You're Not Enough

Chapter 58

"Because I don't trust you all to do the homework. I will be giving you guys Thursdays to work on it. If you finish today, you can turn it in; if not, bring it tomorrow." Mr.Brooks says. One of the football players raises their hand. "Yes, Noah," he calls on him.

"What was the homework again?" He asks. The class groans; Zach leans forwards and smacks him on the back of his neck. "What?" he says, questioning why everyone is frustrated with him.

"We went over three poems this week. You can come up and pick one of the three poems we have gone over, write an essay about why you liked it, or use your phones to find a poem you like based on the topic for the week and share it with the class along with an essay tomorrow."

"How long do we have?" A student asks.

"You'll do this for the rest of class," he says.

I grabbed the three poems we went over from off Mr.Brooks desk,

Death is Nothing at all By Henry Adams Holland.

If I Should Die by Emily Dickinson

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep by Mary Elizabeth Frye

I liked all of them. But the last one stands out the most to me. I don't just like it because it is one of the most famous poems ever written in the 1900s, but I like it because it's relatable, understandable. I grab my pen and begin to write.

...

"Psst." I look over at the student who made that noise. They were not trying to get my attention; they were getting Violets.

"Pass it down." The boy says. Violet takes the folded paper out of his hand and taps the student in front of her. They take the paper out of her hand and pass it forward. After two passes, it lands in the hands of the last student. It's obviously for her. There's no one else to pass it to. I noticed the curly head girl; it's Jessica. I didn't even know she was in this class.

I sit up a little straighter in my seat so I can see her better. All the jocks in the back are laughing, some of the cheerleaders are giggling too. Jessica slowly unfolds the paper. I can't see her face. I can't see her reaction, but I know there's something wrong. Her hand shoots up in the air.

"Yes," Mr.Brooks says.

"May I be excused?"

"Y-" before he can finish, she is already flying towards the door with the paper still in her hand. Everyone's laughter grows at the sight of her distress. I turn and look at all of them, laughing at whatever caused her to be so upset; big surprise Ryder is a part of the group who's laughing.

"Settle down, settle down," Mr.Brooks says. "What just happened?" he asks—the class goes silent. Everyone looks at each other as if we don't know that a paper was passed down to her. Mr.Brooks walks down my row. "So, nobody knows what happened?" His eyes go to me. "Jayda?"

I want to say something I do. God knows I want to say something. But I can't, not in front of everyone. My life at this school would be even worse than it already is. I shake my head, implying that I didn't see anything.

I feel so bad.

...

"What do you think that note said?" James asks from beside me.

"I don't know, but whatever it was, she was pretty mad." Violet answers.

"She was crying," James says.

"How do you know?" Violet says, now intrigued.

"I was sitting right across from her. A tear fell from her eye, and then she got up."