What happens when you can't even recognize your own parents, but you're able to identify the most notorious playboy in school? //
Asher Thomas lives in a world where she isn't able to recognize people's faces, including those of her parents and even...
As soon as we've finished one project, Mr. Riley dumps another one on us.
Monday morning, the class walks into two words printed on the white board: Electricity Project. Collectively, everyone groans and slumps in their seats. The first one was hard enough, since they couldn't pick their partners and pine after Aaron. Mr. Riley takes much pleasure in discomforting the senior students, and everyone is sure that this time will be no different.
Aaron drops into the seat beside me, and I wonder how many bottles of vodka he has received by now. His shoulders sag when he reads the white board. "Seriously?"
I snort. "Maybe you'll actually do some work this time."
Mr. Riley waltzes in as if on cue, grinning. "Lovely to see you too," he says to a silent student body. He is met with the glare of twenty-three high school seniors, all staring daggers. I must praise Mr. Riley - he doesn't even quiver. Perhaps he is used to this.
"Hopefully you read the board," he continues, pacing to his desk. He picks up a stack of papers, striding down the line of desks and handing them out in the manner that one would hand out golden tickets. "Twenty-page essay on any French electrician. MLA format, due in three weeks." He stops at me and Aaron's desk. "You'll be working with the person beside you."
This does it. The class keels over in agony, the girls close to weeping. The first chance to be with Aaron was swept from under their feet, and it seems that it has occurred yet again. The light of the end of the tunnel has a dead bulb.
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Aaron and I get the project done surprisingly fast. Since our first project, Aaron seems determined to bring home a project deemed worthy for his mother, and even volunteers do more than write the date. After our Wednesday session, we have already typed 10 pages, with Aaron insisting the cover page as one. We decide to split the remaining 10 in half (with me secretly making sure to type one extra page). Aaron leaves at 9 pm with uplifted spirits.
Heidi enters the living room after biding him good-bye. "He seems ... less horrible," she muses, slightly surprised.
"Barely," I respond, frowning. "He still has a long way to go."
I pause, chewing on my bottom lip. "If he's changed at all. This could all be an act."
Heidi tips her head to one side, blonde locks falling past her shoulders. "What, do you not think he's capable of change?"
The question is so absurd, I let out a laugh. "Does anyone?"
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