MY SHOOTING STAR

Chapter One

My Shooting Star
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An eerie aura honing in on my position caused me to jerk my head up from my desk. The familiar figure that came into view was Ms. Mollina. My Cultural Language teacher.

Large black glasses covered her face. She adjusted them a few times because of how small her nose was. Her dark hair sat symmetrically on her shoulders, which complimented her warm chestnut skin.

Ms. Mollina may have been petite in size, but her voice held dominance and authority to everyone around her. If anyone misjudged her by acting foolishly in class, they would have suffered the consequences.

With a disheartened look, she expressed how much she disapproved of my behavior: I was daydreaming and drawing on my notes again.

In my defense, my artwork wasn't hurting anybody. It was a way of escape for me, but she wouldn't understand. No one in authority did.

The school bell rang for every student to go home. I gathered my supplies and stuffed them in my unorganized backpack, grasped my skateboard that lay underneath my desk, and prepared my leave. But before I could get my foot out the door, Ms. Mollina stopped me.

"Luca. Can you please stay after class?" She asked, though it was more of a demand than a request.

I sighed, knowing that if I ignored her twice today, I would hear heaps of threats to drag me back into detention--a place that would have been my ultimate demise the second time around. And I didn't want to provoke her to find out.

After every student had left, Ms. Mollina handed me a piece of paper from her desk. I stared down at it hard, not surprised of the print on the paper.

To dissipate the appearance of a bewildered look on my face, she spoke a little clearer. "This is a slip, informing you about the parent and teacher's conference I am having tomorrow night." She continued to make me understand the concept, but it was obvious. "I want you and your guardian here by 5:30pm to discuss some...matters."

From the tone she intentionally used, I knew very well what that meant. She would be discussing my dreadful behavior as if I needed reminding.

I nodded rudely to her and stuffed the slip into my bag, hoping that would have been the end of this interrogation. Because I was this close to bolting.

Ms. Mollina was not pleased with my actions, but when she realized she had kept me long enough, she sighed and said, "Have a good weekend, Luca. Until tomorrow." She finally had dismissed the conversation.

Before I could hear another one of Ms. Mollina's irrational excuses of keeping me trapped here, which may have involved multiple rules being broken for having a skateboard in class and riding it in the hallway, I jumped on my skateboard anyway and sped off.

I veered past tired janitors while they cleaned up messes after students who didn't care much about the environment--with plastic bottles and wrappers thrown on the ground as if the whole school was a pigpen.

"Hey, watch it!" I heard one say with a mop after I skated past him. He was old with a mangled up mustache.

I twisted and turned in and out of hallways, avoiding students with malicious glares and snappy teachers who demanded past-due assignments. Popular girls gagged at the sight of me as I skimmed by. But little did they know that their hideous makeup on their faces were worn off from sweat and heat, and what was left made them look more like trolls than celebrities they failed to imitate.

When I was finally out of the dungeon of torment and into the sun rays of delight and warmth, I heaved in a deep breath and smiled.

It was finally the weekend!