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on your first day here. What will you think of us?” a soft twang demanded.
     My eyebrows rose as high as they could get as I took in this small-town school nurse. She was short, probably no more than five feet, and her hair was almost as long.  It swung around her waist like a white satin curtain. She was easily in her sixties, possibly early seventies, and her skin was thin as rice paper and covered in fine wrinkles. She had blunt Appalachian features made friendly by an abundance of laugh lines, and her hazy blue eyes surveyed me with kind concern. She was wearing orange lipstick and a knee-length baby doll dress with Doc Martens.
    “Uh…” I said brilliantly. She ushered me over to her examining table and I took in the room around me. Unlike most nurses’ offices I’d seen, in this one there were no cheesy posters encouraging students to brush their teeth or wash their hands, no “Abstinence First” signs with cheerful teens chastely holding hands, no advertisements warning against the dangers of smoking. Instead, the room was painted a calming blue and resembled the interior of a Cape Cod cottage with white trimming and nautical accents. I shrugged and sat on the edge of the table. What had I expected? Shank High was clearly different from any other school I’d attended.
    “Ok, sweetie, let me get a look at you.” Nurse Nora peered into my eyes and then flashed a light at me, checking to make sure I didn’t have head trauma. “Hmm. Well, your pupils are moving a little slow, but I don’t think you’re concussed.”
     “I’m fine, really. Can I go to class now?” I asked haltingly, willing my eyes to look normal.
    She watched me for a moment and I quailed under her sharp-eyed gaze. I had a strange feeling that Nurse Nora could see more than she should. Finally, she nodded and gave me a smile.
    “Carey, run down to the cafeteria and get one of the cooks to give you an ice pack out of the freezer, please.” Carey agreed and with another bright smile in my direction he took off, leaving me alone with Nurse Nora’s quizzical stare. I looked up, down, and all around trying to avoid her eyes; I knew somehow that she was willing me to make eye contact.
    “Alright, honey. Relax. I’ll stop trying to read you.” I glanced up involuntarily and then dropped my eyes again. She was watching me with an amused smile. “I know you don’t want to be touched, so I need you to tell me if you’re hurting anywhere else.”
    I drew in my breath with a little jolt of surprise and met her gaze.
    “What do you mean, you know I don’t want to be touched?” I demanded, my voice terse with anxiety. She gave me a toothy grin and went over to a cabinet with labeled drawers.
    “Nothing, honey. Just that you’ve got a pretty big ‘personal space’ vibe going on. I try not to violate people’s boundaries,” she replied casually as she opened a drawer and rummaged around.  Making a little noise of triumph, she extracted two little plastic packages of Tylenol and came back to me, holding them out for me to take. “Here, take two of these now, and then take the rest when you go to bed. You’ll be ok, though you’ll have a bruise.”
    I took the pills and watched warily as she opened a cabinet door and extracted a small bottle with clear liquid in it.
    “This is Witch Hazel. Take it home with you and put some on tonight before you go to bed. It’ll help with the bruising.” She dabbed some on the side of my face, careful to only touch me with the cotton ball.
    “Thanks,” I mumbled, still trying to figure this woman out. Of course, all I had to do was reach out and touch her with an ungloved hand to know all her secrets, but I had avoided doing so for such a long time that it was only a fleeting thought. “Is there a bathroom?”She pointed to a door on the left side of the office and I swiftly crossed the room and closed the door behind me, thankful to escape being alone with her any longer.
    I used the