Two Weeks Later
"Morning, everyone."
It's time to bring out the tablets, but not for what you might think. We're forgoing our morning routine to get ready for what I was hoping to avoid at my new school, but no luck.
It's...
Picture that close-up "actors" SpongeBob zoom-in scene.
...Test week!
Well, it's test-prep week. This isn't your typical math or history test. The week before our spring break, the state's Board of Education issues a series of standardized tests for every school under its ruling thumb. This consists of five main school subjects (in order by its schedule): science, history, math, English, and reading comprehension.
Students in fourth through eighth grade are the key test guinea pigs. They're done in the morning with a time limit until lunch (two hours). Makeup time is in the afternoons if you're sick and have to miss a day or you're unable to finish on time.
According to Ms. Tudor, after this series of new morning lessons, everybody will be pros by the end of the week. We'll learn the basics, what to expect, how to fill in circles, what pencil to use. I might need to stay after school hours for extra help. I just don't understand English, can't stay in a bubble's lines...
A circle is one connected line, Chase.
...I can't stay in the line.
Then, there's the drama with pencils. What does she mean I can't use my trusty mechanical 0.9mm? It isn't my fault the scoring machines at the Board of Education are too stupid to read anything but #2 graphite. I thought technology was supposed to make things easier, not harder.
Am I being lied to? How deep does this go?
"Now, I know you guys know about this..."
I'm half-paying attention. At my old school, we did the same thing. Mrs. Tudor's voice just droned on and on. She treated us like we were dumb, repeating herself, checking our papers to see if we filled in the bubbles correctly. A test to test us on test performance.
I wish I was kidding. Ms. Tudor doesn't do "fill in the bubbles" tests, but I still don't feel like I'm being treated any more intelligently like I've been told this school was all about. Is...is this really a school for the gifted, or just another school?
"Josh? What's the answer to number ten?"
It's B. I learned about the three different triangles two years ago.
"Uh, C?"
B.
"Are you sure? Read it again."
Hello!
"Uh..."
While Ms. Tudor coaxes Josh into saying the correct answer, I glance over my shoulder at...at Max, hunched over his desk, hands in his lap. Tired, bored eyes droop under the cover of his bangs. It's kind of cute, like watching a kitty falling asleep.
"Stupid," I mouth, referring to our test-prep.
Max shows signs of smirky life.
"Chase? Stay with us."
That's a thought for later.
***
That Afternoon
At lunch, I'm seeing bubbles, bubbles everywhere, even in my milk.
Max catches me staring into the carton and has to open his mouth up about it. "What the heck are you looking at?"
"Nothing."
"...Weird."
Play along!
"...Says the fifth Beatle."
Max's brows swirl. "The who?"
"Wrong band."
Thanks, Dad songs. You're too steep for Max's brain.
Afternoon with Mrs. G is a break from the morning's bubble barrage. We've steamrolled through Jonas' ayahuasca trip. See you next grade. We discuss the end, then receive our big project.
"This time, I want to see you guys work in pairs."
Help. I don't play well in groups.
"I know. Fun, fun!"
Steamroll, steam trains. Clever me.
"At the end of the book, Jonas leaves his world behind."
Spoiler!
"You and your partner will create an ideal location that you would want to escape to. It has to be fictitious, but you can take inspiration from places in real life. You'll create a brochure for your location, then present it to the class at the end of the month."
I'm looking at Kieran.
"You partner? The person who's sitting across from you."
Max.
***
"Coming in or what?"
It's nice outside (45!). I think I'll spend time with my tree out front (as long as Mom lets me in for Daniela). I give Gumball all the credit, but the tree is a great listener, too (plants always listen).
"You'll never guess what happened," I tell it. "I'm teaming up with Max on an English project, and test week is coming up."
If I play my marbles right, I could ditch school and be just like Echo, inadvertently messing up the space-time continuum to pop a rating on my Unsolved Cases show. I wish I was them. It's boring only being one anything, one job, one gender, one expectation.
"That book was great."
The bad thing about libraries is that I can't own the books, but Mom can renew them up to ten times, so I'm milking it. Second reads aren't as magical as the first, but predictability gives me comfort.
"I wish more people would write what I like."
Or am I just too picky?
"Nah."
You know, I wonder if I can write my own story. It'll be a world like Chloe's or Echo's, fun, different. I mean, I used to make stories with Kieran all the time. I'm gooder at grammar and look at how I act when I'm alone.
"I bet I could."
A fanfic.
"Something."
Anything.
"I could even write about Max."
I don't think Max would appreciate it. But, who says it'll be Max? Protect the innocent, right?
"I...did have a Pokémon fanfic idea."
It's nothing major. I forgot most of it. Kieran was the one who started it anyway. Something about a power couple and their kids. We stopped because we fought over direction. We...
"Ooh."
I laugh at myself. For a second, I thought I had an idea, but it's stupid. It's fanfic. Those aren't stories, they're usually dumb or dirty fantasies, so...who'd care? I'm not that creative anyway. Max, it's all up to you. Better have an idea for our perfect—
"Chase?"
Already?
"Coming in or not?"
"Yeah." I say, and I head in.
Test bubbles and Max? Two beasts, fast approaching, and I'm right in the line of fire.
"What the heck are you looking at?"
"Ooh! Chase has a cru-ush!"
Chase do-doesn't...
"Pick up your feet," Mom says.
...Who built these steps here?
YOU ARE READING
Castling: A Novel (NaNoWriMo21)
Teen FictionIt's a slice-of-life centered around "Chase the Ace," who finds himself changing schools against his will mid-year to help make the most of that brain of his. It'll be good for him, they say. He won't be so bored. He'll get to be with an old friend...
