Dual Rhythm

Chapter 1

The Friday before Spring Break is always the worst. The anticipation of a two weeks break is in full swing, but teachers still expect you to pay attention for long enough to hear about the last minute report we're supposed to concoct over break. At least Mr. Adams is having us turn everything in today instead of after break.

I'm sitting in his class right now, frantically writing a fantasy short story that I should have written a month ago. Music plays in my earbuds as my classmates chat excitedly about their plans for break. I would normally join them, but I can't let my grade in this class drop. Creative Writing was practically the easiest class ever, so getting anything less than the best grade would just be embarrassing.

The class passed quickly and I was soon sitting in my English class. Mrs. Jackson is giving us a lecture about how we should structure our entire break around the report she had assigned. She proceeds to hand out a writing plan that encompasses the whole week. She is so blissfully unaware that we are all just going to mash up some Wikipedia articles and turn them in. A few eyerolls later, I moved on to art, then lunch and finally math. Assignments that I didn't want are slowly stacking up. A report, a portrait, and a poster on the quadratic equation have wormed their way into my relaxing break. Not to mention studying for my European History exam and the Chemistry packet I had yet to finish. At least I didn't have to go to school for a week after today.

The last 5 minutes of class were the most painful. Time always seems to taunt you while you wait. I'm sure the clock laughed as eternal seconds ticked away before the eyes of 31 waiting algebra students. We're all gathered around the door, occasionally glancing up at the clock as a month went away between the 5 and 6 that marked our final minutes of this term.

The bell finally rang, relieving us from school, and releasing us into two weeks of blissful relaxation. The only thing stopping me was the beckoning of Mr. Smith, who was sitting in his desk looking intently up at me.

"Ms. Knight," he calls. "I have something you need to bring Sam." Sam is the peer tutor for Mr. Smith's Geometry class, so it's probably a worksheet or a page of nerdy math jokes. Mr. Smith is clicking away at his computer, no doubt opening the file to print. As it prints, he pulls out a long white envelope and opens it. The now printed paper is folded into thirds and is placed rather unceremoniously into the envelope. Mr. Smith licks it closed and addresses it to Sam.

"Why so fancy?" I ask. He shrugs in response and says:

"Just give it to him."

I grab the envelope and put it into my backpack. On my way out, I glance at my phone, surprised that my mom hasn't texted me yet. It's been seven minutes since the bell rang. I check my messages just in case she said anything about being late. I scroll through the recent texts, and see something that I definitely didn't type.

"You don't have to pick me up on Friday, Katrine offered me a ride."

I definitely didn't write this. But it definitely meant that I didn't have a ride home. May as well ask Katrine.

"R U still at the school?" I typed.

"Yep," she texted back.

"Can I get a ride?"

"Yeah," she texted. "Meet me out front."

A few minutes later I stood on the sidewalk in front of the school's drop-off roundabout. Katrine's incredibly green sedan pulls up and stops in front of me. Katrine is leaning over the wheel and waving enthusiastically at me from behind Landon, who sits in the passenger seat. Landon, who always seems to need a ride - but only when Katrine is driving - gets out of the car and climbs to get in the back so that I can sit in the front with Katrine.