Who I Am

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Cato

"Hey, hon," Mom says, walking into my room with a basket of clothes on her hip.

"Knock much?" I mutter under my breath.

"I am your mother," she sets the basket on my bed. "I have a right to burst through your door."

"No comment," I continue writing my essay.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Writing."

"Writing what?"

I turn my chair around to face her. "If I tell you, would you leave me alone?"

"Maybe." She smiles, sitting down beside me.

"Okay, so, I'm writing this essay for English."

"What's it about?"

"It's just about how we want our lives to go," I shrug.

"Like future careers?" She asks.

"Precisely," I say.

"Like, you want to be a doctor?"

"Nah, Mom, I wanna be Quicksilver and have super speed." I say sarcastically and roll my eyes.

"Alright, alright, smarty pants." She stands up and walks towards the door. "You know what happens to him in that movie." She opens the door and walks out.

I chuckle, shaking my head, writing on my essay again. I have a feeling that someone's watching me, so I look up and see a wide-eyed Clove; she mouths something. "What?" I mouth back. She gestures for me to raise my window; I do. "What?" I repeat louder.

"You're a nerd!" She exclaims.

"Geek," I spit.

"So, you're really smart?"

I nod. "I guess."

"Why would you hide that?"

"Because it's embarrassing," I say, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Don't be embarrassed," she sits on her windowpane, facing me. "Don't be afraid of who you are, embrace it. Or better yet, enjoy it. Life's too short to throw away; to be someone you're not. You're a great guy, I just feel that you can't see it."

I sit on my windowpane as well. "You really think I'm a good guy?"

"I know you're a great one."

I smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she says.

"But, this has to stay between us, okay?"

"Okay," she smirks. "On one condition."

I narrow my eyes at her. "What's that?" She leans in toward me, then she slips. I grab her wrists and chuckle, "I gotcha."

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