Oxymoron

Chapter 1: Similar Similes

(Nisha POV)

Talent is a difficult thing to digest. I learn to chew and spit. Yet it sticks to my teeth like chewing gum, and I've been told not to swallow.
Goosebumps climb up when her arm touches mine. She dissolves into her notebook unlike me. I gawk, not at her awry handwriting or sticky-note-edits that stick out like mismatched socks, but at her hair which she ties in a tidy braid at the back. Her milk-white teeth chew into her bottom lip. I grope into my skirt pocket for lip balm and decide against it. Instead, I stretch my palm across the blank page to spill the words. Nothing spews out but I manage to drool into the margins. She has teddy-bear eyes that don't blink. I am uncertain about the meaning. There are eight of us. We sit in a hula-hoop, read aloud clockwise to spin.

"Would you like to share?" The teacher asks, her voice sweet like syrup.

I shake my head. "Maybe some other time. I couldn't write anything today".

She resigns but her desire bubbles up her throat, "I wish to become acquainted with your work before I hand out assignments".

I imagine it translates to please stop wasting time. I block the urge to voice it when I nod. It is only the second day of the creative writing club, and I am not supposed to stay. I sink into my chair as someone reads another poem. My notebook slips off my thigh and Aakriti reaches her long arm to grab it before me.

"Thanks", I whisper and pretend to listen to the next person read.

"I like that", she leans over and points to my scrawl in the margins. "It's unique".

Her praise leaves a minty after-taste in my mouth. I wonder that unique might be the nicest way to pronounce strange. I shrug and grin. She introduces herself and I do the same. Aakriti, a pretty name for a pretty girl. Long legs and long eyelashes, a dot-like mole sits on her right cheek.

"Nisha, nice to meet you", my name somersaults off her tongue as if made anew.

The bell sounds overhead, and we promptly gather our things. I want to escape but the teacher stops me. I remain in my seat as she explains the first assignment. I bet she writes like the way she speaks, sugary soft tones and elegant words like her pink painted nails. I imagine she writes romantic tales with them.

"I want you to focus on the description of an object or a person. Write details that would help the reader to visualize it. There is no word limit but try to make it short so you can complete by Friday".

As she finishes, we return the chairs into their original place. Aakriti and I walk out the door side by side. When she waves, I notice him against the wall outside. He stands at least a few inches taller than her. She walks over to him and shapeshifts into a cheerful that I think doesn't suit her. We don't say goodbye. I shake off the urge as I walk in the opposite direction to the staff room at the end.

"Good afternoon, sir, I need to change my club", he seems busy, but I interrupt anyway.

"Were you assigned the wrong one?" He doesn't look up.

"No"

"Then I can't help you"

"But- "

"You kids are so indecisive. Why did you choose it if you couldn't even last two days?"

"I didn't."

He finally looks up. "I accidently filled in the wrong club code, and I would like to change it. Please."

He sighs and checks the time. "I am still going through the ones assigned wrong. I can't promise anything until next week".

A whole week is too long, and I don't wish to do that assignment. However, I could tell that nothing would convince him otherwise. I leave with a form to change the club that I am to bring next week on Friday, which is longer than a week, but I don't complain. It is pointless and I just want to get home.