"The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien," Mr. Lawson announces, patting the book resting on his desk. "I know for a fact all of you were required to read and annotate this book last year."
A couple of sighs echo throughout the classroom as the remembrance of the book settles in. It was definitely not the worst book we've had to read to be honest, but annotating itself was a pain in the ass. Then doing a hundred assignments on the book was just cruel.
Not that being in AP Lit is any better. I would kill to drop this class right about now.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You young kids hate reading." Mr. Lawson says, rolling his eyes. "Now someone tell me the purpose before I turn eighty."
Mr. Lawson is around his mid sixties, and he's got a dry sense of humor. His receding hairline is almost completely grey, which he credits to his three sons and daughter.
Unless he's roasting some toasty students, the class turns into everyone's favorite nap time. Not that I'm complaining. I only had two cups of coffee this morning; I'll be ready at four.
Liliana, a quiet girl in the back, raises her hand. "To understand the power of storytelling, Mr. Lawson. Whether it is proper to lie when telling what is supposed to be a true story."
Mr. Lawson nods. "Good, but I want to take it further. What else did we learn from Tim O'Brien as he dived into the different, yet similar, lives of these soldiers? What did he represent?"
The room remains quiet as no one wants to answer. I stare down at my notebook, not in the mood for participating today. Mindless doodles fill my pages instead of notes.
"Ms. Day?"
I silently curse him for picking on me as I reluctantly look up to meet his hopeful face. I think about his question for a second before saying, "Understanding."
He raises his eyebrows, drumming his fingers along his desk. "Care to elaborate?"
I sigh, "By writing his stories in the perspective of the other men such as Rat Kiley and Norman Bowker, O'Brien wanted us to understand the characters in a different light. He wanted us to picture ourselves in their shoes, even if he wasn't exactly telling the truth."
Mr. Lawson claps happily, beaming. "Exactly. Perfectly said, Charli."
I can feel all the eyes on me, making it hard to fight against the urge to sink lower into my chair.
"Understanding is a powerful thing, kids. The capability to understand others on an emotion basis surpasses the ability to understand someone only idealistically. Of course, it would be preferred to be able to do both, but creating emotional bonds with another will make everything so much easier to perceive."
He leans back against his desk, pondering his own thought before continuing.
"O'Brien didn't know some of these men in person. Someone like Bowker simply just sent him a letter asking him to write a story about his life based off of one or two pages of context he provided-"
"Must of been rough." Someone calls out, interrupting him.
Mr. Lawson doesn't seem swayed by the interruption though. Instead he just nods and continues.
"Exactly. And that is why, for this semester's project, I'm going to be assigning you partners outside of this period. I want you all to really get to know someone you probably do not know at the moment."
A collective protest goes around the room, and I join in. My mind begins to reel as I try to think of anyone else I know who's taking AP Lit. Someone I know who's dumb enough like me to take this class.
Well crap.
"Now, it's not that hard of a project so please don't retaliate. The more your cooperate, the easier and more interesting it's going to be. I think you all will enjoy it." Mr. Lawson picks up a piece of paper laid beside him, and begins reading off partner assignments.
Don't retaliate? I can't make any promises at this point because he hasn't even described the project yet, and it sounds sketchy in general-
I zone out until I hear my name being called.
"Charli Day and Caden James from period four." Mr. Lawson reads. My head snaps up so fast that I swear I give myself some good whiplash. I must've heard him wrong; I know Dad likes to joke about me being halfway deaf and all, but I didn't know it was that severe.
Girls all around me gape, and glare in envy. If they want him, they can have him.
I raise my hand without thinking. Mr. Lawson pauses, looking up at me from behind his glasses. "Yes, Ms. Day?"
"About my partner-"
He cuts me off, looking back down at his paper. "Right now is not the time for that. We can talk about it after class."
I slouch further in my chair, silently pleading with the Gods to let me off the hook this one time.
❂ ❂ ❂
Mr. Lawson said no. Just no. I think he even laughed a little.
And I think he basically asked why I'm so butt hurt over Caden. If the old man knew...if only he knew.
I mean he mentioned some crap about breaking stereotypes and the whole purpose of the project, but I don't think he understands that there will be no project if Caden and I murder each other before we even start.
Shoving my books into my locker, I slam it shut as Haisley waves from the other end of the hall. I wave back before watching her run off with her track friends. Sometimes I wish I had joined just because I miss hanging out with her after school.
But then I remember the three mile warm up and move on with my day.
Shaking my head, I adjust my bag before making my way down to my car. I stop short when I see a figure leaned against the hood, yet again.
I blow out an exasperated sigh before bringing myself to move forward. Caden glances up from his phone when he hears me approach cautiously.
A slow grin spreads across his face as he pulls a lollipop out of his mouth. I stop a few feet away from him, tapping my foot as I look up at him expectedly.
