Finding Abby

Chapter 3: Wanted - Writer

“I love the night sky,” Ryan says briefly.

“Me too.”

We’re sitting on my roof, stretched out on the jagged red tiles. My parents are out till tomorrow morning, which is why we’re both being so fearless.

“Do you come here often?” Ryan asks, turning to look at me. I love how his beautiful black eyes twinkle when he looks at me. Ryan is a Malaysian Chinese, and he and I can’t be more different even if we tried. But he’s one of my best friends, I know that much. I’m pulled to him, I feel something different with him. Things I don’t know if it’s okay to feel at this young age.

“Yeah,” I reply softly. I fidget with my hair, looking back up at the slightly hazy atmosphere. 

“Come here, you,” he laughs, grabbing my hand and pulling me closer to him. I drag my legs up to my chest and rest my head on them. Ryan surprises me by slinging his arm around my shoulder.

“I love it when you act shy,” he states. I giggle. He begins to tickle my sides, and soon enough we’re full out laughing. On my roof. At midnight, with the moon twinkling above us.

And at that moment, I know. I love Ryan.

--

“Abby, may I talk to you for a second?”

I’m on my way out of my English class when Teacher Rose calls me back. “Sure, teacher,” I say. I walk to her desk and she waits patiently for the rest of the class to pile out. When they do, she turns her kindly eyes to me.

“How are you, Abby?” she asks.

I shrug. “I’m as good as I’ll ever be, teacher.”

“No one is giving you a hard time, right?” she checks.

I shake my head. “Not anymore, teacher.”

“Good.” She now smiles, her aged face crinkling. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in joining the English Club?”

I tug at my sling bag uncomfortably. “I might not be able to attend the meetings, Teacher,” I say unsurely. If I do attend the English Club meetings , which I know are held every Thursday evening, I’ll have to miss a session of gardening for my mother. Which means I’ll be twenty ringgit less every month. I can’t afford to be twenty ringgit less; my parents have cut my allowance and those twenty ringgit provide me ink cartridges for my printer. No ink cartridges equals no printing of assignments.

And that equals fail grades.

And heaven knows I can’t live with that.

I watch as Teacher Rose sighs, guilt building in the pit of my stomach. “Well,” she says sadly, “That new boy has suggested this great idea of starting a school newspaper, and since this is your final year and I know how much you love writing, I thought you’d like to help us with a few articles and, perhaps, a part of the editing. But if you aren’t able to attend the meetings, you and Jasper will have to meet up. What do you say?” She smiles at me now, her eyes filling with excitement. “You’ll have a good time, Abby.”

I know, from the way her voice lowers to a hopeful whisper, that she really wants me to take it up. I begin to consider this; I know I’ll have to correspond with Jasper if I do agree – I haven’t talked to him since that time in the library and it’s been nearly two weeks now – but that doesn’t seem too bad an idea. Maybe we started off on the wrong foot, but I’m sure regardless of what Ryan has told him, Jasper wouldn’t mind conversing with me again.