Awaken | ✔️

1. Research

I looked down in silence, my pen carefully etching across the page as I doodled. I wasn't entirely interested in the lesson, but I listened. Glancing upward, I watched as my history teacher, Mr. Smith, sauntered across the front of the room, beginning to scrawl words on the chalkboard.

"As your final semester ends, there is one research assignment for you all to do that will count as your final grade," he started, as he wrote the requirements on the board. "As your history teacher, I believe it is important for us to find our own roots." He turned to the class and crossed his arms over his chest. "You will be researching your own families, as far back as you like. Consider this an open assignment, combining what you've learned about researching throughout this year."

Mr. Smith was a stout man, standing short and usually with his shoulders pressed forward. He was mostly bald, but he tended to comb his hair over to try to make it appear he had more. Today, he wore a red, long sleeve button up shirt and black pants pulled to his waist.

I pursed my lips into a hard line, growing quiet as I listened to him speak. My eyes remained forward, my skin crawling. I hadn't ever been too lucky at finding things out about my family, and over time I had resolved to not dig deeper. The thought of research being a requirement, however, made my heart skip a beat. I was unsure if this sudden wave of emotion was excitement or fear making the hair on my arms stand.

I felt a nudge on my elbow, and looked down at the small, folded up piece of paper lying in front of me. I picked it up and unfolded the edges. A sigh escaped my lips. Maybe you should ask for an exemption, it said.

I looked over at Clark, the boy who sat in the seat next to me. He had been unusually quiet lately, which remained true as I glanced at his note. Instead of a devilish smirk he often offered to those he teased, his gaze remained forward, concealed by black hair creeping over his pale eyes. He held a pen in his left hand, tapping it silently to the paper sitting beneath his palm. Against the fluorescent lights, his pale white skin nearly glowed.

I shook my head and tucked the paper into my folder. I was sure the note only had the purpose of making me squirm, but I wouldn't let it. Instead, I took out another piece of paper, and I began writing down the requirements as Mr. Smith listed them on the board. I wouldn't ask for an exemption. The hand I wasn't writing with clenched into a tight fist under the desk, my fingernails digging into my palm. Either way, I was interested in my own family history. I was sure Aunt Cecilia would be able to give me the information I needed, especially seeing as this was an assignment.

As the bell rang, I rose to my feet and gathered all my belongings into my arms. Strolling up beside me, my best friend Tabitha tapped me on the shoulder, her short, curly dyed-blond hair bobbing as she asked, "What was that Clark passed over to you?" I rolled my eyes, a soft chuckle escaping between my lips.

"He's suggested I ask for an exemption." I shrugged and tucked a stray strand of muddy brown hair behind my ear. I'd always known Tabitha thought Clark was cute, as did most, but I wasn't interested. I just wanted to finish this semester with a decent grade.