"I am Ms Sugg," she introduced. "Welcome to creative writing class." I heard a voice float out from the room. It was soft, but at the same time, loud enough to hear from across the room. It was like a feather drifting in the wind, going up and plunging down at the right times, making the momentum smooth and graceful. An eloquent speaker, she was.
"Good morning," she said when I walked into the room. I dipped my head in acknowledgment. "Grab a seat," she told me, and I did. Although the place my butt rested was just a piece of wooden bench, I sighed in comfort. My legs were aching because my twin brothers (yes, we are triplets) abandoned me and ran off to class aka who knows where. The ten minutes before class was spent wandering the halls, asking for instructions to the creative writing lecture room.
"So, today, we're going to touch on a few writing tips..." the class ended quickly. Too quickly. I was hoping for more information, more to help me on fiction writing. Fifty minutes was just too quick for a lesson.
"I would like you to write a story," she told the small class of twenty one. "Anything is fine, it can be an old story, it can be one whipped up on the spot. Just as long as it is yours."
Oh my gosh! How do you do this? I thought during math class. I read the question out in my head. There was a soft buzzing, and then, I heard it. The answer to this impossible question. I wrote it down quickly. The buzz died down. It was like the soft hum of an air conditioner. There, but almost impossible to hear. I wondered why that happened.
My phone rang. The entire class looked up and turned around, their expressions irritated. "Sorry", I apologised. "Turn the freaking phone off!" a girl two seats away from me shouted. As I dug into my bag for my phone, I could still feel dozens of eyes focused on the back of my neck. I could feel my cheeks heating up.
Starbucks after school.
A text from Sam. "Is that your boyfriend?" The girl beside me asked. "Maybe," I told her. Shrugging, she returned to her work, twirling her bluish-green hair, its ends dipped in red, which was tucked into a black snapback.
"Ten more minutes," the algebra teacher said. F*ck. I was only at the fourth question. "Just take the answers," the girl with blue hair told me, pushing her paper towards me. Muttering a word of thanks, I pulled the piece of paper closer to me and started scribbling ferociously.
"Time's up," Ms Fernando said. Only one more question left! I just needed five more f*cking minutes. I wrote as fast as I could. "Courtney, hand it up, now."
All eyes turned on me. Again. The entire class knew my name because I was new, and teachers have been making me introduce myself at the start of the lesson all day. The answer from me was standard. My name, where I was originally from, and my interests in reading and writing.
I pushed my chair back and the screeching sound was made. The people sitting near me winced. I trudged my feet and walked up to the teacher's desk.
School finally ended for the day. I headed to Starbucks and found Sam behind the cash register, once again. "Hi, Collins!" He shouted, when I pushed open the glass door. The long line of people in the queue turned round to look at me. Why does everyone have to keep f*ucking looking?
Rolling my eyes, I walked towards the queue. Suddenly, I felt a tug on my arm. Then, I felt myself sink into a soft couch. "Hey, new girl!" A familiar voice called. The girl from math.
"I think you don't know my name. Charlotte, but you can just call me Char," math girl said. "Oookay," I told her. "This is my boyfriend, Luke."
