Still You

“What? An A-minus?”

I stared at the red ink stamped on my Literature test in sheer disbelief. An A-minus? On my paper?

“Sir! Sir Garett!” I called out, waving my paper frantically as he passed out the rest of the exams.

The classroom was a chaos of shuffling feet and loud chatter, and he didn't seem to hear me. Desperate, I stood up from my desk to catch him before he left, but a wall of classmates blocked the path. By the time I maneuvered my way through the crowd, Sir Garett was already stepping into his office and closing the door.

I marched down the hallway and stopped right outside his office door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Come in” his voice called out from inside.

I pushed the door open and headed straight for his desk. “Sir, you made a mistake on my test paper. You gave me an A-minus.”

Sir Garett didn't even look flustered. “I thoroughly checked all test papers after I mark them to prevent situations like this. I made no mistake.”

“But Sir, you did” I retorted.

“I did not” he countered calmly, leaning back in his chair. “Have you gone through the paper yourself?”

“Yes, I have” I lied without missing a beat.

“So you’ve seen your mistake?”

Mistake? What mistake? My brain scrambled.

“Hand me your paper” Sir Garett instructed. I handed it over, and he pointed a finger directly at a line halfway down the page. “Right here. You misspelled a word.”

What? Me? I misspelled a word? That was impossible. I didn't do typos, and I certainly didn't misspell vocabulary.

“Sir, are you sure you didn't manipulate my answer?” I blurted out, still completely bewildered.

The atmosphere in the office instantly shifted. Sir Garett’s eyes flared with sudden anger. “I did no such thing!” he snapped, slamming his hand down onto the wooden desk. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing? How dare you disrespect me like this?”

He stood up, pointing a rigid finger straight at the doorway. “GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!”

I stood rooted to the spot, frozen by his sudden fury.

“Did you not hear me?” he barked.

Gathering what little pride I had left, I turned around and stormed out of his office, slamming the heavy wooden door behind me just to prove how infuriated I was.

I have never gotten below an A-plus in my life, I fumed silently as I stomped back toward class. This is completely unacceptable.

“Kimmy! Kimmy! Kimmy!”

I turned around just in time to see Kelsea charging down the hallway toward me, her arms wide open like she was coming in for a dramatic cinematic embrace. Before she could reach me, her shoe caught the edge of a rogue banana peel on the floor.

“Whoa—!”

I reached out to grab her, but her momentum took us both down. I hit the floor flat on my back with a soft thud, Kelsea landing directly on top of me. Her wild, curly brown hair tumbled over both our faces.

She casually tucked a stray curl behind her ear and grinned down at me. “Hey, Kimmy! What’s up?”

“Help us up first,” I groaned.

We scrambled to untangle ourselves, only to see two large, open hands extended toward us from above. We each grabbed a hand and were pulled effortlessly back onto our feet.

“Thanks!” we said in unison.

When I looked up to see our saviors, my jaw nearly dropped. Standing in front of us were Barry and Benito—Princeton High's golden duo. Barry was the captain of the basketball team, and Benito was his co-captain. The two were virtually inseparable, built like walking architecture with glowing caramel complexions. Barry was slightly taller, with sleek, coal-black hair styled neatly to one side over his forehead, striking sea-blue eyes, and a broad frame that looked almost too perfect to be real. Benito sported dark dreadlocks, piercing green eyes, and an easygoing charm that made him every girl’s crush.

Especially Kelsea’s. She’d had a secret crush on Benito for months—a secret she had swore me to secrecy over. Me? I was happily single, holding out for 'the one.'

Without hesitating, Kelsea threw her arms around Benito to 'thank' him for saving her from the floor. Meanwhile, Barry kept a firm grip on my hand, pulling me into a quick 360-degree spin as his blue eyes scanned me from head to toe.

“I’m alright” I said quickly, catching my balance to stop him from spinning me again. “Thanks, really.”

Kelsea finally released Benito, and we turned to head back to class.

