hapter 17
Chapter 17
:..
“Avery?” Ava’s voice came through the bathroom stall door again. “I know you’re in there.”
My mind raced. Lily was still at the sinks. If Ava saw us together, she’d get suspicious again.
“Just a minute,” I called out.
I heard Lily’s footsteps moving toward the door. Good. She was leaving.
“Are you okay?” Ava asked. “You’ve been in here forever.”
I flushed the toilet and opened the stall door. Ava was standing by the sinks, her arms crossed and a sour expression clouded her face.
“I told you I had a stomach thing.”
“You look fine now.”
“I feel better.”
She studied my face. “Were you talking to someone?”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard voices when I came in.”
I walked to the sink and turned on the water. “Maybe someone else was in here earlier.”
“Maybe.”
I washed my hands slowly. Trying to look normal.
“We should get back,” I said. “Lunch is almost over.”
“Yeah. Madison was wondering where you went.”
We walked back toward the cafeteria together. I could feel Ava glancing at me, but she didn’t ask any more questions.
The rest of the school day passed normally. Classes. Homework assignments. The usual routine.
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But I kept thinking about Lily. About the paper I’d given her. About whether she’d talk to Arthur and Daniel.
After school, Ava and I walked home together. She talked about some drama with Jessica and Sarah. I nodded at the right places but wasn’t really listening.
“You’re quiet again,” she said as we reached our street.
“Just thinking about homework.”
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Chapter 17
“You think about homework a lot lately.”
“I want to keep my grades up.”
“Right. Being a good student.”
We reached our house. Mom’s car was in the driveway, which meant she was home early from work.
“Girls!” she called when we walked through the front door. “How was school?”
“Great,” Ava said, dropping her backpack by the stairs. “We got our literary magazines today.”
“Oh, that’s exciting. Did you get published?”
“No, but there was a really good story that won the contest.”
I froze halfway up the stairs.
“What kind of story?” Mom asked.
“About family stuff. Kind of dark though.”
“Dark how?”
I could hear them talking in the kitchen while I stood on the stairs.
“Just about kids feeling ignored and stuff like that.”
“Hmm. Well, dinner in a few hours. Make sure you do your homework first.”
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I went to my room and closed the door. Pulled out my math book but couldn’t concentrate on the problems.
Ava was already talking about the story at home. What if she kept bringing it up?
A few hours later, Mom called us for dinner. Dad was already seated at the table when we came down.
“How was everyone’s day?” he asked as Mom served the spaghetti.
“Good,” I said.
“Avery’s been very focused lately,” Ava said. “Really dedicated to her studies.”
“That’s what we like to hear,” Dad said. “But don’t overdo” he added ss i expected.
“And we got our school literary magazine today,” Ava continued.
Mom looked up. “Oh yes, you mentioned that. Any good stories?”
“One supposedly good one. It won the contest actually.”
“That’s nice. Do we know the author?”
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Chapter 17
“No, it was anonymous. But Ms. Rachna said it was exceptional writing.”
Dad raised his eyebrows. “Anonymous? That’s weird.”
“Yeah. The story was called ‘Invisible. About a girl with family problems.“
I stabbed my spaghetti with more force than necessary.
“What kind of family problems?” Mom asked.
“Like feeling ignored by her parents. Thinking her sister gets all the attention.”
My parents looked at each other.
“That’s sad,” Mom said. “But probably just creative writing. Kids making things up.”
“Maybe. But Ms. Rachna said it seemed very personal. Like the writer really experienced those things.”
“Well,” Dad said, “some families do have issues.
“The story made it sound like the parents were playing favorites,” Ava said. “Like they loved one kid more than the other.”
Mom frowned. “That’s a serious accusation to make in a story.”
“Right? It seemed kind of mean to write about parents like that.”
I gripped my fork tighter.
“Did Ms. Rachna ask anyone in your class to submit something?” Dad asked.
“She asked a few people.” Ava said. “Including Avery.”
Both parents turned to look at me.
“Did you submit anything, sweetheart?” Mom asked.
“No. I decided not to enter.”
“Good choice,” Dad said. “Writing about family problems isn’t appropriate for school.”
“Even if they were real problems?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“What do you mean?” Mom asked.
“I mean, what if a kid really was being treated unfairly? Shouldn’t they be allowed to write about it?”
“Writing about it isn’t going to solve anything,” Dad said. “It just creates drama.”
“But maybe it helps them feel better.”
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Chapter 17
:
“Or maybe it makes them feel worse by dwelling on negative thoughts.”
Ava nodded. “That’s what I thought too. The story seemed really angry.”
“Angry how?” I asked.
“Just bitter. Like the writer hated their family.”
“Maybe they had good reason to be angry.”
Everyone stopped eating and looked at me.
“What do you mean by that?” Mom asked slowly.
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🙂)
I realized I’d said too much. “Nothing. Just that if someone’s being mistreated, they have a right to be upset
about it.”
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“But children don’t always understand the full picture,” Dad said. “Sometimes they think they’re being treated unfairly when they’re not.”
“And sometimes they really are being treated unfairly.”
“Avery,” Mom’s voice had a warning tone. “Where is this coming from?”
“I’m just saying. Maybe the person who wrote that story had valid reasons to feel invisible.”
“Or maybe they need to grow up and realize the world doesn’t revolve around them,” Dad said.
My hand clenched around my fork.
“The writer sounds troubled,” Mom said. “Like they need counseling or something.”
“Definitely,” Ava agreed. “Normal kids don’t write stuff like that about their families.”
“Normal kids are grateful for what they have,” Dad added.
“Even if what they have isn’t enough?” I asked.
“What they have is a roof over their head and food on the table,” Mom said. “That should be enough for anyone.”
“What about love? What about feeling valued?”
“All children are loved,” Dad said firmly.
“Are they though? What if some kids get more love than others?”
The table went quiet.
“That’s enough,” Mom said. “I don’t like where this conversation is going.”
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“I’m just trying to understand why everyone thinks the story writer is so terrible.”
“Because they’re being disrespectful to their family,” Ava said. “And selfish.”
That word again. Selfish.
“Maybe they’re just honest.”
“Honesty without loyalty is just cruelty,” Dad said.
“I suppose you’re right,” I said, giving it up.
“Exactly!” Mom said. “Did the writer turn up?” She added.
“No. Even when they were called on at the assembly” Ava said, taking a full spoon of food into her mouth.
“You see…that’s more reason to believe they are just being dramatic..” was the last thing mom said before I lost
- it.
I heard and felt my felt my fist hit the table before I realized….but I was gone from the table.
田
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
