𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤

Chapter Eight

"Okay, everyone! How was it?"

It was not great. But in order to get good grades, you must appeal to a teacher's ego. Lillian beats me to it, though.

"It was amazing!" She cries, eyes gleaming. (After raising her hand. What do you think we are, cavemen?)

"Well, thank you very much." Mr. Ester does a little bow.

The video was bizarre. It was him doing hip hop to ballet music. Sure, it was funny, but I just feel really embarrassed for him right now.

What was even the point of showing that video to us? He says it's for Dance class, but is it really?

He's a really...goofy guy. That's the only way I can think to describe him.

I can see him as a clown or a magician, but a teacher? For grade sevens? If it had to be related to education, then kindergarten would be the right thing for him.

But he does let us out of class before the bell rings, which means we don't have to go to our lockers when the hallways are all crowded.

"Did you really think that video was good?" Tiegan asks Lillian, opening her locker door.

Lillian looks both ways before asking. She takes the role of teacher's pet very seriously.

"Well, obviously not." She shrugs. "But how was I supposed to say that to Mr. Ester? It would break his heart."

"I think you're overestimating how much Mr. Ester values your opinion." Ava grunts.

"He values my opinion very much." Lillian argues, sticking her tongue out at Ava. "Right Nicole?"

"Uh," I stammer. "I dunno. Kind of?"

Wrong answer. They both give me annoyed looks and resume their conversation.

I sigh and open my own locker. I take pride in how I decorated it this year. I think of it as a collage about me. I have a hibiscus I made out of tissue paper hanging at the top. There's also magnets of my favourite colours, turquoise and purple. And there are photos of my friends and family everywhere else.

One of the photos is one that my Dad forced me to bring to school and that my friends pressured me to hang up. It's a picture of my family during our first camping trip, when I was eight years old. There's bug bites all over our skin, our eyes droop from exhaustion, and our hair is a mess. It's very unflattering.

It is by far my least favourite photo there. And that's saying something considering how many embarrassing photos I chose/was forced to put up.

One of my favourite photos on there is of me and Sam. It's the two of us on Christmas morning a year ago, and Sammy had just opened the homemade toy soldier I had made for him. I love it because he has the cutest smile ever on his face.

But my very favourite has the place of honour inside my locker, smack in the middle. It's a picture of me and my friends (before Tiegan) during the summer. We're at the beach and all of our hair is soaking wet, but we look so HAPPY. In the photo, Ava's rolling her eyes, but playfully. Lillian's giving Talia a big, wet, squishy hug, just as Talia and I are laughing about some random joke she made.

I stare wistfully at that photo. If only things could go back to the way they used to be.

Before Talia was put into a different class.

Before new friendships got rid of the old.

Before all the fighting.

Before all the drama.