A Teenage Love: A Coming of Age Story

Chapter 13 - Recast

Michelle. School in Springs was different. It seemed everybody had a better body than me, better style and cooler names. The only thing that brought attention to me was my casted hand. Everybody wanted to know what happened, everybody wanted to know how it felt, if it hurt.

I had my sights set on the nearest table as I balanced my lunch tray on my forearm. Two feet away from the table, some girl slammed into me and knocked it right out of my hand.

"Really?!"

She looked back and laughed.

When I kneeled down to pick up my lunch, another set of hands were right there to help; a set of hands I knew well.

Juan placed my food back on the tray and tossed it on the table. "Watch where you going...witcha clumsy ass."

I curled my lips in disdain and I started on the only thing that was salvageable. Silas paced the cafeteria, conveniently stopping behind me. "How's it going?"

"Great. Fine." Leave me alone.

He moved right along. "How's it going, Martin?"

He lifted his carton of milk pleasantly and turned the page in his newspaper. I had to do a double take. Newspaper?! I looked down the long lunch table and realized I was sitting with a serious bunch—the well informed book nerds that knew exactly what the war in Iraq was about but nothing about the score of the last football game. I sighed silently.

I was lost and late for the Women's Club meeting. I had no clue what it was about, but Nadia told me I should join. Great. Fine.

A cool looking white kid with silky black hair and stopped me in the hallway.

"Hey."

He wore holey jeans with sewn on patches and a T-shirt that said:

THIS IS JUST AN ILLUSION

I'M ACTUALLY GOOD LOOKING

"Nice shirt."

"Oh, this old thing? Hey, you wouldn't happen to know where the drama club meeting is, would you?"

"Wish I knew."

"Alright well, thanks anyway," he said moving right along. He turned around again. "Hey since we're both late, would you like to write anonymous love notes and stick them in people's lockers?"

I laughed. Then I realized he was serious. "Um, maybe some other time."

His voice was soft and mellow like breaking waves. "Alright, I'm gonna hold you to it."

And he was off again.

When I finally made it to the Women's Club meeting, I took a seat behind Nadia and Shay. The president was in front of the class preaching about unity and sticking together in the face of disrespect. She began taking suggestions for events and activities we could hold to kick start the year.

One girl said, "Well, my Grandmother is a breast cancer survivor so I think it would be nice if we could raise money for research. She would love to see that."

"Okay. Any ideas?"

"Maybe we can run a marathon or something."

"Psh. Her chunky ass can't run water," Shay muttered.

"Or we can sell candy," I suggested. "With pink ribbons. Or candy grams so people can send them to their friends."

Miss President said, "We do that for Valentine's day."