Presentation Day

The mornings before presentation day, Phoebe took the back way around school. She would count her steps, avoiding the cracks in the paving stones, until she found the old she-oak that exploded through the dehydrated earth with sprawling roots and raised its dusty limbs high above the chicken wire fence. The bark was worn around the choice knots and kinks in its body - the leaves jingling on their stiff little twigs, and Phoebe remembered each one of them like riding a bike. She would choose the branch that swung perpendicular to the school fence, the one that overlooked the city, and she would watch the sun glint off the glass and metal until it blinded her.

So imagine her surprise when one Summer Tuesday she ran all the way from the moment her mother opened the car door on the way to work, leaping over the dusty greenery spidering its way across the path, and letting the wind of her speed flatten her uniform against her body, only to find herself staring up at the embossed flowers decorating someone else’s shoes.

After a moment of breathless panting and speechless discovery, her gut began to knit itself into tangles. She dug furrows in her brow and made tight little boulders of her fists, staring at the black shoes attached to a pair of thin legs wearing socks and a navy blue skirt; shoes which swung now in an alternating rhythm and belonged to a body hidden higher in the tree by layers of leaves and radiating branches.

She took a deep breath, puffing out her chest as far as it would go, and then a little further to the point of pain. She held the air briefly, then let go in a long, loud hiss. Phoebe rolled and flexed her tongue against the inside of her teeth, rehearsing her words as they ran through her mind, then purposely cleared her throat as noisily as she could.
“H-hey!”

She waited, but to her chagrin received no response. If the other girl in the tree heard her, she gave no sign, and Phoebe’s heart clenched softly at the possibility she was being ignored.

“E-excuse me!”

It was her own typically hot head that made her teeth and fists clench in frustration bordering on rage. How very, very rude. This was her tree. She had been there first - so she knew with the possessive certainty of past experience and, in truth, never having been proved wrong. She scrambled up its trunk easily, and quickly spotted the intruder riding the thickest branch to learn towards the fence like a horse saddle.

Phoebe approached the girl from behind, and scowled to notice the grey cord of headphones beating against her thigh, synchronized with the movement of her feet. Without a second thought, she reached out and tapped the other girl several times in the shoulder.
The other girl whipped her head around, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, and yanked the buds out of her ears.

“Huh?”

Phoebe maintained her stern expression as she said:

“Y-ou’re in my s-spot.”

The other girl blinked, apparently mystified. “I’m sorry, are we not allowed up here?”

Phoebe’s eyes slid to examine the dirt under her fingernails.

“W-well, n-no...but this is my s-spot.”

The girl tilted her head to one side. “I’m sorry, but it’s a pretty big tree. Don’t you think we could share?”

A twisting sensation in Phoebe’s gut suddenly intensified - “N-n-no!”
The other girl’s face fell. “Oh.”

Phoebe felt a moment of satisfaction, but watched as the other girl paused in the middle of pulling both legs back up onto the branch to cast a wistful glance behind her. Phoebe followed her gaze, only to wince as a white glare flashed across her eyes.

It was the sun was rising over the city.

“W-wait.”

The other girl paused in the difficult maneuver back down to the fork, and looked back at Phoebe curiously.

Phoebe swallowed hard, but the city’s light warmed her back and arm.

“I d-don’t remember seeing y-you around at s-school,” she said.

The other girl nodded. “I’m starting today.”

Phoebe was puzzled. “B-but w-why are you h-here, then? Sh-shouldn’t you be s-somewhere else m-making friends?”

The other girl sighed. “No one’s going to want to make friends with me, I don’t think.”

“W-why not?”

The other girl gave a reluctant half smile. “My mum’s the new principal.”

Phoebe could only stare. Then she laughed, wrinkling her nose. “Th-that’s t-terrible.”

“I know!”

Phoebe watched the reflected light play on the top of her hand as it filtered through the leaves.

“Y-you know...I g-guess we should just share.”

The other girl grinned, and Phoebe did too.