“Assuming I make it through Miss Barkley’s final.”
“Hey, I took it,” Jackson shrugged as I hung my bag in my locker. “It wasn’t so bad.”
“But you’re smarter than me.”
“As much as that boosts my ego,” Jackson grinned, “that’s not true. You’re smarter than you think.”
“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence,” I smiled, gathering my folders and books. “What about you? You have Algebra II and . . .”
“American History,” Jackson supplied as I closed my locker and leaned back against it.
“Ah, History.” I made a face. “I don’t envy you.”
Jackson laughed. “American Lit is looking better and better by the second, isn’t it?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Look on the bright side.”
“I thought I was already doing that by reminding myself I only have two finals left until I’m home free,” I pointed out.
“Well, yes,” he nodded. “But on the even brighter side we’re still going out tonight, right?”
I nodded.
“Tegan and Mark too?”
“Just Tegan, no Mark.” I rolled my eyes. “He has band practice.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Jackson grinned. “At least it’s not at your house, right?”
“Right. I don’t think my dad can handle listening to them for hours on end at this point.”
“Even with this new optimistic attitude you’ve been telling me about?”
“I don’t think there’s enough optimism in the world to change that,” I laughed as the bell rang. Just as quickly as my good humor appeared, it was gone. “Ugh,” I sighed. “I guess I better go tackle my P.E. final.”
Jackson pulled me into a quick hug. “Good luck.”
“You too.” I pulled away and hurried down the hall toward the room Mr. Tiller told us we’d be meeting in for our final since the gym would be occupied with graduation practice.
Tegan was already there when I got to the classroom. I took the seat next to her as the bell rang, signaling the start of class. I wasn’t too stressed about the P.E. final. We’d had a few lectures throughout the semester, and the rest of it seemed like common sense.
I finished the test early, feeling pretty good about how I did, and once everyone had completed his or her test, Mr. Tiller allowed us to talk for the remaining twenty minutes of class. Tegan and I discussed last night’s episode of Traveler. Well, we theorized briefly, but then we mostly fawned over the hotness of Matt Bomer, Logan Marshall-Green and Aaron Stanford.
When class was over, Tegan and I split up to go to our lockers. When I got to Miss Barkley’s room, I glanced over at Tegan. She looked just as nervous as I felt, which wasn’t encouraging considering she knew the material far better than me. I took a deep breath and silently counted to ten in an attempt to calm my nerves.
In the end, the final wasn’t nearly as bad as I was expecting. There were a few questions that I wasn’t sure about, but by the time I finished, I felt better than I thought I would. I even finished a little early and doubled checked my answers—a rarity for me—and remembered some of the ones I couldn’t think of before.
When class finished, everyone turned in his or her tests. I was one of the last people in line, and as I headed for the hallway, Miss Barkley called me back over to her desk.
She waited until everyone left the room. I held up a finger to Tegan, letting her know I’d—hopefully—be a minute, and she nodded and went to lean against the wall across the hall.
“Cecilia,” Miss Barkley began.
“Yes?” I wracked my brain, trying to figure out why she’d asked me to stay behind.
“I was wondering if you’d ever taken a Creative Writing class before.”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Do you enjoy writing?”
I nodded, biting my lip. I was suddenly embarrassed to admit as much.
“Well, the school is offering a summer Creative Writing class. I think you would enjoy it and do well in it.”
“Really?” I squeaked. Had Miss Barkley really just complimented me?
She smiled slightly, which softened her tough exterior just a bit, and nodded, handing me some papers from off her desk. “There’s more about it in there along with the paperwork you’d need to fill out. You’ll have to have it turned in by next week, but I hope you’ll consider taking it.”
I smiled, glancing down at the papers. “Sure, thanks.”
She nodded. “Have a nice summer, Cecilia.”
“Thank you. You too,” I replied before hurrying out of the room and into the hallway where Tegan was waiting for me.
When I explained to her what Miss Barkley said, she grinned, knowingly, “See! I told you that you could write!”
I blushed, but I couldn’t suppress a smile. I’d always assumed that Tegan was probably just being nice about my writing; I couldn’t imagine her telling me I sucked and should just give up. Now, though, an objective, outside party—a teacher I’d been certain hated me—actually thought I’d do well in a Creative Writing class. It seemed to validate Tegan’s compliments as well as boost my confidence.
The idea of taking a class for creative writing was very exciting, but I knew I’d have to check with my parents first. They’d have to pay for the class, and they’d already paid for me to take driver’s education over the summer. With Dad not working, I didn’t want to push it. I decided I’d just wait until after Skylar’s graduation party and talk to them about it. It would be cutting it close to the signup deadline, but I didn’t want to add anymore to my parents’ already very full plate.
There were more people left in the hallways than I expected. Most of the time people flocked toward the exits, but I realized many people were busy cleaning out his or her locker. I went to de-decorate my locker before I went to meet Tegan at hers.
