Footnotes

Chapter 2

              Later on that day, I find myself bent over textbooks in the library and debating on whether I'll ever truly use Trigonometry in my life. The real answer is: No, I won't. I want to be a writer one day. I want to put my imaginative thoughts down on paper and know that maybe there's someone out there who will bury their nose in the pages dying to know what comes next. 
              That thought alone is enough to make me want a break. I drop my pencil in the textbook and flip it closed, the pencil holding my page for me, and sit back in my seat with a sigh. I look longingly at the book I had been reading by the pool, sticking out of my backpack. I had taken the opportunity when I first got here to finish my book, and it was fantastic but now I have a gaping hole in my heart that needs to be filled by a new story. 
              I push away from the table and peruse the aisles for a new story. I could spend literally hours in here searching for new books but I quickly search until I get stuck between two options. One is a book by one of my favorite authors so I know it will be good, but the other is a book I've heard about and it received great reviews. Should I take a gamble and try out the mystery book? 
             Decided, I slide the other back in its place and take the mystery book back to my table to read. I last about a third of the book before I can't take it any longer. It's so boring! It takes a lot to make me not enjoy a book, and this one ticks all the boxes. I shut it and hold my head in my hands, confused how such a book could have gotten so many good reviews. No one should be tricked into reading this story.
               I grab some yellow sticky notes from my bag and draw out a llama in pencil. I give him a triangle patterned t-shirt and sunglasses. The speech bubble next to his head says: "Turn back! Boring story ahead." I place the sticky note on the very first page and admire my work. He's cute and kinda funny, and no one would expect to find him in a book. 
               My chest begins to ache a little. I've put a little piece of me inside of a book and yet I've never met another student in this school who enjoys reading. He'll likely never be seen, at least not until the Librarian looks through for damage or cleaning, or maybe a student years from now still clinging to the past like me. 
               Not even my friends see this side of me. The quirky, nerdy part that involves me playing chess and computer games, or watching documentaries and anime with my dad. My friends only invited me into the popular clique because I'm smart. But let's face it, that wouldn't have bought me status if it wasn't for what Claudia calls an "effortlessly pretty face".
               Don't get me wrong. I'm not that stereotypical "girl who doesn't know she's pretty". I know I am, my dad tells me every day how pretty I am, but it doesn't matter to me as much as my brain. My favorite stories Dad tells me about my mom, are the ones where he tells me how much I'm like her. I have her long brown hair that seems to naturally have beach waves, her big brown eyes, and her little button nose dotted with freckles. But even more importantly, he tells me about how she wouldn't take shit from anyone but would give her shirt for someone in need. How she may not be an inventor and scientist like dad, but her wit could match his any day. 
              I'm grateful to look like mom, it's the only way I get to see her face and know what she looked like. But I'm even more grateful that I got the best qualities of both my parents. I just wish more people saw beneath my appearance.
              My heart heavy, I shut the book and set it back on the shelf. 

              At the end of the day, I find myself in the chess club. It's held in one of the smaller math classes, the space arranged so that two people can sit at each table to play their games. Most of the tables are taken already. There are two boys, pretty sure they're a year under me, sitting at the far table playing speed chess. Judging by how fast they're making moves, they're either brainiacs or have no idea what they're doing.
               Ryan sits at another table with another underclassman who I haven't met before. She's a petite blonde with a bob cut, big round glasses resting on her nose. She's deep in thought and doesn't notice me step up to the table. Ryan glances up and stretches his arms up, yawning. "Hey, Bea, what's up?" 
               The girl glances up and scowls, moving one of her knights to take Ryan's bishop. "Sorry to bore you."
               Ryan rolls his eyes. "Relax, cuz, It's been a long day and I'm tired." He moves his queen and glances back at me. Seeing my confused expression, Ryan gestures toward the girl. "Sorry I should make introductions, Beatrice this is my cousin, Anna. Ann, this is my friend Beatrice, we know each other from the track team." 
               Ann doesn't look up, too focused on the game, but does mumble a "nice to meet you". Now that he tells me that she'd his cousin, I can see that they have the same nose and freckles. Very subtle characteristics they share. 
               "Since you have a moment," I begin, facing Ryan. I appreciate how he focuses all his attention on me, and actually looks interested in what I have to say. "Claudia wanted me to invite you to join me at her family cabin this weekend. There's going to be a whole group of us and I didn't feel like being the seventh wheel." I chuckle nervously, thinking about how much of a nightmare it would be sitting solo by the fire while I listen to Claudia and her sisters moaning and squealing in the cabin. "I'd appreciate having a friend there to make it less awkward." 
                Ann finally looks up, but her focus is on Ryan. I can't quite make out her expression. It's almost like she's trying to communicate through her eyes alone. Ryan glances at her and gives her a firm shake of his head, but smiles when his eyes meet mine again. "Yeah, let me give you my number so you can text me the details." 
                We exchange numbers and when he hands back my phone I notice that he's put a parrot emoji beside his name. I'll have to ask him this weekend about what the parrot represents for him. 
                 "Cool, thanks." I grin. "I have to go, I need to go back to the library before I head home." I wave to Ryan but before I walk away I lean down and whisper. "Take his queen and his last bishop, and he's screwed. He relies on them too much." 
                 I can hear Ann's evil cackle as I step out the doors.