Every Story Matters

03

♡ Scarlett ♡

The gloomy clouds outside stalk their way closer, threatening to deliver a thunder storm. No one takes notice or even cares about the incoming dark clouds, though and continue to work on their assignments. I guess they don't have to, since they have rides to take them home. I frown, hoping that it won't so that I won't have to walk to the Café in the rain.

Outside, I take notice of the PE classes running around the track with the teacher standing on the side watching as they pass by. Nothing interesting happens for a while, but once the last runner passes by, the teacher throws something into the middle of the field and buries his face into his hands. None of the students take notice of this as they're still running in the opposite direction. The teacher's obviously frustrated, but why? I may not know what being a teacher feels like, but from what I've heard, it doesn't pay much. But then again-

"Miss Jones," my teacher calls, "is there something more important outside other than your assignments?" She asks threateningly.

She catches the attention of the entire class and they all turn around to look at me, laughing. Sure, most people here, at this school, don't really take a liking toward me and I've heard rumors here and there about me being weird and creepy, but I couldn't care less of what they thought.

"With all due respect Ms. Smith," I say, avoiding my classmates, "I only have two classes this year and I finished my work already" I point out.

A bewildering expression makes its way across her face and she just stands there trying to come up with something else to say. Nothing comes to mind, however and the class averts their laughter at her rather than at me. I actually don't know why she's mad. This is only study hall. It's not like we have to get something done anyway. A moment passes and the bell rings, signaling the end of school.

"Right, so I'll see you all tomorrow" Ms. Smith yells, walking to her desk. None of the students care, however. They've all already left.

I'm the last to exit the room and then made my way to yearbook club. The whole way there, I kept my fingers tightly crossed, almost to the point where they started to turn bright red. It's crazy how just this one assignment can determine my future in writing. I've worked my butt off on the qualifying essay for this opportunity, and I hope it's enough.

Opening the door to yearbook club makes my stomach churn with even more uneasy nerves - if that's even possible. I make my way to an empty table and made myself comfortable until Mr. Chaz, the head of this club, went to the front of the classroom. He holds a stack of papers in his hands and starts pacing the front of the room, beginning the meeting.

"Now just by looking at your eager expressions, I can tell that you all just want to know who gets to write the reported story on Austin Moore," he begins, "So that being said, I'm going to skip my open meeting discussion and get straight to the point." At this, everyone sits up straight giving Mr. Chaz their full, undivided attention. "But I just want to say that no matter who gets this position, you all wrote exemplary essays," he explains, holding up the stack of papers. "But, the lucky senior that I've chosen and believes that she...or he will be best for this is Scarlett."

My jaw drops along with everyone else in the room. I cover my hands over my mouth trying to contain the excitement and happiness that wants to explode. I can't believe I got it. So many people tried out for this opportunity and yet, I was the one selected.

"Ok! So, Scarlett I need to speak with you at my desk and everyone else please continue to plan the yearbook layouts."

I quickly make my way over to his desk and sat in front of it. "Thank you so much, Mr. Chaz. This really means a lot." I say to him.

He nods his head. "You more than deserved it. I could tell that you worked harder on this than anyone else in this room," he congratulates. "So, because you received this opportunity, you have a pass to skip some club meetings since football practice is right after school," he starts to inform me, "and I will be checking up on you to see how you're doing once in a while. I wish you luck and you can start today," he finishes.

I eagerly nod my head and thanked him again. Before leaving, a curious thought comes to mind, making me turn back around toward my yearbook teacher. "Mr. Chaz, may I see the yearbooks from the past two years?" I ask.

"Sure, but may I ask why?"

"I want to read what the past writers wrote about Austin since he was starting quarterback starting his sophomore year," I tell him. I don't want to write the same things that the other writers wrote and to maybe ask him things that they didn't.

"Smart," he compliments pointing to his head. He reaches under his desk and hands me the yearbooks from the past two years. I thank him once again and headed back to my seat.

Flipping to Austin's pages in both books, I start to skim the two pages quickly. But as I keep reading, something odd catches my attention making me furrow my eyebrows. The first one reads, "Austin's ambition as always been football and to someday play professional..." and the second one reads, "Austin is following his life long dreams and is striving to someday play in the NFL". I read more, thinking that maybe it's not what I think but, to my surprise, it's not. They're both saying the same exact things just...differently. These writers didn't even interview him.

I close the two books and handed them back to Mr. Chaz. I sling my camera around my neck, gathered the rest of my things and headed to the football field more than eager to start.

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