Chapter 1
Another day at school is almost over; I find myself staring desperately at my watch hoping for the day to go by just a little quicker. For the life of me, I have no idea why the personal development class is even a thing. I can see no reason to waste time on the subject. After all, I do not need someone to lecture me about my personal life. The atmosphere is not helped by the fact that this classroom reminds me of one of the re-education camps from one of my younger sister’s history books. The cheap single-pane windows, the dirty white walls, and an equally boring and stupid topic to boot. I don’t need one hour of ‘risk management’ training, I need to study for the end-of-year exams. That is my priority!
My already foul mood isn’t helped by somebody’s stealth passing of gas. Instinctively, I turn left to see if my twin will burst out in violent laughter much like last time. She tends to do that quite a bit due to usually being the culprit; the result is usually the same, getting kicked to the hallway. This time around, she was attempting to hold it in. This is not unexpected, but I would bet good money that she fails and gets kicked to the curb. The miraculous spectacle does not disappoint me in the slightest. Her heavily freckled face turns red as her hair. Much to my surprise, she maintained composure. But then again, Murphy’s law applies to no one more than her. And as that law would have it, a stray paper plane sticks itself in the back of her bright red hair sending her down the warpath.
She jumps to her feet, her chair flying backward and smashing against the desk behind her. “Who dares challenge me!? I will find you and beat you senseless!” And there it is, her fiery temper. It is a gift that keeps on giving.
“Murphy Patton!! Calm down this instant!” The teacher yells.
“WHAT!! Calm down?! We both know that I am justified here!”
“No, not at all. Now go stand in the hallway until you figure out why you shouldn’t have an emotional outburst in class. And don’t even get me started about your anger management issues.”
I find it rather amusing to watch her shamefully leave the classroom as she discovers just how much she screwed up. That was entertaining, but there are other things to be concerned about. Things such as whether or not Christina will make me and Murphy wait for her to pull her own head out of the back end and return to reality.
“Murphy!!” the teacher yells a short while later, “You are welcome back into class; but only if you can keep your mouth shut.”
Almost instantaneously, Murphy quietly slides the classroom door open and walks in. Much to my surprise, she does not say a thing on her way back to her seat. Thankfully this horrid class is coming to an end in the next fifteen minutes allowing me to move on to the mundane task of organizing homework by priority and difficulty all to spend as little time at school as humanely possible. Here is to hoping for a smooth trip home, but I know my luck, it’s just the worst. I wince at the sound of a stupid twin seemingly missing her chair and becoming one with the floor. I turn to find my twin sister, Murphy sitting on the floor holding her bloody nose as she groans in pain. “Looks like she lives up to her name.” I hear someone mutter in the back of the class, I feel bad for whoever said that. They don’t have long left.
“Oh shut your trap already! You might start catching flies in it. Now that I think about it, it was you who pulled my chair out from under me!” She angrily yells from the floor.
Since this will likely resolve itself, and hopefully without bloodshed; I don’t deem this situation worthy of any more attention and move on to whatever else I was doing. This could be my opportunity to finish an outline of all the topics that will be on the upcoming test. All that remains for me to prepare for are math and English, neither one thrill me. Now that I think about academics, Murphy has always been the happy-go-lucky type; up until now, she has always done the bare minimum to get by and avoid repeating a class. It must be nice to be an absolute idiot with no sense of self-consciousness or self-preservation. Just as the saying goes, “Ignorance is bliss.”
“This concludes the lesson, this was the last self-improvement class of the year. I hope that you will all make informed and educated decisions during your summer and do well on your remaining end-of-year exams. And Murphy, you have my sympathy.” With that the class ends.
“Hey! Martin! I challenge you to a duel between gamers when we get home.” She energetically shouts as if nothing had happened.
“Not now, Murphy. I have tests to study for, and so do you.”
“What are you talking about? Studying is lame and for nerds like Christina.”
“Don’t you dare put me in the same pile as that brat!”
“Aww, did I hit a nerve?”
“That does it!” I grab my English book and slap her clean across her freckled face, leaving a red imprint on her cheek.
“Eeeep!!” She squeals upon impact. “Did your only two brain cells finally make contact?! Or should I wack you again to make sure they do!”
“Why you… You are so getting the knuckle sandwich.” I just about jump out of my skin as she pulls a cricket out of her cargo pocket flinging it at me in retaliation. Before I can act in vengeance , she runs off, leaving me to deal with the insect as I give her the death glare. I then notice her untied shoes; that is when my anger turns to pity. She throws the classroom door open and sprints through. Just as I lose my line of sight, I hear her collide with someone. I rush over to see who it was and find that Murphy had run Mr. Adams over. That teacher could only be described as round and built like a gorilla; part of me expected him to roll down the hall and the other expected him to hit the floor like a poorly inflated basketball.
