Chapter Text
PART ONE
Kory
Chapter One
The smell of baked goods and a vanilla air freshener greets me as I enter Mr. Lewis’s classroom. It’s English, my last hour of the day before I have to go home. To finally be in a lamp-lit room without the noisiness or bright fluorescent lights of the hallway feels like bliss. I put my things down at a desk in the center, next to my friend Marco. He looks away from his phone (Which he’s not allowed to have, according to school rules) and up at me.
“Kory! Hey, did you see Catalina in the hallway, by any chance? I need to… uh, sort things out with her.” Marco looks away nervously. Catalina’s his girlfriend, and I heard they got into a bit of a fight recently. Knowing Marco and seventh graders in general, it was probably over something idiotic.
“No, I haven’t. I know her locker’s near our math class, so you might want to stop by. But I would be careful. If she’s not talking to you, she might have a good reason.” Marco looks bewildered. “Man, how are you so good with girls? It’s like you can just understand how they work.” I laugh at that. “It’s pretty simple, actually.” Marco leans in when I say that, which makes me laugh again. “Girls just use common sense. You don’t.” Marco sighs and flips his water bottle in his hands. “So, that’s just it?” He asked me. “In a lot of cases. It really depends on the person. I think you should talk to Catalina, though. She might appreciate the fact that you’re trying to fix whatever the heck you did.” Marco leans back in his chair, his gatorade water bottle turning in his hands, so I can hear the water sloshing around inside. It makes me a little jealous, actually. I don’t have a water bottle at the moment, so I just buy the little plastic ones from the vending machines behind the auditorium.
“Well, thanks for the advice.” Marco says as the bell rings. I was so caught up in my conversation that I hadn’t realized everyone was already in their seats. Mr. Lewis walks in, and I start playing with my hair, anxious. We just took a spelling test last Friday, and we’re supposed to get them back on Tuesday- which is today.
“Good morning, sixth hour! Excited for class?” No one responds. Mr. Lewis deadpans. “Well, that’s nice to hear. Today we are starting our unit on realistic fiction. Now, can anyone tell me the difference between realistic fiction and other types of fiction?” No one raised their hand. “I’ll just pick myself, then.” Geez, I hate when teachers do that. We all knew who was getting picked, because a red-head girl called Amelia was half-asleep. She would probably just wake up and ask Mr. Lewis to repeat the question-
“Kory? Do you have a guess?” Mr. Lewis and the rest of the class looks my way. He must’ve noticed me zoning out.
Crap.
I can feel them staring at me. Now the lights are too bright, and their eyes turn into the only thing on their faces… I have to say something before this gets worse.
“Um, realistic fiction includes plots and events that could happen in real life?” I breathe out.
Mr. Lewis lights up again. “That is correct! Now-” I stop listening to him, because I already know we’re going to be writing realistic fiction. I already know what I want to write about. I want to write about a girl and her relationship with her…her…father. I want the protagonist to be her own character, but her dad is based off of… off my… mother?
The bell rings.