The Girl that Hades called Persephone

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Chapter Three

I don’t know much about Debbie, but I only know that she was running late for an 8 am class that she had. I didn’t even hear her come in last night, I must have been dead asleep.

“Crap!” I heard her say. Debbie was starting to panic, rushing clothes together and books being shoved into her canvas bag. “I am so late.”

“Why did you take an 8 am class?” I asked.

“Because I hate myself, that’s why.”

I laughed. “Should have taken a 10 am class.”

“Meh,” she shrugged. “Oh, you and I have dates.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I was talking to this one guy, and he and his buddy wanted to go out this Saturday.”

“Wait, who?”

“His name is . . . Chad . . . I think, who knows. He’s cute.”

“Wait, we just started our semester, I don’t know who he is-”

She stopped rushing around for a second. “Look, I know the type of person you are.

And the way your mother is around you, I can tell you haven’t had much going out and about. And this guy is super cute, so please just pretend to like his friend Saturday?”

“I’ll think about it,” I said, uncovering myself from the bed.

“Great, it’s a date,” she said rushing out.

“It’s not a-”

She slammed the door. She didn’t hear me, nor do I think she really even try to hear me.

I barely knew anyone, and now I was going on a date with someone that doesn’t even know what I look like. I didn’t even know what this maybe Chad guy looked like either.

It was hard to be into this social thing when I didn’t have much of it. I went to a very small rural school where everyone knew each other and their moms.

I only finished with a class of twenty kids. They accepted that I didn’t really talk, and still included me in.

Because, in the small rural town I grew up in, you can’t really be bullying a lot of kids, because then you will have no one to hang out with.

Now, it was thousands of students, and I wasn’t sure how to handle that.

I got up, grabbed my towel, and ran to the shower rooms. I came back after I was done, and searched through my closet for outfits. I didn’t have much. Two pairs of jeans and a couple of shirts. I just grabbed the one that wasn’t that wrinkle and called it good.

It was all you can do sometimes.

I checked my phone. Mom had texted me again this morning. I called her last night, but I didn’t tell her about H. She would ask too many questions.

Besides, it was a nice feeling having something for myself and not having to share.

Hey honey, are you awake?

Steffi, have you gone to class yet?

I love you sugar plum tree, please answer me.

I sighed. She was always like this, and I knew it was going to be worse when I moved out. I tried putting the phone down, but I heard my mother’s voice in my head yelling at me if I didn’t text her back.

I just texted back:

Going to class now, I love you

Disappointment grew on me when I realized H hadn’t text me. Maybe he forgot all about me? It was okay if he did. It was just nice talking to someone that seemed to have a brain.

Around 9, I decided to walk to my first class, despite it being another hour away. It was English 1A, and I have already read all the books for the semester over the summer. Mom and I never owned a TV in our home. We’ve rarely even watched movies.

I can count all the movies we two have watched together on one hand. It’s just something we don’t do. Mom and I were very close with I were little. I never knew my father, but she seemed to be strong without him. I never really cared to know who he was.

Mom would plant flowers in the garden with me. It was always my very memory.

The phone went off. I looked down and didn’t know the number.

Hello, Persephone. I just wanted to let you know I didn’t forget about you.

My heart jumped. It was H.

My fingers twitched. What should I even say to him?

Hello H, it’s good to hear from you


I regretted the LOL part as soon as I sent it, but I felt like I had to throw that in there, to make it less tense with him. I went on walking to my class, feeling myself working up a sweat. It sure wasn’t the weather.

When I got to the class, some people were standing outside too. I didn’t feel like a total dork than, watching other nervous freshmen like me. Some were reading, some were talking, I was glued to my phone.

I usually wasn’t like that. I wasn’t allowed to have a phone until I turned 18, and even then, I was so used to not having one, I didn’t become attended like the other kids my age. But I just wanted to hear, or read, what he had to say.

I felt that nervous butterfly feeling in my stomach, feeling like I wanted to throw up. Was I nervous?

Maybe. It would explain why I wanted to pass out.

My phone rang again, and I checked. It was my mother, sending me a smiley face. I sighed. A part of me is still shocked that she let me actually go to college. She was always clingy, but the last few years were the worse, though I can’t say I didn’t blame her.

She was scared to lose me.

I was scared I wasn’t going to lose myself too.

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