Can I Have That in Writing?

Riley: The Beginning, Part 1

During my sophomore year of high school, I planned on starting a creative writing club at my school. What I didn't plan on was falling in love. Don't worry, I ended up doing both, but let's focus on the first one for now.

See, my parents knew I liked to write almost as much, if not more than, I liked to read. They also believed I'd end up sleeping in a car if I were to write for a career. It was made pretty clear from an early age that I'd have to find a stable job. But as a hobby, they were happy to support me. Throughout my elementary and middle school years, my mother bought me extra notebooks or composition books to write stories in.

Despite the support, I never felt comfortable with sharing my work. That is, until I met my best friends during my freshman year.

First, I met a girl with short, black hair and a bad attitude. She sported a black leather jacket and combat boots. Her name was Vera. Despite the two of us getting off to a rocky start, we ended up becoming close. I found out that she wrote too- fiction, poetry, you name it. We started to share our work with each other and give feedback.

Eventually, Vera introduced me to her older cousin, Sebastian. His dyed green hair and tall height immediately drew attention to him, but he didn't seem to mind. He wrote poetry, which he hoped to turn into music one day. He had a girlfriend named Allison, who was his opposite: average height, long brown hair, softball player. Yet she supported his writing, as well as mine and Vera's.

Then, towards the end of freshman year, it hit me.

"We should start a writing club!" I said, temporarily ignoring my cafeteria curly fries.

"Um... there is one," Vera replied. "It's called the school newspaper."

"Actually, two," added Sebastian. "The newspaper and the literary magazine."

"But what about people who want to learn to write creatively? Or to practice and have fun without the pressure of publishing?"

"You got a point," Allison said. "Not everyone is at the stage of being ready to publish. I think we'd just have to get an advisor."

"What about Mr. Sage? He's an awesome English teacher."

"Oh yeah, he'd be great! Let's ask him."

Allison and I talked to Mr. Sage later that day. We learned that we just needed to get a list of people interested; after that, he'd get everything set with the principal. Vera and Sebastian wrote their names on the list, as well as several others.

With the start of the school year, we were finally ready to launch. But the arrival of a certain someone on the first day of school derailed my plans.

***

I kept the butterflies in my stomach as I entered my homeroom class, Geometry. The desks were arranged to make a giant rectangle, with little space between them. Our teacher stood in front of her desk in the corner of the room. Her long brown hair framed her sharp jaw. She smiled warmly in my direction.

"Welcome!" she exclaimed. "Please pick any seat."

Because I wear glasses (my eyesight sucks without them), I usually picked the front row. But there were kids already crowded in the front. Three out of four were boys, and they kept swinging their arms around and "ohhh"ing.

Yeah, no thanks.

I walked a few rows back and sat two seats in. Once settled, I retrieved a folder from my backpack. I was rifling through my summer homework packet when I heard a voice.

"Excuse me?"

I turned to the voice. A girl stood at the desk next to mine, the end seat. Her blonde hair fell just past her shoulders. Her lips were pursed together and her brown eyes glassy, as if she were afraid I was going to snap.