Fifteen Years Earlier

It was stuffy that day with all the windows tightly shut and the desks pushed together in cramped groups of four. The lights were dimmed and the air conditioning buzzed from the corner with a steady “sshhhh.” There were three boys in my group: Rory, Kyle, and Isiah. We were going into our next unit on world geography where we studied foods and animals and music of different places.

It didn’t seem fair to me though because all the other groups got to have at least two girls in them.

I was in the only group with all boys and me. I had a feeling it was because Rory and Kyle were the loudest kids in the class and I wasn’t. Isiah was nice too, and I never understood why nice kids had to be paired with the loud ones. My classmate’s keeper I suppose.

Our teacher, Mrs. Stevenson, was beginning our afternoon lesson and everyone was drowsy from Friday’s pizza and a recess spent soaking up the early fall heat. I had spent that recess tucked away behind the big oak tree with Kelsey O’Neal who liked the ocean more than anything and would sometimes play with me if she wasn’t playing with her two best friends.

Kelsey was best friends with Blake and Victoria, but Victoria was out that day so Kelsey pretended to be mermaids with me outside in the grass. I tried not to think about how she wouldn’t play with me otherwise. I tried not to think about how she got to have two best friends and I got none.

Kelsey was whispering to Blake in the seat next to her when Mrs. Stevenson turned on the projector across the vast plain white sheet and cleared her throat.

“We’re going to start with Africa today, can anyone tell me where the Nile river is?” She began without really looking at us.

I frowned at the projection. The map was a simple black and white one with big empty spaces and almost no labels except for a couple over mountain ranges and big rivers. There were no city dots.

However, there was a dark round smudge on the right side of the map. My eyes were drawn to it like an irritating eyelash caught in my vision. I knew it hadn’t been on the white sheet before the projector had turned on.

Was it a mountain? A landmark? A mistake?

My frown grew tighter and tighter and I couldn’t hear a single word that was coming out of Mrs. Stevenson’s mouth. I sat up perfectly straight and raised my hand.

I practiced the question a few times in my head before Mrs. Stevenson noticed. I rarely said anything in class, and almost never raised my hand-- even to use the bathroom. Mrs. Stevenson paused in her spiel about the majesty of the pyramids and adjusted her glasses.

She smiled in a private way. “Yes, Emily?” She looked pleased to call on me since I was one of those kids that almost never “contributed.”

I sat up even straighter, “Excuse me,” I shifted in place and my face was already burning from the sound of my own voice. “But what’s that spot on the map?” I asked evenly and pointed at the smudge in the middle of Russia.

It was just like the dot I saw years and years ago: small and dark and perfectly round. It bothered me in a way of stains on clean clothing and odd smells you can’t quiet place.

Mrs. Stevenson’s brow folded in, “that’s Russia.” She said as she followed my pointer finger.

“No,” I said and jabbed my finger harder, “inside of it.”

“Oh,” My teacher clapped her hands together, “that’s Siberia. Siberia is an enormous swath of land in the north with a wide range of natural beauties, including the tundra and the deepest lake in the--”

“No.” My voice pierced the air and a number of other students whipped their heads around to look at me as I took a hard tone. “What’s that dot in Siberia? The little black mark.”

My teacher’s mouth twitched and she stared back at me for a long moment. She smoothed her skirt down, “We have to get back to Africa now, Emily.” She said coolly, “If you have any more questions like that you can ask me after class.”

I folded in on myself as she said those frosty words and I glanced around. Why were they all staring at me? It was only after I overhead a harsh whisper that realized something was very wrong.

“What is she talking about?” Molly Robinson hissed to her neighbor and I bit down on my cheek.

'It’s right there,' I thought with a scowl, 'do they not care?'

I guessed they didn’t care.

The rest of the lesson passed in a blur and it was only after class that I scrambled out of my seat and toward Kelsey near the front. Kelsey was clearing out her desk and putting her colored pencils and worksheets in her teal backpack with lightning bolts on the bottom.

She didn’t look up as I appeared.

“Hey,” I said softly to get her attention. She still didn’t look up. “Mrs. Stevenson was so weird today.” I tried to mimic Kelsey’s tone when she talked to Blake. “Do you think she just doesn't know what the dot is?” I already knew by then that teachers hated not knowing things.

Kelsey glanced up and her expression was taut. “I dunno.” She said with a shrug, “I mean, what were asking?”

“Uh,” I scratched my chin. “About the smudge on the map. It’s not a big deal or anything, but I don’t see why--”

“What are you talking about?” Kelsey glanced over to the door and my skin prickled.

“Just about… the dot.”

“Uh, Emily,” she said slowly. “I’m not if this is you trying to tell a joke or something, but I’ll be honest it’s just kind of weird.”

I stood there with my mouth slowly falling open. “Joke?” My stomach fell into my shoes with a plummeting feeling. “No. I just…” Oh no.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gave a half-hearted wave and was gone.

And I was left to numbly stand there and wonder about my vision or my head or whether my whole class would play a prank on me. Or if there was no dot on the map to begin with, because either Kelsey had always hated me, or she couldn’t see it.

Somehow, none of those were good answers.