"Hey Sugar, how was your day?" He greets, relaxedly. I wouldn't get too comfortable if I were him.
"Since I'm seeing you twice today, I would say not too hot."
He chuckles before looking me over casually. "Well my day just got better."
"Eyes up here, asshole." I snap my fingers, motioning to my face.
"I am well aware of where my eyes should be, Sugar."
My frustration builds as a shit eating smugness takes over his face. "What do you want, Caden?"
"I heard we're doing a Lit project together. Partners." He waves, nonchalantly.
"That's the plan." I agree through gritted teeth. "Believe me, I've already tried to get us both a new one."
"Oh?" He asks, raising a brow. "Well, I don't mind working with you. After all, you have my favorite eraser."
He winks and I flip him off. I dangle my keys at my side, fidgeting with my lanyard.
"Great." Is all I say before shoving him out of the way to get into my car. Except he doesn't let me.
I try to open the door, but he only pushes harder against it to keep it shut. I want to keep trying, but his cinnamon sugar scent is getting all over me. I take three steps back.
"What do you want, Caden?" I snip.
"Well a number would be nice. Since, you know, we have a project to work on." I don't like his sarcastic tone.
I turn to him with an equally sarcastic smile. "Go ahead and just stalk my instagram."
"Ah, the old hard to get move." He places the lollipop back into his mouth, grinning again. I wrinkle my nose in disgust, yanking open my car door.
Catching him slightly off guard, he stumbles a little before quickly readjusting himself. "I'll DM you later, Sugar." He calls through the window.
I turn my music louder, knowing he can hear it. When he clenches his jaw, I smirk before driving off.
"Jerk." I mutter under my breath. I don't look back once.
When I get to a red light down the street, I rest my forehead on my steering wheel.
I never really understood why he would pick me. To constantly pick on me until I break. I have never been anything but normal–boring even. The numbers just don't add up, because all the girls he has ever been seen with only have one personality trait: two faced basic.
And it all adds up to fake lashes and claw nails. Tears and smeared mascara. Death wishes above his head.
The only thing I can say I relate to at the end of the day, in terms of all those girls, is my hatred for Caden James. Luckily, I can spare myself the tears.
Shoving that thought away, I step on the gas as the light turns green.
❂ ❂ ❂
How we ended up in Zayden's living room half delirious and overly full, I wish I could tell you. But nonetheless we're having the best time binging FRIENDS.
"I love Chandler." I exclaim as we all laugh at his joke.
The boys and Haisley nod in agreement. "He's the best."
"Nah, Joey is my man." Zayden claims, smirking. He gives Ryder one of those 'sup nods', "How you doing?"
We fall into a fit of laughter at his horrible impersonation. Zayden can be smooth in his own style, but he's definitely no smooth Tribbiani.
The silence resumes as we focus back on the tv, but I can't help fidgeting with my sweatpants as the thought of the project crosses my mind. Actually, it hasn't left my mind all day.
It's like that damn spider you find in your room, and you can never seem to kill. It keeps coming back again and again until it drives you completely insane.
Taking a slow deep breath, I take my chances.
"Did y'all hear about Lawson's Lit project?" I try to bring up casually.
Ryder nods, "Yeah Kinsley told me about it. A whole semester of y'all making a documentary or something."
"I still don't understand why you talk to her." Haisley huffs, eating a handful of popcorn. Not before chucking a piece at Ryder's face though.
He raises his hands, surrendering. "Clarification: she talks to me, not the other way around. I try to stay at least ten feet away from her perfume."
I snicker, chewing on my chocolate bar. Zayden glances at me, before his eyes flicker back to the tv screen. "What's up about the project, Char?"
I shrug, leaning back against the couch. "Nothing I guess. I just don't know how well this project is going to turn out. I mean a whole ten to twenty minute documentary on understanding someone else and their 'life story'? Bullshit to me."
"I heard you guys got assigned a partner from another period." Ryder brings up, placing his arms behind his head
I nod. Haisley groans, "Please don't tell me you got Kinsley. I'll kill her for you."
I shake my head, silently thanking Mr. Lawson for at least keeping me away from her. I chew on my thumb, focusing on the screen in front of me.
"I think I got someone worse." I wince.
There's a moment of silence before Haisley bursts into laughter. I cut her a glare, but she only starts to wheeze. Rolling over onto her side, she takes a deep breath, leaning on her elbow to look at me.
"No fucking way." She cries, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes.
"No fucking way what?" Ryder wonders, looking completely lost.
I open my mouth, but it snaps shut. A shit eating grin forms on Haisley's face as she wiggles her eyebrows at me.
"I can't believe I was right. It's destiny." She cheers. I grab the nearest pillow and throw it at her. It hits her in the face, but doesn't do anything to smother her laughter.
