Underworld

One

Kenna

I dashed out of my parent's house with my book bag barely hanging on my shoulders and my red hoodie unzipped and flapping in the wind as I ran.

I was late for school.

Some people would tell you that I was always on time, but those people would be lying to spare my ego. Not that I have a big one. It's just that...ah, never mind.

Anyways, I dodged a car and a biker and weaved through the larger crowds of people in town on their way to work.

I inwardly cursed myself for not setting my alarm clock earlier and turning off the snooze button. If my parents found out I was late again, they'd kill me.

My phone rang and I answered it while jumping over a pigeon.

"KENNA!" Emily's voice rang loud in my eardrum. I winced.

"Yes, Emily?"

"Where are you? Mr. Douglas is starting presentations, and my partner IS NOT HERE YET!"

I nearly hung up as I arrived on the outside of the school, but I figured Emily (my best friend) needed to know where I was going. "Look, if he calls you, just stall until I get there. I'm at the school; I just have to stop at my locker."

I pressed the end call button and adjusted my white glasses before running inside the school.

Stone Creek High wasn't anything special. Imagine the most average high school you can think of; not too small, not too big, not too many people, but enough to keep the school open. Also, an even mix of good and bad teachers.

Mr. Douglas was a good teacher.

At least, he was nice to me (which was a rare commodity), and I did well in his class. I do well in all of my classes, actually, and I guess that's another reason why people don't like me.

As I passed the classrooms at high speeds, I hoped that Mr. Douglas didn't try and make Emily present if I wasn't there. Emily was smarter than she thought she was, but she hid it by often not paying enough attention. If she tried to give the presentation, then we might fail. Not to mention that my individual grade on the project would go down the toilet, and it would give my parents another reason to kill me.

I nearly skidded past my locker, due to my red converse high-tops having no traction whatsoever left in them, but somehow I managed to pry the locker open and grab my notebook.

I know what you're thinking: All this fuss over some silly notebook? But the thing is, it's not just any notebook.

Well, it is, but that's not the point. It's what's inside the notebook that matters. Other than a few paper clips.

I slammed the locker door shut and ran as fast as I could towards room D103, where Emily and our presentation were waiting.

~~~

"And in conclusion," I said, glancing at the page on my notebook. "We know that there's a certain part of the brain that processes the symmetry of someone's face — the Fusiform Gyrus."

"It's the part of the brain that analyzes whether or not someone is pretty." Emily said, flipping her dark hair out of her face.

"Yeah," I said. "And we also proved that the symmetry of someone's face does matter — "

"At least when it comes to picking a homecoming date." Emily added. Some of the class laughed.