Shattered Crown (The Shattered Crown #1)

Aria

The anatomical model stared back at me with its cross-sectioned uterus on full display. Twenty-three twelve-year-old girls stared at it too, most of them looking like they wanted the floor to swallow them whole. Safe to say that I felt the same way, too.

I didn’t quite enjoy this part of the job. But unfortunately, I’d agreed to come in before taking a look at the lesson notes for today. I’ll forever live to regret that decision.

"So," I cleared my throat and tapped the ovary with my pointer, "this is where the magic happens. And by magic, I mean the monthly reminder that your body is doing exactly what it's supposed to do, even when it feels like it’s betraying you."

A few nervous giggles filled the air. I would laugh, too, but that would be horribly inappropriate. I’m here to help these girls understand their bodies better.

If only I understood mine.

It would be correct to assume that my feminine parts had a mind of their own. I’d accepted that a while ago. Doesn’t mean I liked it.

One girl in the front row rolled her eyes. She looked bored. I didn’t blame her. I wasn’t a very inspiring teacher.

I moved through the room, weaving between desks as I spoke about all the ways a woman’s body changes within the month. My eyes traveled over the girls. It was hard to see past the navy blue uniforms, but I always liked to pay close attention.

By doing that, though, I couldn’t help but notice that they didn’t seem the least bit interested. Some of them sat with their legs crossed at the ankle, chins lifted, while others were hunched forward, arms folded across their chests.

Except one girl in particular. She hadn't moved since I'd started the lesson. She sat by the window. From the way she was staring out, I knew she wanted to be anywhere but here in the classroom. I wasn’t sure if she was just uncomfortable with the topic or the class in general.

“Miss Kealoha? Can we talk about something else?” I drew my attention away from the girl by the window to the one directly in front of her. Her thick, dark eyebrows were scrunched together in an intense frown. “The topic is kinda gross.”

I sighed and moved back to the board. “No, we can’t. We have to learn this today.”

“Why? I mean, I already know all about it,” the rolling-eyes girl in the front row added. “I’ve gotten my period already, so this is old news to me. You should pay attention to Evie, though.” She pointed at the girl by the window. “She has a few more years before she gets to that stage.”

The entire class burst into laughter. Evie cowered, shrinking into herself even more.

Oh, I thought. She was the one. We always had at least one in each year. I had one in mine. She’d tried to bully me, and I’d shown her exactly where she could stick it.

I gave the girl another look. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a perfect clone of Regina George. My eyes drifted, searching for her sidekicks. And just as I expected, there were two others, flanking each side of her.

Typical.

I leaned down and smiled sweetly. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

She exchanged a look with her girls. “Madison.”

“Madison. I think it’s lovely you’ve had this experience, and it just happens to make my job easier.”

She smirked. “Really?”

“Of course. Now, I don’t have to do a practical session when you can break it down for the entire class.” I turned to look at everyone. “Please, give Madison here a round of applause as she tells us all about her period.” I looked at Madison again. “Go on. And please don’t spare any details.”

“I…” she stammered. She remained seated, eyes flickering between me and her sidekicks. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Are you sure? This is your chance to educate others.”

We stared at each other for a second. I saw the moment it clicked that I was toying with her. She frowned. She hadn’t expected me to corner her that way. Maybe their actual teacher allowed her to have her way. But not while I was in charge.

I shrugged. “It seems Madison is a little shy. We’ll move on to other topics.”

Madison was no longer looking at me. Her eyes were fixed on Evie. I recognized the predatory manner in which she was staring at her. If I didn’t get control of this classroom soon, Madison was going to pull a mean stunt.

"Miss Kealoha?" A hand shot up near the window. It was the same dark-haired girl. "Is it true that periods attract sharks?"

I waited for a reaction from the class. I expected at least a few snickers, laughs, maybe a “boo” or two, and the usual snide remark from Madison. But there was nothing. Everyone was eerily quiet. Almost as if they were waiting for something to happen.

"Only if you're swimming in shark-infested waters while bleeding profusely from an open wound," I said. "Your period? Sharks couldn't care less. They've got better things to do. Like being sharks."

