Twisted (Editing)

Chapter 5 (Edited)

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The rest of the week was so inconsequential, I don't even remember it. The teachers here assigned more work at one time than I'd ever seen. It was a surprise the school didn't have a booming black market for homework. If I could, I'd pay to have my work done for me. On top of all that, I was handed a folder that talked about my "upperclassman capstone," a personal research project that all seniors had two years to complete. Lucky me, I had one. As a mercy, they'd cut the requirements of my final paper in half⁠⁠, just fifty pages, not one hundred.

I hate private schools, I thought. There was no way in the world this excessive, self-congratulatory life-reducer would ever be approved in a public school.

I walked into English class on a Wednesday morning, feeling like it was a Monday at four in the morning. "Right on time, Miss Walker," Mrs. Kelly said. "Please take your seat."

Liz tapped my arm as I passed by her and offered me a smile. We'd hung out twice since the first day of school and I could see myself becoming good friends with her and Yasmine. It would be nice to have a group, no different than the ones I"d seen laughing and giggling as they walked down the sidewalk to school together.

"So class, we're in the second week of school, which means the grace period is over. We will officially be starting our year-long supplement project which will count for twenty-five percent of your final grade. Make sure you're following the deadlines and do not wait until the last week to begin the final stage or I will see you here again this summer. Now partners." I sat up straighter in my seat. "I have a list."

Groans went up in the air. "I don't want to hear it," Mrs. Kelly said. "In life, you don't get to work with all the people you want. This is Honors English, so I hope you'll learn that here." She picked up a clipboard and started calling out last names. Liz's name was called out second, paired with a boy I didn't recognize, and apparently, she didn't like (if the bitter knot her mouth made was a clue).

The names continued. "Walker and Powell. Evans and Reyson." I moved to sit next to my partner. He was a boy with a bright smile and warm brown eyes. I smiled back.

"I think we're gonna get an A," I said, opening the packet of directions.

"Yes, Ma'am." I snorted and flipped through the pages. "So how are we going to do this? Are you coming over to my house or am I going over to yours?"

"I'm not free tonight. What about tomorrow? At your house?"

"We can alternate houses on different days. My little brother is home right after school three days out of every week and he's absolutely a demon."

"How old is he?"

"Seven."

"Sounds about right. Let's do that." I flicked my eyes down the sheet of paper. The projects were all based on the big list of books we were reading. I settled on number five. "What about this one?"

"Secrets?" He proceeded to read it out loud. "Secrets, shame, and taboo shape the way we view religion, politics, society, and ourselves. Examine how at least three of the books on the list handle these themes and do a comparative analysis. For complexity points, I suggest connecting the themes to real-life instances of secrets, shame, and taboo in human society."

"That sounds interesting," he said. "But it's a 20,000-word essay, minimum. That's a novel."

"10,000 for each of us in 30 weeks? We're going to be okay."

"I don't know. It seems kind of much."

"Sleep on it. I'd rather have our project be long and easy, rather than short and confusing."