Maggie and Orangio Part 1: skipping school
Maggie is a seven-year-old child standing up to bullies. She is also a venomous star-flower. Orangio is a gloomy teen singer. They are both skipping school today, and Maggie is on the run.
Orangio walked slumped like he was carrying a giant boulder, tossing his feet forward as if he didn’t care whether they landed on the pavement. Every now and then, he sighed loudly, glancing around. He was not happy that day. His mates had dumped him for band practice that evening; now he’d have to decide whether to let the hours pass at the arcade or to hide away in his room for the rest of the day. And he had run out of coins for the arcade. Orangio threw a piece of gum in his mouth and started chewing loudly, still walking. He reluctantly headed home, the long way around. He gave a particularly ferocious chew, thinking of his mates and their excuses to skip practice. The Black Holes would never make it big if they kept slacking like that. What would a stupid math test matter when they reached fame? High school was for losers anyway. Orangio turned the corner, and something crashed into his legs so hard he almost fell on his back.
Maggie’s day had started well, with a bowl of her favourite cereals, Honey Comets, and her mum gently combing her spikes. Her mum combed her spikes every morning and sprayed them gently with Shiny Star Serum to keep them vibrant. She then stroked her magenta petals and puffed them up one by one. Maggie was proud of her petals, which looked just like her mum’s. She loved to hear the story of when she was born, a tiny star bud, her crumpled closed petals the same colour as now. School was going well too; she had gotten five stars on her drawings of asteroids and four on her math. Then, during the break, Maggie’s day suddenly took a turn.
She was playing on the swings with her friends, twin stars Kay and Jimmy, when they heard a commotion from the other side of the playground, next to the sandbox for the little ones. Maggie jumped down from the swing and ran towards the noise, followed by the twins. The first thing they saw was Cricket. Cricket’s name was actually Stephen, and he was a couple of years older than Maggie. He bragged constantly because his parents were two Supergiant stars. He and his friends called themselves the Supers and pulled constant pranks on the younger kids, like putting bugs in their backpacks. Sure enough, Cricket was there with his minions, towering over three or four smaller stars who looked close to tears. Maggie glanced in the direction of the building, but no teacher was in sight. Kay saw her look around. ‘I’ll go call Ms Brown,’ she said, and headed towards the school, followed by Jimmy. Maggie waded her way through the kids gathering around, until she reached the sandbox. She recognised some of the children inside; they had to be about five, a couple of years younger than her.
‘That’s right, go cry to your mum and daddy. Your parents are losers anyway, like all blue giants.’
‘What did you say, Cricket?’
‘Huh?’
Cricket turned around, saw Maddie, and went white. Well, whiter than his normal lunar complexion. Even though he was about three times as big, Cricket was terrified of Maggie. She walked towards him, stopping right between him and the starlings. She nonchalantly stroked her spikes, staring at him.
‘What was it that you said to Chloe, Cricket? Something about her parents?’
He grunted, looking at her with eyes full of contempt until Glimmer, one of his minions, put her hand on his arm and said: ‘Come on, Stevie, let’s go. They’re not worth it.’ She looked at Maggie. ‘Let the freaky child hang with the losers instead.’ Silence fell, heavy as a rock. Then Cricket snickered, and they turned to leave.
Maggie’s spikes stood on end. ‘What did you call me?’ She shouted at Glimmer, who turned back with a grin.
‘A freak. A dangerous freak. Your parents should cut those spikes out.’
‘I love my spikes, ‘cause they scare people like you, Glimmer!’
‘Yeah, right,’ mocked her Glimmer, then gestured to the audience, ‘Your spikes scare everyone, Freak. Everyone is afraid of you.’ Maggie looked around. A wide, empty circle around her. A big space people had left as she walked up to the front. Most of the other children were looking away now. Chloe in the sandbox stared at her, wide-eyed. Out of the corner of the eye, Maggie saw the twins run back with their teacher, who shouted:
‘Enough! Everyone back to class now. Maggie, you… Maggie!’
Maggie ran towards the other side of the playground, and the other starlings moved away from her path. She got to the courtyard’s gate. It was locked, and she could hear quick footsteps getting closer. Maggie grabbed one of her spikes, jammed it in the lock and moved up and down until she heard a click. She opened the gate and ran without turning back. Glimmer’s words were echoing in her head, and she just kept running. Until she turned a corner, bumped hard against a skinny pair of legs who exclaimed ‘Ow! Watch where you’re going, idiot!’ and fell on her back.
Orangio rubbed his shins and looked at the bundle who had crashed into him. It appeared to be a little girl with a massive head of petals and… spikes? The little girl looked at him, then behind her. Orangio remembered he was close to the school. Could this be one of his mum’s children? He scratched his pointy forehead. The kid looked like she was crying.
‘Hey,’ said Orangio, ‘are you from the school?’ She was on her feet now, and tried to slip away, but he caught her by the arm. ‘Not so fast, Cactus Head.’ She opened her mouth, surely to scream, so Orangio spoke fast. ‘We can hide in that café over there. I’m also skipping school.’ She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. ‘I don’t know your name, and you called me an idiot.’ Orangio let go of her arm. ‘Yeah, sorry about that. And I’m… Orangio.’ This is stupid, he thought. I should just let the teachers find her. He groaned and looked away. ‘Fine, stay on the pavement then, I’m sure nobody will notice a kid standing here by herself.’ He turned, heading towards the café, then felt a hand take his. ‘I’m Maggie.’ She grunted. Orangio sighed. Babysitting was not what he had in mind for the day.