Aiden:
In my defense, I lied to protect my dignity in front of the entire class. How would it have seemed if a high-ranking class rep lost to.... a Britney? Not exactly a good look, right?
After having lunch with Rowan, I entered the class to find out that a crowd was gathered around Britney's desk. I quickly walk towards my desk. I'm definitely not curious.
"If it wasn't for Raya, we'd never know how good you are at art!" One of the girls gushes.
If she was such a good artist, she should have just stayed in the arts classes. Why did she have to come here and wreck a tornado in my mind?
I lean over their shoulders to see what has everyone so mesmerized. It's a sketch. A beach scene. But something about it feels... sad. It wasn't the skill-it's obvious she's incredible-but there's something haunting about the way the stillness of the water contrasts with the noisy chaos of the people on the beach. It's like the scene holds a quiet sorrow.
Then a guy in the group asks, "If you're this good, why'd you leave the arts classes?"
I try to analyze her face because honestly? I was genuinely curious at this point. I had to know the reason. You don't just throw out something you are absolutely brilliant at and completely forget about it. I know I wouldn't. If I had at least half of her talent, I would never abandon it.
After a long silence, Britney replies, "I got bored of it." She shrugged.
Bored? She got bored of something she's brilliant at? Meanwhile, the rest of us are struggling just to figure out what we're good at, and she can afford to just... give it up?
Unbelievable.
I clear my throat, signaling them to move. The entire group turned their heads towards me and then looked at Britney.
"He sits next to me," she says flatly.
"Alright, see you later, Britney," one of the boys speaks, turning on his annoying perfect guy smile. I hate when they smile.
On my way home, I stopped by my mother's school. She was the principal of the elementary school just down the road from mine.
As I approached her office, the bold golden letters on the door read Cecilia Brown, Principal.
I nervously knock on the door, waiting for her answer. My mother never called me here unless it was something really urgent.
"Come in," Her stern but feminine voice called from inside.
I stepped through the door and sank into the chair across from her desk. "You wanted to see me?"
I was her mirror image, the male version completely through. Her bluish-green eyes, identical to mine, perfectly complemented her straight red hair, which was always neatly combed and tucked behind her ear, radiating both authority and grace. Despite her elegant appearance, the most captivating thing about her was the way her face lit up with warmth every time she looked at me. No matter how chaotic life got, that look always felt like pure, maternal love.
"Yes, Danny," she said, her voice softening as her eyes flicked to mine.
"There's a photo shoot this Saturday. Your father asked me to tell you since you've been avoiding his calls," she added, her tone carrying a subtle edge.
Great. Another we're-a-perfect-family-nothing's-wrong photo shoot.
"I'll be there," I replied, keeping my voice neutral.
"Aiden," Her voice took on that quiet, commanding tone she used when she meant something. "If I'm going, so are you."
"Mom, relax," I forced a smile, trying to sound reassuring. "I said I'll be there."
Only for you, but left that part unsaid.
Her gaze lingered on me for a moment before she asked, "So, why haven't you been answering his calls? Did he say something?"
Something? He said too much.
"I've got to head out, Mom. But I'll see you on Saturday, alright?"
Her eyes narrowed, and her voice took on that taking-no-shit tone again. "You don't brush me off, Danny."
I sighed, leaning back in the chair. "It's nothing, Mom. You know how it goes. Every conversation turns into a lecture about how I'm some sort of disappointment. I just decided to skip the drama this month, that's all."
She watched me closely as if deciding whether or not to press further before nodding slightly. "If you say so."
I stood, feeling like I'd dodged a bullet. "Can I go now?"
"Not without a hug," she said with a teasing smile.
"Mom, come on. I'm not eight anymore."
"You'll never be too old for a hug," she teased, her voice radiating with warmth.
"That's such a mom thing to say," I muttered.
She chuckled and ruffled my hair like she always did. "See you Saturday, Danny."
As I left the office, I couldn't help but think about how similar my parents were, yet so completely different. Maybe that's why they're separated-but not divorced. To the outside world, they're still the perfect couple. But behind closed doors, it's all for show.
Still, as long as my mom's happy, that's all that matters to me.
With a mental list of everything I had to do, I stepped out of her office and headed down the hall, picking up the pace when I suddenly bumped into someone near the school gate. A girl. She loses her balance and slips, but before she can hit the ground, I instinctively reach out, catching her by the waist and pulling her close.
In that split second, her hands landed on my chest, and our eyes locked.
Her.