The Vanishing Girls Of Willow Creek (Willow Creek, #1)

Chapter Six

I stopped explaining myself when I realized people only understand from their level of perception - Unknown

As I sat in the gym, watching the usual uneventful activities unfold before me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of boredom creeping in. Gym class was always the same: running laps, playing sports, and enduring the occasional awkward interaction with classmates.

However, on this particular day, something mildly eventful did occur. As I nonchalantly tossed a volleyball across the court, it accidentally collided with Kirsty's head.

The look of surprise on her face was almost worth the trouble it would inevitably cause.

Kirsty and I had never seen eye to eye.

From failed group projects to petty disagreements in class, our interactions were always strained.

Last year, we were even paired up for an English presentation, much to our dismay.

The assignment was to give an oral presentation on a topic of our choosing. Unsolved mysteries, a topic that naturally piqued my interest but left Kirsty indifferent, was a natural choice.

Despite our differences, we agreed to work separately and come together just before the presentation.

Of course, Kirsty failed to show up ready on the day of our presentation. With no prepared material from her end, I reluctantly shared my cue cards to salvage our grade.

Afterward, Mr. Haggerty asked me to stay behind and commended me for my work. He saw through Kirsty's lack of effort and acknowledged my hard work on the project.

During our conversation, he offered a listening ear if ever needed and handed me a note for my next class, excusing my tardiness, before bidding me farewell.

At the time, it had felt slightly awkward, yet, for some reason, I chose to brush it off.

I didn't even tell Jon, whom I normally tell nearly everything, and vice versa.

As the bell rang, signalling the beginning of lunch, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. There are only two more periods left in this hellhole we call high school. But today felt different. Today, something was off. And not only because of the death of a classmate.

Jon and I stopped by our lockers, dropping off our textbooks from our morning classes, before heading to the cafeteria, discussing what they might have prepared for lunch. I could already feel my stomach growling in anticipation.

"I wonder what they made for lunch. I'm starving," I said eagerly.

Jon chuckled at my enthusiasm. "You always have the appetite of a person twice your size. Where does it all go?"

Before I could reply, he poked my stomach playfully, causing me to squirm away in laughter. He knew just how ticklish I was.

"Stop! Stop! Mercy!" I pleaded between fits of giggles as he continued his playful assault.

Finally relenting, Jon let me catch my breath before we proceeded to the cafeteria line with trays in hand.

Our school had a food preparation class where students got hands-on experience preparing meals for the school under teacher supervision. It was an opportunity for aspiring chefs, or simply food enthusiasts like us, to indulge in their passion.

It was our next class before final period, so, luckily, we wouldn't need to travel far.

Our class's job was to begin preparing for the last period class, who would finish off anything we didn't for the kids in the after-school program. Also known as the reason not everyone is failing. It's a free after-school homework program.