Chapter One

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If there's one thing I hate, it's uselessness. Things like pencils without lead, uncharged cell phones, and lab partners who think it's a good idea to throw a block of pure sodium into water, are all useless and have no purpose in this world other than to get on my nerves. So, at the current moment, my nerves are on fire. They are being shredded into miniscule pieces and torched by flamethrowers before being hit by atomic bombs.

For a very good reason too. Who needs to know the motif of To Kill A Mockingbird? And why would you need to write a 10,000 word essay about it in a week? I've never even read the book, and now I'm supposed to write an essay on it? What. The. Actual. Freaking. Hell.

"Remember, this is worth 30% of your grade."

I glanced up at my teacher who was holding up a copy of the aforementioned book. The old man's face was stoic, as if he didn't just tell us that a completely useless assignment would determine if we passed the class or not. I, for one, did not want to repeat AP English Lit and its essay-a-day policy.

It was pretty obvious that everyone else had the same thoughts, because all the eyes in the room flickered to James or Jack or whatever his name was-one of the

smartest people in class and the sole person in the entire school to actually own a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird. Just from the way everyone was looking at him I was willing to bet my entire bank account of a hundred and sixty-eight dollars that he was going to get mugged after school.

After all, no one actually knew a thing about the book. In fact, I'd guess that about half of the people here had no idea it actually existed before taking this class. The word, "library" was a foreign thing in this school, considering that most of the students were idiots.

Don't get me wrong, there was that one group of nerds who managed an average of 103% in their classes, but even they'd probably never read To Kill A Mockingbird. So, naturally, I hadn't either.

Before my internal monologue could continue, the bell rang, signaling the end of the day, and shattering the careful, shocked silence.






I groaned, my elbows on the table in front of me, hands holding my head. I'd checked every library, sale, and Barnes & Nobles within a 20 mile radius of the school, and not a single one had a copy of the book I so desperately needed. Without that book, my GPA would go down, and I did not want to deal with that come college application time.

Which brings me to my current state: in a library in the middle of nowhere, about to start breaking things before dropping into a pile of sobs. I could afford neither the loss of dignity nor monetary amounts of that situation. So, taking a few deep breaths, I opened my backpack and brought out my laptop. I could order a copy off Amazon, right?

Seeing a copy for just $7. 84, I let out a sigh of relief. The price was reasonable enough for me to afford it, given that I currently had only $178.62 in my bank account-I'd won the bet about Jack/James and got ten dollars. Quickly pressing the "add to cart" button, I signed in, made the payment, and proceeded to check out. When everything was set, I could finally breathe easy. Everything would work out, and I wouldn't have to move back with my parents.

I closed my laptop, placed it back in my bag, and got up to exit the library. As the doors slid open, the sun hit my face, a light drizzle sprinkling on my skin. It was a brilliant improvement from the morning gloom, and I felt my spirits rise and smile grow. I walked to my car, taking out my keys and sliding into the driver's seat. However, before I could start the car, my cell phone buzzed.

I took it out of my pocket and unlocked it. It was a notification. From Amazon.

Your order of To Kill A Mockingbird has been received. It will be delivered in two weeks.

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