A Modern Beauty: Part One

CHAPTER ONE

“I’m dead.” Clara murmured to her herself.

“What?”Abigail asked, not having been paying attention.

“I’m dead.” Clara repeated, dropping her right arm back to her side and leaning against the wall after rifling through her binder in search of her papers. “I forgot my homework for the third time this week. Not only is Ms. Blanchard going to kill me, my mom will too.”

“Mmm.” Abigail responded, uninterested at the news of her best friend’s imminent death as she peered into her locker, then shut it and slumped her forehead against the locker. “Me too.” Then Abigail turned her head to look at her best friend. “At least we can face the gallows together.”

Clara was an average 16 year old girl. 5 foot 8”, her growing time period was coming to a close. She had long, thick, straight brown hair that fell about halfway down her slender back, and often had small outbreaks of acne on her forehead that she complained about consistently, but never did anything about. Most noticeable about her, she had large, wide, deep brown eyes framed by dark eyelashes that at first glance made her seem helpless and innocent.

Abigail looked into those deep brown eyes for a moment, and could almost imagine them on an angel. She knew that Clara got away with lying to the teachers more often that most people because they were so susceptible to the magic those heavenly spheres produced. She also knew, however, that Clara’s mom was most decidedly not.

“Whatever.” Clara muttered and they pushed themselves up. “We have to get to class anyway.”

“Yup.” Abigail replied as they started to walk to their A1 biology class, but her mind still lingered on those deep brown wells of truth. They reached the classroom in a few minutes and  sat down in their usual seats near the back of the classroom. 

 “May I have your attention please?” Ms. Blanchard called over the last quiet murmurs of the more talkative students in the class. “Before we get class started I would like to remind you your research paper was due today. Clara Analise?” she looked into their corner of the classroom.

“I’m sorry ma’am, I left it at home.”

“Mm hmm.” Ms. Blanchard’s lips tightened and she gave a small nod as if she had expected that to happen. To Abigail’s right, she turned around in her chair and slumped down onto her binder. Ms. Blanchard continued to call up students, each one handing in their homework in successive order until she reached Abigail’s name, the last one in the list. “Abigail Waters?”

“I don’t have it, ma’am.”

“Of course.” She made a mark on her clipboard, and Abigail felt a momentary stab of regret.

Don’t be silly, she told herself. You’ve forgotten assignments before. Turning in her seat, Abigail turned to begin to get out her textbook, as they always did when Ms. Blanchard finished calling role, but was caught by surprise when another, unfamiliar name, was announced.

“Kenzie Williams.” What? Abigail thought.

Then, from the other side of the classroom, Abigail heard a lilting, more beautiful voice than she had ever heard in her life. It was as if it floated across the empty space between their beings, and made its way into her mind, resting there. “Here, ma’am.”

Abigail turned once more in her chair, in hopes of her eyes gracing such a beautiful being. Then she saw the owner of that magnificent voice, and all thoughts of ‘deep wells of truth’, dissipated in a flash. And I thought Clara’s eyes were beautiful.