Jackson was going out with a couple of other friends after school. He’d invited Tegan and I along, but I thought we could use a little one on one time, and I was sure Jackson could probably do with some of the same. Instead, Tegan and I just planned to hang out at her house after school until she, Jackson and I went out later that evening.
As I dismantled my locker décor, I reflected on the last year. I couldn’t believe I’d actually survived my first year of high school. I remembered how worried I’d been the night before school started. I’d been unable to sleep because of all the different thoughts racing through my mind.
Those worries seemed so ridiculous now. Well, except maybe the one about being stuck in a locker. That was the one, of all my worries, that turned out to be the most legit. Who’d have thought? As horrible as that experience had been, the school year hadn’t been nearly as bad as I feared. In fact, it felt like the good and bad balanced out.
Locker cleared, I went to find Tegan. She and Mark were talking at her locker, and I tried to suppress a grin when Mark wrapped his arms around Tegan’s waist. He then leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. They were ridiculously cute together; I was so happy for them.
“Hey, no groping in the halls,” I scolded, walking up behind them.
“No groping here!” Mark held up his hands innocently.
“Right.” I eyed him speculatively. “So, Tegan tells me you’re ditching us tonight for your band.”
“You know how your brother is about the band,” Mark grimaced. “I really couldn’t tell him no.”
“Fair point,” I nodded.
“So, shall I walk you ladies out to the parking lot?” Mark offered.
“Sounds lovely.” Grinning, Tegan looped her left arm through my right and her right arm through Mark’s left.
“Just don’t ask me to skip down the hallway and sing,” Mark commented as we headed down the hallway. I laughed, realizing we did resemble something out of The Wizard of Oz.
Tierney was waiting for us in her car when we got to the parking lot. Unlike Skylar, she didn’t complain about waiting.
&
nbsp; “How about going out for lunch?” Tierney suggested.
I grimaced. “I’d love to, but I don’t actually have much money.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll pay.”
I hated letting other people pay for me, but I could see that Tegan was game, so I offered a compromise. “I’ll pay you back later, okay?”
“If you must,” Tierney sighed, as though annoyed, but her grin proved she was only feigning annoyance.
We decided on Arby’s and went inside to eat. It was nice to hang out with Tierney again. It felt like it had been ages since we’d done anything together. I hadn’t been over to hers and Tegan’s house nearly as much, which only reminded me of my previous guilt over neglecting Tegan; being with them now served as a reminder for how much I’d missed them. I made a vow to myself never to overlook them again.
After lunch, we went back to the Tylers’. While Tierney talked to Jesse on the phone, Tegan and I watched movies and lazed around most of the afternoon. We tried to decide what she, Jackson, and I should do later, but the best we could come up with was food and entertainment at The Bean.
When Jackson came to pick us up, he didn’t have any objections to our idea.
“If the entertainment is bad, we can always go somewhere else,” he reasoned.
When we got to the coffee shop, it wasn’t too busy. We didn’t have to wait in line to order our food and drinks, but there was a group of people who’d come to read his or her poetry or to play some music while others had come to enjoy the atmosphere. It seemed to be exactly what we needed to relax after two days of finals.
We took the table in the corner by the window and dug into our food, chatting about how we thought finals went and talking about our plans for the summer. Tegan and I seemed to be on the same wavelength with ours, but Jackson wasn’t too sure about his Algebra II final. I couldn’t blame him; the Algebra I final last semester had been a pain in the ass. I wasn’t looking forward to taking Geometry next year.
“Did Silly tell you about her talk with her new buddy Miss Barkley?” Tegan grinned slightly.
“No.” Jackson’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s this?”
I rolled my eyes, laughing. “We’re hardly buddies. She just suggested I take a Creative Writing class this summer.”
“Further proving I’ve known all this time what I was talking about when I told Silly she’s an awesome writer,” Tegan pointed out.
“Yeah, yeah,” I smiled, waving her off.
Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Does this mean I actually get to hear some of your poetry?”
Jackson and I’d had this conversation a few times before. Jackson had been curious after Tegan brought up my writing around Christmastime. He’d teased me about reading some of my stuff. As much as I trusted him, I just felt so insecure about my writing ability; I kept putting him off, telling him I’d let him read something soon.
I looked from Tegan to Jackson. They were both waiting. Biting my lip, I glanced at the woman reading her poetry on the small, raised stage. She seemed so at ease as she read from her notebook. I hadn’t really been listening, but that wasn’t the point. She wasn’t afraid. She was willing to put herself out there and share her words.
I figured if she could do it, then why couldn’t I? She, like so many others, poured out the words of her heart to strangers without batting an eyelash. Any insecurity she may have had was masked, and I found myself wanting to take a page from her book.
What was the worst that could happen? People might think I was weird, but I was used to that. They wouldn’t understand me? So what? The few that did were the ones that mattered. Maybe they’d think my writing wasn’t worth a damn. That was fine. It was just matter of opinion anyway. What did I really have to lose?