"Can one of you just tell us what's going on? Like in normal English." Zayden motions between himself and Ryder. Ryder nods slowly in agreement, his eyebrows drawn together.
He seems to be working real hard to try to piece together this tragedy.
"I, uh, got partnered with Caden." I mutter all in one breath.
Zayden's brows furrow. "Come again? In an understandable volume, and at a normal human speaking pace."
I roll my eyes, groaning. I pick up another pillow and press it against my face. Sighing, I set it down in my lap.
"I got paired with Caden James for the stupid Lit project." I announce, letting my arms fall beside me.
Zayden's mouth falls open, and Haisley's laughter only becomes louder as she records everything on snapchat. That should be a fun memory. Ryder stifles his own laughter, covering it with a suspicious cough.
"But that guy's a total ass to you." Zayden blurts.
"Tell me something I don't know." I grimace. "I already talked to Mr. Lawson and he's not making any exception. 'It's part of the project he said.'" I quote.
"This is too good." Haisley quips. I shoot her a deadly glare; I swear I am going to kill her.
"You're not really helping the situation, Hales." She bats her eyes innocently, looking back down at her phone.
"Honestly, he's not that bad." Ryder tries to ensure me, giving me a sympathetic look. "I played football with him in middle school during summer camp."
"Yet you're giving me that look, like I'm a puppy that's about to get run over." I need new friends.
"For real, middle school?" Zayden humors dryly, cracking his knuckles.
Ryder raises his palms in defense. "Hey don't kill the messenger."
Haisley pats him on the cheek. "It's okay sweetheart. I'll see you in hell."
"I-"
"Now isn't the time to form a cult guys." Zayden interrupts, scoffing.
"I'm pretty sure Char and I already made some blood promise back in middle school." Haisley admits, shrugging.
"That's what that was? I thought you just wanted to have Bluffy The Vampire Slayer vibes or some creepy shit." I trail off.
"You're adorable, Char." She blows me a kiss, which I don't return. What a sneaky-
"Okay, but for real, Caden can't be that bad. Once I crack him like the coconut he is-" I start.
"Coconut? What is this? Moana? " Ryder laughs, resulting in him getting a pillow thrown at his face.
I tut, "If what you said is true Ry, then I bet I can crack him. For long enough to finish our project anyways."
There's a beat of silence as we all look at each other, nobody saying anything. Zayden stands, stretching. "It's time for pizza."
"Didn't we already have pizza?" Haisley looks towards me.
"And popcorn." Ryder adds.
"Oh and ice cream, fruits, sour patch kids, whipped cream, and soda?" I continue. Gosh, how much do the four of us actually eat?
If Marcheline and Emery were here, they would have already called us out on it. But both have practice tonight; Marcheline ice skating and Emery cheer.
Zayden scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. "There's no reason not to add on Hot Pockets then."
Ryder gives him the thumbs up. "Go for it then dude. They better pepperoni though." He rubs his stomach dramatically.
"You're such a pig." Haisley whacks his abdomen.
A small 'oomph' escapes Ryder's mouth as he glares down at her. "Ouch. No need to be violent, babe."
"She has a point." I pop a piece of popcorn into my mouth, not wanting to be the third wheel right now. "You've always been a little piggy crying wee wee wee."
He flips me off, "Says the girl who ate her glue covered macaroni necklace in kindergarten."
I gasp. He did not just go all the way back. "Oh, I see how it is, Noll."
Haisley falls off the couch laughing. "Oh my gosh. You ate the glue-"
"Ha ha, I was fucking five years old." I cross my arms defensively. "You know what, at least I didn't pee my sleeping bag in first grade during nap time."
Ryder's glare practically sends me a death wish. "I had a bladder infection." He says through gritted teeth.
Haisley's laughter explodes as she curls into a ball on the floor. She looks as if she's crying, rocking back and forth, but her faced is scrunched in clear laughter.
"Boohoo for you because two can play this game. And I don't loose." I jest. Except I don't expect the handful of M&Ms he chucks at me.
"Oh heck no, buddy." I yell, grabbing the popcorn, throwing its remains at him. I never miss.
"What the hell did I miss?" Zayden asks incredulously, tiptoeing back into the living room. He eyes the food laying across the long couch, and floor. He sighs, "I'm getting a broom for you guys. I ain't cleaning that up. Y'all better clean it before my Mom comes down to check on us. She'll beat your sorry asses."
"Yes sir."
Haisley wipes her eyes as she crawls back onto the couch. "You two are horror stories waiting to be revealed."
"A series of unfortunate events. Don't even get me started." I mutter, checking my phone. Nothing from Caden or Mom.
I guess, at least for tonight, everything will be fine.