And then, just as I’d been waiting for, I saw Madison lean over to whisper something to the girl to her left. They both glanced toward the window. Toward Evie.

I changed direction and positioned myself between Madison's line of sight and her target. "Madison, since you seem to have extra energy, why don't you read the next section aloud? Page forty-seven, it’s about hormonal changes. I’m sure you know all about that."

Her eyes flashed angrily at me. She knew exactly what I was doing. But she opened her textbook, found the page, and began reading in a flat monotone designed to convey maximum disinterest. I didn’t care. I was determined to hold off the incoming crisis for as long as possible.

I let her finish the paragraph before thanking her with a warmth I didn't feel.

The lesson continued. I kept my voice steady, my body language open, my attention split between the material and the invisible currents running through the room.

I fielded questions about cramps, about breast development, about why some girls got acne, and others didn't. Madison had a few things to say about that. I glanced at her acne-free face. Give it two years, honey, and those pimples will come knocking, I wanted to say. But I didn’t need to.

She’ll find out on her own. And when that day comes, there’ll be someone else waiting to overthrow her.

"Alright," I said, clapping my hands together. "Time for the hands-on portion. And before anyone panics, no one is touching anyone else. We're just going to examine some models and diagrams up close. Think of it as a museum exhibit for your body."

I gestured toward the tables I'd set up along the side of the room, each one displaying different educational materials.

Pamphlets about menstruation. Diagrams of developing bodies.

A basket of sample products. Pads, tampons, the works that I'd brought from the Foundation's health initiative supplies.

The girls migrated from their desks in clusters. Madison and her cohorts claimed the table nearest the door, giggling over a pamphlet about breast development. The quieter girls gravitated toward the products table, examining the unfamiliar items with a mixture of curiosity and dread.

Evie hadn't moved.

She didn’t look scared. The look in those distant brown eyes was disinterest. Her body was in the classroom, but her mind wasn’t. If only Madison could see how little Evie cared about her. But maybe that was the problem. Evie didn’t care about her at all, and Madison wasn’t used to that.

I circulated through the room, answering questions in low voices, normalizing the awkwardness one conversation at a time.

“Miss Kealoha? I haven’t gotten my period yet. My sister got hers at ten. When will that happen?” another girl asked.

I tore my gaze away from Evie. “Your body will decide when the time is right, honey. Just be patient.”

I turned back to the room just as Evie finally stood. She moved slowly, making her way toward the pamphlet table. I wasn’t sure what made her stand up, but I hoped it was genuine interest. The fact that everyone seemed to give her space made it clear that she wasn’t very liked here. But why?

Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention. I saw Madison exchange a look with her sidekicks, and then they started moving, heading straight for the pamphlet table. Evie’s head was down. She wasn’t watching where she was going or making eye contact with anyone.

My legs started moving. I knew exactly what was about to happen.

“Madison, get back to…”

Madison's elbow caught Evie's shoulder. My feet halted their movement at the sound of the collision.

Evie stumbled sideways. Her hip hit the corner of a desk.

I started moving again, but it was too late.

Evie reached for something to steady herself, but found only air.

Her head struck the edge of the adjacent desk on the way down.

“Evie!”

The sound of my voice seemed to bring her back to reality. She sat up, pressed her hand to her forehead, and it came away red, and the room fractured into noise.

I was already there. Three strides, maybe four, my knees hitting the floor beside her hard enough to bruise. The handkerchief came out of my pocket without conscious thought.

"You're okay," I said, pressing the fabric to the wound with firm pressure. "You're okay."

Brown eyes stared up at me. They went wide. Did you not expect me to help you? I thought. And then, slowly, tears began to stream down her cheeks.

She wasn’t making a single sound. Not even a whimper or a sob. Just crying without noise, like she’d trained herself to hide her pain.

I couldn’t understand why. Did nobody ever care for her? From the way she was looking at me, I could tell she wasn’t used to physical contact of any kind. My heart broke for her. Every child deserved love, no matter what.

"You," I said without pointing at the girl who had sat in front of Evie.

"Go to the nurse's office. Tell her we have a head wound and she needs to come now.

Walk quickly, don't run." She stared at the blood for a moment, then sprinted away.

"Everyone else, please return to your seats. Give us space."