“For the last time Murphy, watch where you are going! While you are at it, tie those shoes!” With that, he picks himself up and walks off as if nothing had happened. I glare at the disgrace I call my twin: she is laying face down on the floor and twitching like a poisoned roach. There must be some sort of disconnect between her tiny brain and the rest of her body; the impact had to have knocked something loose in there.
I pause for a few moments to debate my next choices: I could leave her on the floor and go find my younger sister or I could drag my stupid half with me. Leaving her there would be easier because, it would be a lot quieter around here. With that, I decide to leave her there. The sound of quick footsteps catches my attention. I find my younger sister running at her top speed heading in my direction. I wonder what her damage is? I think to myself as I grace Christina with a pitiful glare. Since she is here now, I can have her help me drag Murphy home. I think nothing of it and head to the back of the classroom to grab my bag. Before I can make it to my seat, I hear a squeal followed by the dull thud of a body hitting the floor. I toss my bag over my shoulder and rush out to lay eyes on this sad sight. My two sisters are sprawled out in the hallway. What a miracle of misfortune. I think to myself while rubbing my forehead.
“Christina! Are you all right?” A familiar voice interjects.
“Hey Jean, welcome to the jungle or whatever this is.”
“Well, it sure seems that way.” She comments as she helps Christina off the floor.
Out of pity, I repack Murphy’s bag and sling it over my other shoulder. If I wait any longer, Mom will have my hide. Not that being home on time will change the outcome; Christina likely has a bruise on her head and Murphy a busted nose, explaining this to Mom will suck. Why does she have to hold me accountable for those two liabilities? I push those unpleasant thoughts to the back of my mind and grab Murphy by the leg. I start dragging Murphy with me until she comes to her senses.
“Until we meet again.” Christina cheerfully calls out to her only friend as she follows me down the corridor.
Murphy wakes up after getting dragged her the length of the hallway. “Let go of me! I can walk you know.”
“In my defense, you passed out on the floor after you tripped over your untied shoelaces.” I drop her leg and she jumps to her feet.
“I forgot my bag in the classroom. Wait here, I will only be a few minutes.” Christina says in a panic.
“Could you not have said this earlier? Well, this had better be quick. Otherwise, I will leave you here.”
“And receive a scolding from Mom? I think not.” She snarlingly replies.
“I am so going to invert her face,” I mutter between clenched teeth.
“Yea! Punch her ugly!” Murphy adds on.
“She already is. You should keep your mouth shut, every time it opens something stupid falls out.”
Christina turns to leave us and runs back into the building, leaving us standing in the courtyard. Once I hand Murphy her bag, she pulls out a large sunhat. “The sun is too bright. I’ll get burned in no time.” Murphy complains before going back to poking at pebbles around the flagpole.
Just like any other, it’s another summer day. The sun is hot and everything around me is either dead or browning. Right about now, I wish my skin could do the same; I was unfortunately not born with that luxury. To pass the time, I put my bag down and pull out my notebook hoping to go over my topic outlines. This way, my time here won’t be completely wasted.
“Nerd,” Murphy mumbles at me.
“You should study as well or you will get held back a year and end up in the same class as Christina.” Murphy freezes up; within a split second, she pulls her empty notebook out of her bag.
“Can I have your notes?” she asks.
“Since when do you want to study? But either way, we can go over English notes. I can go over more topics once we get home.” I go over my English class outlines and much to my amazement, she actually pays attention, I never thought I would see the day. Maybe her fear of being in the same class as Christina due to getting held back is greater than her fear of studying. In the end, I decided to simply hand my notebook off to Murphy since she is a slow writer. She picks up her notebook and sits against the base of the flagpole to copy my notes, leaving me to my own devices.
I lean back and let out a disgruntled sigh. I and Murphy are both pale-skinned redheads, I simply can’t get a tan. The closest thing I can get to a tan would be a nasty sunburn with some freckles as a by-product. It’s been about 25 minutes of me sitting in the sunlight and getting burned. If I only had a penny in my name to gamble, I would bet that she found a book and began reading again to make up for lost time. Five more minutes and I will send my very angry and sunburned redhead twin after her.
My attention is diverted to the familiar nuisance of a squeaky door slamming closed with a short nerdy figure emerging from the opening; there is no doubt, it’s my nerd sister who is responsible for my new sunburn. With one hand she pushes a pair of large round crimson-red glasses up her nose and with the other, she holds onto her bag. I can’t quite make it out but she mutters something under her breath. Knowing her, it was something condescending.
