Jordan did her best to contain her excitement and said, "Yes, sir."

"Before I kick you out of here, do you want any water?" he asked.

The words "water-brother" fluttered through Jordan's head. 

SaintCole here,

Jordan always reading in class is something that I personally did when I was a youngster that teachers hated to no end. Also, Mrs. Essex is based on a horrendous teacher that I had to deal with as a fifth grader. It was a blast writing my own version of her.

Every time somebody doesn't vote, a butterfly dies. Save the butterflies!

Alright guys, what do you think of Jordan's ability? More harm than good? Do we like Mr. Kinghorn?