Author's Note: This is just a side project I'm working on, half because I'm stuck with Ten Years, Twenty-Eight Days and half for NaNoWriYe. It'll be fairly short, I'm only planning on it being a novella. The first two chapters are meant to introduce the two main characters. A lot of questions will be answered later, so be patient.
1: Carolina
The world is fucked up, Carolina Smith thought as she sat down in her second period math class.
She rested her head on her thick orange Geometry textbook, her chocolate brown hair falling forward, shielding her face like a curtain. Inside, she nursed her wounded pride, dressing its wounds for the millionth time. It was Friday -- another week down, another week survived. Carolina mentally calculated how many more until she could graduate and hide in the attic for the rest of her life.
She lost count at 113 and groaned.
Why must people I never interact with and never get to know hate me so much? she asked herself in frustration, her blood boiling. Further rage was contained by the late bell ringing proud and true at ten seconds off 8.45. It did this every weekday that was not a holiday or summer, winter, or spring breaks.
Carolina lived by these bells. During the 54-minute segments of class time between each, she was safe under the watchful eye of teachers. But there were six minutes and a half-hour of lunch time that she was vulnerable.
God bless shortcuts and the library.
Mr. Hanesworth, the closet homosexual (with a secret penchant for watching his male students closely) and highly incompetent Geometry teacher, stood up at the front of the room to try and call the class to order. Carolina rolled her emerald eyes and glanced at the clock and the seat next to her. It was three minutes into the class; he would show up any minute --
As if on cue, Trevor Jones walked in just as Carolina noticed the correlation between the time and his empty seat. She swore internally, wishing the oversized thug would have chosen that day to ditch.
She wished that a lot.
The Neanderthal, should-have-graduated-two-years-ago student sat down in his seat, grinning stupidly at Carolina, who averted her eyes. She turned to a blank page in her notebook and started a mad session of doodling, trying to shut out the insults that she knew were coming.
“Hey, stupid,” Trevor shot at her. She bent her head lower and pretended not to hear him.
At least he’s original, Carolina thought dryly.
“What, stupid, can’t talk to me?” he drawled, placing special emphasis on the word “talk.” “Too good to talk to me? Or is it a… p-p-problem?”
Carolina wanted to snap at him, to tell him to shut up, to give him what for. Words, phrases, sentences of rage bubbled in her head, itching to burst forth.
She knew better than to try and give them voice, though. Her cheeks flushed as her self-hatred grew.
“Whassamatter, can’t speak up for yourself?”
No. No she couldn’t.
Mr. Hanesworth finally wised up to what was going on at the back of his classroom and snapped at Trevor to quiet down and pay attention thank-you-very-much-I-don’t-appreciate-disrespect-from-you, and then he was off on another deluded rant for which he was legendary. There was a quiet but collective groan and each and every student lost interest, turning to their own methods of in-class entertainment.
Trevor lost interest in his prey and laid his head down for a nap. Carolina glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention, at least to her, and scooted her desk back to the wall, spending the rest of the period quietly crying into her sleeves.
During passing period, she fled to the most abandoned bathroom she could find and tried to say her name.
“My-my-my n-na-na-nam-name i-i-i-is C-C-Car-Caro-Caro-Carolina Sm-Smith,” she said through the tears, before drying her eyes and making a mad dash for History.
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Author's Note: Yes, I know Carolina's speech is annoying. You clearly haven't ment Clyde from TYTED. I'm going to kill him one day, honestly. He doesn't even have a speech impediment, the lazy arse bugger... *runs away ranting and chasing Clyde with a butcher knife*