“So” Kelsea asked, side-stepping to walk beside me, “what’s really up?”

I held up my Literature test like a piece of crime scene evidence. “This is what’s up.”

Kelsea scanned the front page. “Wow, Kimmy! You got an A. Congrats!”

“It’s an A-minus” I corrected grimly.

“It’s still an A!”

“No, it’s not.”

Kelsea raised her hands in defeat. “Well, if you say so”

“What was with that random hug back there?” I countered, throwing her a pointed look. “I thought you said you were playing it cool around Benito?”

“And I am!” she insisted, flashing me an suspiciously wide smile.

“Hmmmm... right,” I murmured, letting the topic slide.

Kelsea wasn't just my best friend—she was my only friend. We’d been inseparable since the fourth grade, when she walked right up to my desk with her bright smile, rosy cheeks, and bouncy brown curls and asked if we could be friends. She had a smile that could light up a whole room. We’d survived basic school together, landed at Princeton High together, and were even taking the exact same class schedule in Class 1A. We were practically linked by fate, and we both planned on keeping it that way all the way through college.

When we stepped back into Class 1A for Literature, Sir Garett was already standing at the front of the room.

“Good afternoon, class” he announced.

“Good afternoon, Sir” the class chorused back. I stayed silent.

Beside me on the left, Kelsea suddenly let out a muffled giggle, burying her face in her hands to keep Sir Garett from hearing.

“What’s so funny?” I whispered.

“Look at his trousers and his shirt” she whispered back, snickering.

I peeked at Sir Garett's wrinkled, slightly mismatched outfit, and a burst of laughter escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

Sir Garett’s head snapped toward our side of the room. “What are you two laughing at?”

Kelsea instantly straightened her posture and pointed a betrayal-filled finger at me. “I wasn't laughing, Sir. It was all Kimmy.”

Sir Garett’s glare locked onto me. “What’s so funny, Kimmy?”

“Nothing, Sir” I answered, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

“Oh? So you just happened to start laughing right when I walked in?”

“No, Sir.”

“Your story makes no sense,” Sir Garett said sternly. “But to redeem yourself, answer this: spell 'the'.”

“T-H-E” I answered immediately.

“Oh, so now you can spell 'the'? You’re sure it’s not T-E-H?” Sir Garett teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’m positive” I replied quietly.

“You may take your seat.”

The rest of the class looked completely lost, but I knew exactly what just happened. He was rubbing my test mistake in my face!

“What are the types of literature?” Sir Garett called out to the room. “Yes, Kimmy?”

“Sir, I didn't raise my hand” I protested.

“Did I say you did?”

“No, Sir.”

“Good. Answer the question.”

I suppressed a sigh. “Written and oral literature.”

“Correct” he said. “Now, what is prose?” Silence filled the room. “No hands? Fine. Kimmy, answer.”

I stood up. “Prose is ordinary written language, like short stories or novels.”

“Thank you.”

For the remainder of the period, every single question was thrown directly at me until the final bell rang.

“Kimmy, what was all that about?” Kelsea asked as soon as class dismissed.

“Don’t even start” I grumbled, grabbing my books and heading out into the hallway.

I unlocked my locker, shoved my heavy binder inside, and went to slam the door shut—only to find Kelsea standing right behind it with a sheepish grin.

I ignored her, clicked my locker shut, and turned to walk away. Before I could take two steps, Kelsea ambushed me from behind, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist and resting her chin right on my shoulder.

“I know you’re mad, but I’m really sorry!” she whined.

“I don’t care” I said, peeling her hands off my waist and taking a step back.

Kelsea spun me around so we were eye-to-eye, wrapping her arms back around me in a tight bear hug. “I am not letting you go until you forgive me!”

“Kelsea, leave me alone.”

“Nope!”

We stood frozen in the middle of the crowded hallway for what felt like eternity. Slowly, Kelsea’s grip started slipping as her arms grew tired from holding me for so long.

