Feenix was in full noise mode—boots clacking, jewelry clinking, coat flapping. As everybody knew, Feenix had a thing about this coat. In school, she carried around a fake doctor’s note which said she should be allowed to wear it as she was prone to something called ‘hypothermatics” and could have a heart attack if she got too cold. Mr. Ross laughed when he read this and didn’t bother her about the coat again. Now she sat down with a flourish and slammed her books on the table. She looked around the room defiantly and shook her mane of dark rough hair back. One of her eyes was slightly higher than the other. It wasn’t all that noticeable, but when she smiled that higher eye seemed to lift up a fraction of an inch and it startled people. Somebody else might have been given a lot of trouble about a thing like this, but people gave Feenix trouble at their own risk. Sometimes she inked a picture next to this eye—an animal or odd design. Brigit was pretty sure she did this to distract people from the asymmetry. Plus, she liked to see how far she could get through the day before their principal, Ms. Trevino, caught her and made her wash it off. Today she had painted what looked like a small blue lightning bolt. The bell rang and Mr. Ross bowed to the class and waited for silence. Then he spoke in a hushed solemn voice. “Are you ready? Shall we continue with our courageous and daring journey down the digestive system?” When no one answered he turned to the smartboard and clicked on a photo of a slippery pink and tangled mass of intestine. “What are we looking at?” Feenix’s hand shot up. He nodded at her. She pointed at the daffodil behind his ear. “What’s with the flower?” Brigit and everybody else knew that this was another game Feenix played. She would try to keep Mr. Ross off topic for as long as possible. Mr. Ross was a person who was easily led off onto other topics.
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