book 1 ✔︎
book 2 ✔︎
book 3 ✔︎
PART OF ME - you become so emotionally close to someone that you feel like they are literally a part of you, like a half of your heart. You don't want to live without them - you can't.
Aviana Ember wouldn't know this fe...
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It's last period. I'm stoked. Just another painful 75 minutes of the interactive Phys. Ed. class I forced myself to take, and then I'm homebound. Today could have been worse — like, I could have been sick and thrown up on the guy behind me in English class. That has happened before, actually, but I think in this circumstance, I would have enjoyed it much more. I would have eliminated any chance of me making friends, but that wouldn't matter much since my only friend is my brother. We're twins, which surprises a lot of people because he's tall, and gorgeous, and friendly, and I'm well, the opposite, I suppose?
I could care less. I like that he's the popular one, because he actually likes people, while most of them just make me overly annoyed, sometimes even by breathing too loudly.
In fact, I try to avoid people altogether, especially teens my age, so I go to my locker during my spare to grab my gym bag and get changed. I cuss myself for taking this class before it's even begun, but I know it's for my own good because I won't exercise without it. I wasn't exactly a skinny kid back in public school. Other kids weren't exactly nice about it either.
I finally find the girl's change room under the bleachers and change into my black shorts and long sleeve workout shirt. As I'm lacing up my shoes, the bell rings and other girls walk in to get changed. I slide past them and out into the gymnasium. A few other guys are already changed. I try my best not to check them out, but it's hard not to. I forgot that this is a co-ed class, but I'm happy it is.
Soon, the gym starts to fill up. I see a teacher walk in with an iPad and take a seat on one of the benches. I stare at him awkwardly. He's old, and bent, and hardly fit to be teaching kids about physical education.
"He's just a substitute," a voice says from behind me. I spin around to Black girl with short hair. "The guy who was supposed to be our teacher broke his leg and his hip. Don't ask me how. He's taking sometime off. Not that it really matters — this class has a student teacher anyway. I guess they'll just be teaching the entire class until he gets back."
"A student teacher?" I ask. "How does that work? Isn't that kind of dumb?"
She shrugs her shoulders, "Nah, they've taken the class before, and get a credit for teaching. I guess it's a little dumb without proper supervision," she sighs, glancing at the substitute whose head keeps bobbing like he hasn't slept all night. "But I know a few people who applied for the position. They had to be interviewed and everything. To be honest," she leans in and whispers, "It was mostly hot football guys, which, is great for us!"