“Fine” Kelsea sighed, finally dropping her arms. “What can I do so you’ll forgive me? Can I take you out for food?”

“Don’t bother.”

“Okay, how about I teach you how to apply makeup, get pedicures and manicures, and teach you how to swim?” she offered, her eyes gleaming with hope.

Even though I actually did want to learn all of those things, I kept my poker face on. “No.”

“How about a solemn oath?” Kelsea proposed, standing straight up at attention and placing her right hand over her heart like she was reciting the national pledge. “I, Kelsea, promise to stay by Kimmy’s side in sickness and in health, to be her strength in times of weakness, till death do us part.”

I couldn't help the smile that cracked through my stern expression. “Alright, you’re forgiven. And remember that last part! Oh—and we’re definitely doing the makeup and swimming lessons.”

Kelsea gasped. “I thought you said NO!”

“Do you want me to un-forgive you?”

“No, no! Just checking!” Kelsea giggled, visibly relieved to have her best friend back. “Come on, let’s go eat lunch! Catch me if you can!”

She darted down the corridor toward the cafeteria. I laughed and took off running right after her.

I took three rapid steps around the hallway corner—and slammed straight into a solid chest.

My feet slipped out from under me, and I braced myself for the hard tile floor, but a strong arm wrapped around my waist in an instant, catching me inches from the ground.

My eyes locked onto a pair of intense sea-blue eyes. The loud ambient noise of students chatting in the cafeteria completely faded into the background. For a second, the whole world stopped moving.

After a beat, Barry pulled me smoothly upright, settling me on my feet like we were completing a ballroom dance routine. A subtle scent of strawberry cologne drifted off his jacket. Wait... strawberry? Do guys wear strawberry cologne now?

I quickly took a step back to put some distance between us. “Thank you.”

“Is this going to become a regular routine?” Barry teased, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Me rescuing you every time you trip?”

“I certainly hope not” I replied, straightening my uniform jacket.

“Honestly, I wouldn't mind” Barry continued, leaning in slightly. “Lifting you up is like lifting a feather.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Hey, who are you calling a feather?”

“Hey, don't misquote me” he chuckled smoothly. “Look, I’d love to stay and tease you some more, but I’ve got a basketball game to get ready for. See you out there?” he called out, backing up toward the gymnasium doors.

“And who said I’m coming?” I shouted back, folding my arms.

“We’ll find out!” Barry flashed one last dazzling smile before pushing through the double doors to the court.

I shook my head, fighting a reluctant smile, and grabbed a lunch tray inside the cafeteria. Once I picked up my food, I scanned the crowded room until I caught sight of Kelsea frantically waving at a table in the center.

“I was starting to think you got lost or were still mad at me,” Kelsea said as I sat down across from her.

“Oh no, something happened” I said, setting my tray down.

Kelsea leaned in across the table, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “Don't you mean Barry happened?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Here, try these! Today’s fries go perfectly with the ketchup,” Kelsea interrupted, shoving a golden french fry straight into my mouth before I could interrogate her any further.

“Mmm, actually, these are really good” I admitted, chewing.

Kelsea dropped her fry and rested her elbows on the table. “Okay, now tell me what really happened between you and Sir Garett earlier.”

“It was nothing.”

“Tell me, tell me, tell me!” Kelsea whined like a toddler begging for a bedtime story.

“Alright, fine” I sighed. “When I saw the A-minus, I went to his office to tell him he made a mistake. He showed me that I misspelled 'the,' and then I... kind of accused him of manipulating my paper. Which made him furious.”

Kelsea’s eyes went wide. “Aha! So that's why he made you spell 'the' in front of the whole class! He was sending you a message!”

“Yep,” I groaned.

“Well, now that that mystery is solved, we need to hurry up and finish eating because we have somewhere to be!” Kelsea announced, scarfing down the rest of her food.

“Where?” I asked, thoroughly confused.

“The basketball court!” we both blurted out at the exact same moment.

“Jinx!” we shouted together, bursting into laughter.