When Zayden doesn't return in ten minutes, I decide to check up on him. I walk through the dark hallway until I reach the laundry room. His back is to me, as he's hunched over, typing quickly on his phone. I lean against the door, studying him a minute before clearing my throat.
Startled, he shoves his phone in his pocket as he turns towards me. He gives me a guilty grin, before holding up the broom still in his hand. "Found it."
I cross my arms, moving across the small room, before hopping on top of the washer. Swinging my legs slightly, I give him a look. "What's wrong, Zay?"
He hangs his head slightly, running a hand through his cropped hair. He looks back up at me, observing me. I scan his face trying to read him, but I can't. He's always been a hard person to read, despite how well I know him.
"Nothing. I'm just tired and a little out of it I guess." He gives me a lopsided grin.
I don't buy it for a second. "Well, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But just know that I don't buy that crap for a second."
His smile drops slowly, "Yeah, I know you don't."
I open my arms, pulling him in for a hug. He rests his chin on my shoulder, as I rub soothing circles along his back. I'm not sure what's bothering him, but it's probably not good.
"I'm always here." I whisper. I feel him nod ever so slightly against my neck.
During sophomore year, when my Mom became the most depressed she has ever been, Zayden was there for me. Of course I had Haisley and everyone else whom I'm grateful for, but Zayden was there at 4am when I had panic attacks and breakdowns of my own.
"You don't have to worry about me, you should worry about yourself." He says gruffly, taking a step back. I kick his leg lightly.
"Oh?"
"With your project and all. I don't want you getting hurt."
Something twists in my stomach as I realize he probably means more than just Caden's usual comments.
"You worry too much about others and not yourself, Zay. I will be fine, and you know that. Ryder said that Caden deep, deep, deep, deep down is a good person."
Zayden snorts, "How deep does his soul go?"
I shrug, "Maybe to heaven or hell. We'll find out soon."
"Plus, I'm pretty sure Ryder was an ass back in kiddy football camp." He smirks.
I shove his shoulder, "Shut up. At least he's not a player now." He's very right though. Elementary and early middle school Ryder were...different. I've lived through most of the stories with him before he moved.
"Yeah, I got pretty lucky in the friend department." He murmurs, holding my stare. There's a pause; a real silent and comfortable one. Except everything about it is full of tension.
Something I'm not sure I want to discover.
I clear my throat lightly, averting my eyes. I smile at ground, before humming Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka, something we used to sing together in sophomore year. We're definitely not amazing singers, but it was kind of a thing.
We end up laughing at how off key I go with my horrible rendition of the song. I never do it justice.
"Remember when we were kids?" Zayden asks, hoping onto the drying machine next to me. He swings his legs against mine, nudging my shoulder with his.
I snort, "I hardly call you being fourteen and me thirteen being kids in freshman year."
He shrugs, "Maybe not, but it was easier back then."
"Maybe so, or maybe not."
I can never one hundred percent agree to that statement, so I don't.
Zayden might be right though; back then it was about friendship bracelets and cookies. Or at least on the surface level. For my family and I, nothing has been 'easy' for the past years, and they will never be again. It just can't be.
He scoots closer to me, laying his head on top of mine. He likes to tease that I'm too short for him to rest his head on my shoulder; I'm a minion. But it ain't my fault he's as tall as a freaking tree.
I continue to hum, before glancing down at my watch. "We should probably get back now. I don't want to miss too much of Chandler."
He pats the machine as he slides off of it. He offers me a hand, which I don't need but take anyways. "What should we say? We lost the broom and had to search through Wonderland?"
"Ryder's stupid but not that stupid." I remind him.
"I guess you're right, Sherlock. Until next time." He tips an imaginary top hat. I tsk, rolling my eyes as I take the arm he holds out. What a cheesy dork.
"Until tomorrow, Watson. Until tomorrow."
❂ ❂ ❂
Ah yes, so it begins. I have a feeling that some trouble shall be brewing between Caden and Charli. This chapter was honestly more analytical than it needed to be at the beginning, but hey, y'all got a free lecture from me *aLSo mY eNgLiSh hOnoRS tEacHEr*
As always thank you for reading, and please don't forget to vote and comment!
This story will hopefully evolve more smoothly as we keep going, so please stick around for when I actually get my shit together. But hey in the meantime, SCD hit 2k reads and 300+ votes, so thank you so much bc that's freaking amazing! <3
It's currently 2am for writing Kat, so editing Kat will be back soon to publish this. I hope y'all have a great day or night, and I'll see you in Chapter 8 ;)
PS *aGaiN*: Don't forget to go nominate books for the Fiction Awards! Not saying this book (FeTUs aLErT bUT iF yOU dO it's GREATLY appreciated), but just in general! *cOuGH I RECOMMEND Life In Hiding, Life In Search, Life In Love, and In The End by Honey_Money_ *
-K :)