Page 22 of We Thought We Were Invincible
“What we've been writing is technically nonfiction, but it's prepared you for the first fiction project. Fiction,” he paused, “is a multi-faceted beast. No two people write it the same, in part because it stems from our experiences, or the people we've met in our lives. Callie.” He looked me in the eye. “If you and Morgan went out for the weekend together and did, saw, felt the exact same things, you would still experience it differently.
“So, here's what's going to happen. I have one other creative writing class and I've come up with a list, pairing each of you with someone in that class. Tomorrow during the freshman assembly period, you seniors will have study hall. Instead, meet in this room and you will begin to work with your partners.
“What is this brilliant project, you ask?” He grinned. “We are going to attempt to tame the beast while proving that much of writing is subjective. You and your partner will be tasked with sharing an experience. Do something you wouldn't normally do. Have a little fun. Then you will each write a fictional story about a character who does and experiences what you did. You will name your characters and write in third person. Remember, we are using our experiences to write a fictional story, not a step-by-step account of what occurred.”
He held up a sheet of paper and smiled at the nervous faces around the room. “Here are the pairings. I'll pass this around and then let you work on today's prompt until the end of class.”
No one worked as they watched the list wind around the rows of desks. Morgan snatched it from the girl in front of her, her eyes scanning the page.
“Ew,” she said, looking shocked at the volume of her voice. “Matthew Franklin.” This time, her voice was lowered and directed only at me and her friends that sat around us. They started muttering about how it wasn't fair. The words “creep” and “freak” were used.
I stayed quiet. I didn't know Matthew well, but I knew his grandfather. Seth Franklin was a regular at the diner and one of the sweetest people I knew. It felt disloyal to him to join in disparaging Matthew. But that didn't stop the words from slipping past my lips. Something inside me just wanted to be a part of this group.
“I can't believe Mr.Chase would put you with him.” My gut clenched at my own words.
Morgan's friends nodded toward me in approval and the clenching eased, replaced by the tingling of acceptance.
“At least he put you with a friend.” Morgan handed the list to me.
“Who?” I ran down the names, finding mine in the middle of the page. Sliding my finger over to the name opposite of mine, I froze.
Jamie Daniels.
“I would kill to partner with Jamie,” Hannah, Morgan's friend, singsonged.
I couldn't think of anything else the rest of class, knowing Jamie would be more pissed about this pairing than me. I considered what I'd said to him and again failed to see how I'd screwed up so bad. I basically told him he had it good and was always trying to mess up his perfect life. That was true, wasn't it?
Jay's voice popped into my head. There was a family secret. One that could explain everything. Did I have a right to know it? I knew the answer to that was a resounding no, but Jay would tell me, anyway. I just had to wait two more days to see him.
The bell rang, and I hadn't written a single word of the in-class work. Closing the notebook on my blank page, I shoved it into my backpack and followed Morgan out the door.
9
Callie
“I think there's enough salt in that shaker, Cal.” Colby snatched the salt out of my hand.
Glancing down, I realized I'd overfilled the small glass container and the extra salt was spread across the counter.
“Shit,” I muttered, cupping my hand at the edge and pushing the excess salt into it.
“You cool, sis?”
“Fine.”
Colby shrugged and walked off to take a nearby table's order. He had a game the next night so their coach had given them tonight off. Meaning he was working.
Kat was back in the kitchen, trying to push through a major kitchen backup. It was busy, which was odd for a Thursday, especially since the snow birds weren't due back for another couple months. Summer and fall were pretty lean for us. Heck, so was the winter, but a little less so.
In an ideal world, Aunt Kat wouldn't have to work in the kitchen at all. She'd just be able to manage the place. We didn't live in an ideal world and we couldn't afford more help, so she ended up doing more work than any one person should.
I wiped down the counter that still had remnants of my salt fiasco and pulled the order pad out of my apron as someone sat down. Surprise kept me from moving forward for a moment as I took in Mr.Chase's appearance. The cardinal rule of being a teenager was we weren't supposed to have to see our teachers outside of school. To us, they didn't have lives outside of that room.
But here he was, looking good in running shorts and an Under-Armor t-shirt. His hair was ruffled and damp with what I assumed was sweat since his face shone with it as well.
I forced my feet forward. “Mr.Chase, hi.”
He looked up from the menu in front of him and his smile widened. “Callie. Do you work here?”
