Chapter 1
ELARA
The morning goes out in a blur. The annoying robot alarm that makes me get out of my bed twice, the sound of mom’s voice telling me something important I don’t seem to remember. The mess around me that speaks on its own- the bed that speaks comfort, the table loaded with last year’s book I kept just for the thrills, an envelope full of memories from the previous year. Just all the right kind of chaos that I get blamed for.
The burnt toast adds something to the morning. It does kill to eat something burnt? That’s probably the thing I’ll be complaining about. The coffee is so hot and my mind is too far that I burn my tongue in the end. 2 things to complain about before 8 AM - PERFECT. Did I mention that this all happens while my mom irons my clothes in the background, and my father sleeps in. How I wish I could sleep like that in peace! My eyes feel heavy amongst the sunny morning and unsurprisingly my entire body feels like it came from a cyborg sleep. During that I always have to memorize what I have to do , obviously.
As I slowly take my beautiful time to get ready, I turn on my chaos playlist just for the good vibes. Somehow , I always get screamed at for that. The part where I sit in bed for fifteen minutes to plan my day is uniquely mine to do , and my mom’s to nag about. Oddly that fact that my day is not pre-planned is what scares me more than any of my petty teachers. I make my way downstairs to catch the bus , and voila - a new personality is born. No one seems to care anyway.
The ride falls into place like I planned , with some socializing , mostly people bring up the fact that I’m apparently a nerd because I do my work. The stereotype that I live basically for the grades lives in my head at this point. Today , it’ll probably be an introductory class- the one where I walk onto the floor say something ambitious and they stare for a moment before breaking into muffled laughter. Sometimes I ask myself why I do this - the grades , the debates , acting like those comments don’t hit me. But every time I remember that it wasn’t them crying at night , looking at books wishing they could understand, looking up at boards and saying that’s how it’ll be like when I’m there one day.
In the blink of an eye, I’m back where I spend more time than my actual home . Suddenly the uniform melts into my skin like another layer of skin and I walk through the school with my bag unzipped like I always do. I basically know that place like the back of my mind.I feel uneasy all of a sudden , without my friends- I’m a shell of the person they know in reality. I drag myself to fetch my friends, although my body looks like I’m going to win another debate.
Is it just me or did I feel someone behind me? Oh, the cherry perfume. That’s my calm therapist Emma behind me isn’t it? There goes the surprised face , I think. It’s all an act at this point. She’s probably the one who sneaks you a chocolate on a bad day , and will run to any girl like their mom. She is THE girl’s girl - I’m definitely not trying to be like her. But I’m grateful that I have someone who will kickass if they touched one of her girls.
Behind Emma, runs our May - just like her name everything about her is just a probability. She’s definitely the one who knocks down trays because of her passionate speaking skills or even the one who scares seniors away with her voice.
These two human being will just not leave me alone. As soon as I turn , she starts talking or in her words ” spilling the tea”. Whatever it is I can’t lie, I’m too deep in this to not be curious. Then the times flies, not in the way people say it does - but in the way that my body stays where it is and my mind does spirals - all while my friends pretend not to notice.
" Oh , come one Lara. Please tell me you just heard what I said ” she wails.
" Was I supposed too?” I ask in a very sarcastic tone. Although I’m not good at it , I can pull it off most of the time.
" It’s of no use” she argues
" Could you both stop it , you’re high schoolers not fifth graders!” My therapist replies.
I stick a tongue out in victory , while she pouts. Oh , how I love this chaos , it’s probably the kind you wish it lasts but the kind that probably fades with time. But I did hear what she said , something about an archer. I heard of that name and somehow that makes my stomach twist. That’s the kind of name you heard in hallways while your classmates cry about their grade. Every time I hear it , its “archer did this” , ” archer did that” . And every time I’ve heard it , I just file it into irrelevant. Apparently my dear chattering animal didn’t even talk to him this entire semester. How surprising ? I think.
" Are you out of your dreams yet?”
" Probably not , still dreaming about that chaebol romance ?”
Ughh, how I love and hate these girls. I mention one , ONE unrealistic dream I had and apparently that’s school news at this point. The only thing I do in peace , and that too - they have to ruin it. The idea of chaebol romance isn’t for me though - the man sweeping you up is just not my style. Id rather sweep the man into his level.
" Can you both just stop it !!! It’s embarrassing okayyy .... Anyways I believe we have a class list to get to. What do you say , girls?”
I don’t wait for an answer , just doing it the me way . The office smells like the decision that were made without asking us .The office is packed this time , mostly due to the girls who are fanning over the “gym bros”. Why do they have to make these hallways so depressing? The office is basically hell , and whoever made that decision for that yellow should pay for it. I mean what were they even thinking? --” Lets go for a colorless office that scares the heck out of our children for fun”?! The thoughts float around me like normal , this time taking me a little too away from where I was.
Suddenly the lights are burning into my eyes, my posture shrinks a bit before I take control back. My eyes sweep the room even before I let them- a burning red shoe tied together with laces , a clock still frozen on a time past midnight, the golden bulletin board that hangs all of our grades up. In the middle of it lays the only piece of paper that determines how this year goes. This place literally decides for you , without even asking. And it damn reflects in all the ways this place is so neat and tidy- can’t it be the colorful mess in my bedroom? That thought made me too far-fetched while I heard a lot of chattering.
The girls immediately snapped their head towards me like I was the criminal in that one show I watched ages ago. I tried to read them both- em , excited as ever yet trying to keep a neutral face and May , who looks like she’s just watched someone get the worst penalty in football [ she likes to watch that a lot ].
" Elara , you will not believe who’s in your grade”
- says my great chattering animal , my dear therapist is grinning now [somehow that scares me more than my classroom].
" Lay it on me , em”
" The great and insufferable Archer ” she says grinning.
My heart skips a beat , like its entire rhythm was misled by a single person’s name which I haven’t even paid that much attention to. It’s like the names you give your ear to , but never your complete mind to .His name is like one of those songs on the radio- the ones you don’t pay attention to, yet know every single word.
" Good luck !”
" Why do I feel like an animal waiting to be slaughtered ? Come on! It’s not that bad” I retaliate , but I may have started contemplating his image.
" Of course it isn’t , it’s just worse.” May’s voice rang throughout like the bell ending the day.
" I mean who are we kidding , she’s gonna kill that dude , feel bad for him already” Emma - my therapist - says with a sarcastic tone.
" Whatever the people think” I shrug it off , because if he is really who he says to be - then I’m gonna have a heck of a year .
