(FEATURED)
It's been months since the unceremonious fall of Kimie Sato's older sister. The whole of Ridgerock High knows it, and by now, the majority have moved on. But Kimie still watches those who had a hand in it continue to walk free, and the mo...
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"Miss Sato, can I have a word with you?" Mr. Joey placed an arm in front of me, close to my stomach, and gave me a smile that was a little unsettling.
Students rushed past me, hurrying out of physics like it hurt to stay in the room, and I moved away to avoid being shoved, my grip on my backpack strap tightening.
I realized that I was going to be late for animation club meeting—again—and I still hadn't worked on the project we were given. The reminder made my stomach churn in nervousness. I was so occupied with other stuff, I completely forgot about it.
"Of course, Mr. Joey," I said when I noticed the expectant look he was giving me.
When the class noticeably emptied, and teenage voices reduced, he held out my homework, his teeth gleaming white against his surfer complexion as he gave me a wide smile. "Kimie, your homework was amazing!" he exclaimed. "You got all the answers right, and your points hit the target."
I had to smile at that. "Thanks, Mr. Joey. Means a lot."
"You remember that underage program I told you about?"
Of course I did. He announced it in class a few weeks ago, urging us to put in our best so we could be chosen for a contest that if won, could earn us a full-ride scholarship in advance to the college of our choice, saving us college application stress. I hadn't done severe research on it, but I wasn't quite sure I trusted it.
"Yes. I do."
He lifted my homework with both hands, like he would a trophy. "This is your entry, Kimie. Now I just have to send in your application, and your college acceptance letter would be on its way."
I felt my eyes bulge out of their sockets when the realization hit me. "Mr. Joey—" I began.
But he interrupted, saying, "Tomorrow after school, right here, I'd be holding a twenty-minute-long preparatory class for you and a few other students. Ensure you're here. I promise it'll be fun. Then you'd fill out the form, and we'd be good to go."
This science contest was definitely going to spoil things for me, but Mr. Joey wasn't leaving any room for protest, so I just nodded. "All right, Mr. Joey."
"Great!" He flashed me his blindingly white teeth, then turned to his table. I took it as my cue to leave, praying as I walked out of class that I wouldn't get in trouble with Milan—AKA another one of my targets, and the animation club coordinator (the same animation club I was supposed to be at three minutes ago).
It wasn't that I was scared of Milan—because I wasn't—but I just tried my best to stay out of her way. It was easier for me to study her when she wasn't paying me any attention.
When I walked into the meeting room, which used to be a janitor's closet, I saw that the seats had been occupied. All except the one next to Westley O'Brian, who had his headphones on, his eyes firmly fixed on the laptop in front of him. He was definitely engrossed in that popular online game he loved playing. His hair had fallen lazily over his left eye, but he was too busy to fix it, and I found myself staring at him, despite it not being part of my plan.
