Description
Summary: An Invader Zim one-shot, part of a series of unusual pairings. A kind teacher talks with Gretchen.
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"Cinderella,
dressed in yella,
went upstairs to---"
"Oof!"
Gretchen fell, feet tangled in the jump rope, face in the dirt. The other girls laughed.
"You okay, girl?" Aki asked between chortles.
Gretchen stood up, brushing off her dress. "I'm fine!" she said quickly, feeling her cheeks begin to burn. "No problem."
The girls started jumping again. Gretchen, feeling lucky just to be included for once, jumped along with them, praying she wouldn't fall.
"Cinderella,
dressed in yella,
went up---"
"Oof!"
Down into the dirt again. The other girls snickered, Zita loudest of all.
"Gretchen!" Sara said, annoyed. "That's the fourth time you trip! You're messing everyone up!"
"Oh, she can't help it, girls," Zita said, chuckling as she pointed. "Her ugly shoes keep getting caught on the rope!"
The girls laughed. Gretchen frowned, looking down at her feet. "What's wrong with my shoes...?"
"I'm surprised it didn't get caught on her big teeth," Aki snickered.
Gretchen's hand immediately flew up to cover her mouth. "And that hair!" Zita pointed, the original cause of their teasing forgotten. "I mean, who does those pigtails for you?"
"Seriously---those have to be the ugliest thing I've ever seen!"
Gretchen got up, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She turned and ran away, crying, as the other girls laughed behind her before finally remembering what they were doing and returning to their game.
Gretchen, meanwhile, retreated to the stoop of the skool and sat there, sniffling to herself and wiping her tears in her handkerchief. She cursed herself silently for even going to play with the other girls in the first place. They had just been baiting her; it always ended in teasing. Why hadn't she learned that by now?
"Gretchen? Are you alright?"
She looked up, startled. Mr. Elliot, her teacher from the year before, had just come out of the skool building. She quickly sniffled again and tried to hide her handkerchief. "Oh---y-yes, sir. I'm fine."
Mr. Elliot cocked his head to one side. "Now, is that true?" he asked, giving her a look; it was the same playful tone one would use when asking an obvious question to a small child, but it sounded worried, not playful. "Little girls who are fine don't usually sit on the skoolyard steps during recess crying. Is everything alright?"
"Well---w-well, I..."
Mr. Elliot stepped forward and sat down next to her on the step; Gretchen scooted over to make room for him. She sighed. "It's nothing, really," she said, shaking her head and staring at her ugly-clad feet. "Some of the other girls were just making fun of me, that's all."
"Now why would they do that?" It was that same cadence, but he sounded serious at the same time, and even honestly confused.
She shrugged, kicking a pebble at her feet. "They just---they made fun of my shoes...and my teeth..." She sniffled again, bringing her handkerchief up to wipe her nose. "And they said I was ugly."
Mr. Elliot frowned. "Well, now, that doesn't sound very nice."
"No." Gretchen kicked a rock again and sighed. "But they're right. I am ugly."
"Well, now, don't you go talking like that," Mr. Elliot scolded, wagging his finger at her. "That's not true at all, Gretchen. You're a very pretty girl."
Gretchen blinked. "Really?"
"Of course. I don't know what those other children were talking about. Your hair is very nice, and I don't think there's anything wrong with your shoes at all."
"But what about my teeth?"
"Oh, there's nothing wrong with them, either," Mr. Elliot said, waving his hand. "You know, when I was a child kids used to tease me about my glasses."
"Really?"
"Yes." He took his spectacles off, examining them for a moment before wiping them on his sweater-vest. "Well, they were a lot bigger and thicker back then. But you'll find that things like that don't matter after a while. After all, your braces will take care of whatever little dental problems you have after a while, and then your teeth won't even be a problem." He put his glasses back on, his kind blue eyes focusing back on Gretchen's face. "And besides, you still have a very pretty smile, you know."
"Really?"
"Yes, when you can see it."
Gretchen grinned sheepishly. Mr. Elliot winked. "See?"
The skool bell rang. Mr. Elliot stood up; Gretchen did too. "Ah, well, time to get back to class. Are you going to be alright, Gretchen?"
She nodded. "Good." He smiled at her one more time, adjusted his glasses slightly, then turned and went onto the playground to gather up his students, glad he could make one of his children (as he considered any child in the skool) happy for a moment.
What he failed to notice, however, were the twin spots of pink that appeared on Gretchen's cheeks as her eyes followed after him across the skoolyard, still smiling shyly.