I barely had to think about it because the answer was so clear: I had nothing to lose. There was no sense in continuing to hide, secreting away my words. If my teacher thought I had talent and my best friend had faith in me, then wasn’t it about time for me to have faith in myself?
I trusted Jackson and Tegan. I knew they wouldn’t judge me. They hadn’t thus far, so if I were to share my writing, why shouldn’t I share it in their company? I looked between Jackson and Tegan again before taking a deep breath. “I’ll be right back,” I said, grabbing Jackson’s car keys off of the table.
I heard Jackson ask after me, “Where are you going?”
I didn’t answer. Instead I ran outside to Jackson’s car. I used the key to unlock the door and reached into the backseat and grabbed my bag. I pulled out my writing notebook before closing the bag and throwing it back into the car. Cradling the notebook to my chest, I locked the door before shutting it and ran back inside.
At the entrance to the coffee shop, I paused to catch my breath. I pulled the door open and slowly crossed the room. I could see that Jackson and Tegan were expecting me to come back to the table; instead, I walked over to the stage and waited until the woman finished speaking. When she was done, I took a deep breath, looking around to ensure I wasn’t line jumping, and then I stepped up on the stage.
Clearing my throat, I walked over to the microphone. I opened the notebook and thumbed through the pages until I found the entry I was looking for. Nervous, I cleared my throat again before I spoke. “This is my first time reading anything, but I want to dedicate this poem to my best friend, Tegan, and my boyfriend, Jackson.”
I glanced over at them. Jackson smiled in a way that I was sure was meant to be encouraging, but instead it did strange things to my insides while Tegan gave me two thumbs up. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before I opened my eyes and started reading.
Once there was a girl, who lived in an ordinary world.
But in her mind, there was another place, where she hid and spent her days.
Her family thought she was weird and never understood.
Her words were gibberish and dismissed as quickly as they were heard.
She met a girl who became her best friend.
This friend was the greatest because she was able to understand.
She listened when the girl talked and heard her every word.
She stood by her, even when the world felt blurred.
There was this boy, who noticed the girl.
He thought she was strange and beautiful. He never judged her or thought she was uncool.
When he kissed her, the girl thought she'd fallen into a fairytale.
Because it all seemed too good to be true, but it was real, and so was the way he made her feel.
When she was with her friend and the boy, everything in the world felt right.
It was perfect and complete. They were her bright, shining lights.
The real world didn't seem so scary and started to make sense.
She hoped that feeling would never end because, together, they were infinite.
Cecilia Granger
Summer
Creative Writing
Essay
Seeing Beyond the Surface
I have always considered myself to be open-minded in most regards. I enjoy taking in the world around me. My mother says that I have always been inquisitive. However, like most people, sometimes it is very easy to take things at face value or believe what I have heard instead of judging for myself. Over the past several months, I have been taken by surprise by many people. It has given me the opportunity to rethink the way I look at people and endeavor to see beyond the surface.
In a paper I had to write last summer about myself, I tried to write about my parents, but I realized how very little I actually knew about either of them. What random bits of knowledge I had were garnered from pieces of conversation, remembered moments and stories conveyed through family. There have been several changes at home, throughout the year, that made me reevaluate how I look at my parents.
For almost all of my life, my mom stayed at home, taking care of my siblings and myself. Even though I often felt closer to her than any other member of my family, I realized that
I always just saw her as “Mom.” When she decided to go back to teaching, it reminded me that, beyond the title of mother and wife, she is actually a person named Leela. She had dreams and goals for herself like everyone else, and as much as she loves her family, she deserves a life outside of us.
Once I made this realization about her, something in our relationship changed. Whether the realization matured me or my mom wanted to reconnect because she wasn’t as present at home as she had once been, a line of communication, unlike any we had before, was opened. It was a welcome adjustment because I finally understood that my mother could be so much more than just “Mom.” She has a wealth of knowledge and experience and a kindness and willingness to listen and encourage.
My father is still a mystery in many ways. I always saw him as stubborn, straight-laced and serious. Sometimes I found myself disliking him because of those traits, but he is also a hard worker. Even though he often comes off as a stickler and tightwad, he has always provided for us, making sure we never had to go without.
When my father suffered a heart attack back in early May, it was easily one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. Despite our differences, it was too painful to even consider a world where my father was no longer with us. Thankfully, he has recovered, but the most amazing part of his healing is the discovery that my father is actually capable of change. Even though he and I are very different, I believe he and I can appreciate those differences even more.
My relationship with my siblings has always been a bit strained. My older brother and sister are different from me in many ways. Being the youngest child did not help matters much either. From my perspective, the best way to describe my sister was as just a pretty face with a semi-rotted core while my brother tended more toward brawn than brains.
Things started to change with my siblings when our mom returned to work, but when our dad had the heart attack, we really banded together; we proved that, despite our typical antagonism and frustrations with each other, we really do love one another. I also realized my siblings were more alike than I thought. They didn’t often let their emotions show. Much like our father, they preferred to keep their emotions close to the vest.
Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) Page 61
