Serena

T w e n t y-e i g h t

"Serena?" Mr. Gallagher asks me, and I feel thirty pairs of eyes turn on me as I jerk my head up.

"Huh?" I sputter. Stealing a glance at the paper blank paper before me—I was still trying to come up with something for my impact letter—I return my gaze to my middle-aged math teacher.

"I believe the question was to find the derivative of the equation on the board?" he says in his raspy voice. I swear it was almost as bad as nails on a chalk board.

Squinting, I quickly scan the equation on the board. "f(x)=3x3+2x2f(x)=3x3+2x2?" I think. "And he wants me to find the derivative of that? What the heck is a derivative again....?" Swallowing, I shrug a shoulder and sit my pen down. "Um...33?" I ask, pulling the number completely from the air.

The class laughs and Mr. Gallagher just slowly shakes his head. "Seems like you should have been studying over the break rather than eating candy canes with your friends," he states, and then moves on to the smartest girl in the class—Alyssa Rimes—who of course gets it correct. Rolling my eyes, I return to the blank page. For starters, who studies over Christmas break and secondly, who just sits around eating candy canes with their friends?

We've been back to school for two days now and I was already counting down the days until spring break.

After New Years Eve, the rest of our short pause from school flew by as it mainly consisted of working, sessions with Dr. Kim, speaking to detectives and lawyers as we took our depositions, and explaining to our families why Jake's face looked the way it did—all beaten up and such. Surprisingly, his parents weren't upset. We had made up the excuse that a guy had started saying nasty things about me and Jake was only defending my honor which isn't a complete lie.

Once we got back to school, the fight was all that anyone could really talk about. On more than once occasion, people would come up to him in the halls or during lunch repeating how "awesome" and "bad ass" the whole thing was, though Jake seemed like he could care less because the true reason behind the fight was rather dark.

The bell rings and I scoop up my belongings and slip them into my backpack before sliding out of the classroom. Student's bustled about in their hoodies and coats, excited to see their friends again. Some wave hi to me or give me a friendly nod which I find strange considering in the beginning of the school year they all snickered at me when I walked by.

Strolling into English lit, my face lights up as I see Jake at his desk. He still looks a bit worse for wear, but he pulls off his split lip and black eye with ease, appearing to be some dangerous bad boy who is really just a teddy bear.

"Why can't you just tell me what happened?" I hear Maci ask him as I get closer.

Since our return, she has been pestering him about the fight, needing answers as to who her cousin really is.

From the corner of his eye, Jake sees me and turns his body back into his desk, flashing me a grin. "Hey Carter," he greets and I slide into the empty seat next to him.

"Hey you," I reply and then give a small wave to Maci. "Hey Maci."

She waves politely back and returns to her desk, dropping the subject for the time being.

"How was first?" he asks me, pushing up the sleeves of his Carhartt hoodie.

Shaking my head, I can only roll my eyes. "Material wise, I have no idea what we even covered. I was too busy trying to think of what to write for my impact letter," I reply. "How am I supposed to present it tomorrow when I don't even have two singly words yet?"

Jake opens his mouth to reply but the bell rings and Mrs. Freeman presses the play button on the DVD player. "Can someone hit the lights?" she asks, sitting herself back down in her chair. A boy sitting closest to the light switches gets up and flicks them off and the movie "Dead Poet's Society" picks up where we left off yesterday.