When I started public school in kindergarten, I didn’t know much about myself. I’ve always had social anxiety genetically and I didn’t make friends easily. That changed a lot in third grade when I met Hazel Brior. She was just like me and our teacher couldn’t separate us when we met. We both loved our plants like people and didn’t make friends easily. Hazel and I would play together at her house and work on our plants at my house, which always had light streaming through the windows. Third grade was the best year of my life and Hazel and I stuck together and would stay that way forever. Until fifth grade. The year she moved from Idaho to Alaska. I think my story started in sixth grade when I had no friends and no reason to attend school in the first place. It was the Friday before the Superbowl and everyone was buzzing with excitement. I longed to go home to my little Scottish terrier, Embry every day of school. For some reason that little dog was like my lifeline. I don’t remember having great grades or any reason to go to school in the first place, but I went for my widowed mother. My sister and I were all she had. The bell rang, signaling for my classmates and me to go to first period. I reluctantly stood up and walked to my first-period class, botany. I brought my cactus everywhere I went, even school, which looking back on seems kind of weird, but like I said, this was where my story started, and every story needs a beginning. I trudged to my first class to avoid getting pushed or stepped on. Our school's hallways were smaller than ideal and well, there were five hundred people in my school, figure it out yourself. As I walked into the greenhouse room where botany took place, the classroom heat overwhelmed my body, making me sweat to the point where it wasn’t funny, it was just annoying. My teacher, Miss Poirier, kindly greeted me when I walked into the greenhouse. Miss Poirier was a fantastic teacher and I still am grateful for her kindness and patience when I was in sixth grade. Looking back, I was hard to teach and always went to Miss Poirier for help in any subject. Miss Poirier didn’t like core school subjects and used botany as an escape for us. That day felt different somehow, but I figured it was just winter vibes. It seriously wasn’t the winter vibes. I sat in a beanbag chair and waited for class to start, mentally studying for the test I had later that day in social studies. Current governor? Brad Little. Current senators? Mike Crapo and… James something. My memory was like a sponge, it could only produce what it absorbed, but it couldn’t absorb much. I tapped my foot on the wood floor, trying to figure out the answer to my question. The floor felt strangely hollow and formless. I figured it was just water damage, making the wood tear apart. It wasn’t water damage. I examined the corner of the floor to see that the floorboards were coming up. “Miss Poirier? Something is going on with the floor.” No one was in the classroom other than Miss Poirier and me, so she walked over to examine the floor. “Hm,” Miss Poirier thought, “It looks like the floorboard is coming up. I’ll tell you what, you and a couple of other students can come by after school. Perhaps August Allegro? She doesn’t have me because of band and choir, but she likes to come in and help me with the plants in her free periods. Unless she has something going on. If you guys can figure out what’s going on with the floorboards, I’ll give you something.” I shuddered at the thought of having a band kid help me, but I agreed. What could go wrong? The class went by like usual, seeming quicker than it was. Next was study hall, which meant I was supposed to go to the media center. The media center was a room full of books, laptops, and iPads, all meant for the students to get work done. I usually just sat on the windowsill and looked outside or messed with my phone. August was known for being the school’s everything girl. Well, everything but sports. Miss Poirier told me she’d probably be in a chair working on her novel, which seemed interesting to me. A seventh grader working on a novel in her free time was something new. cont. in notes and credits--->
I found a girl who looked deeply interested in her studies and figured she was August. “Are you August?” I asked her. The girl looked at me for a second before responding, “You’re a sixth grader, right?” I nodded, even though she didn’t really answer my question. “I’m not who you’re looking for, Auggy is over there,” She told me, pointing to a girl sitting in an armchair, immersed in her laptop, ignoring the people around her talking. I walked to the girl and asked her my question, “Are you August?” She looked at me and smiled. She had waist-length brown hair and green eyes with freckles all over her nose. “Yep! Aurora Sherwood, right?” She asked me. I exhaled with relief, the hard part was over. Or so I assumed. I nodded. “Poirier talks about you all the time and so I’ve been dying to meet you. I hear you’re quite the expert on plants, is that right?” I fiddled with the end of my oversized tan sweater. “Yeah, you can call me Rory. Miss Poirier was wondering if you could come by after school with me and figure out the flooring problem there,” I responded. “Let’s see… it’s Friday, right?” August asked. I wasn’t quite sure how she couldn’t know what day of the week it was, but I nodded. “Wow, the one day a week I have nothing after school. Yep, I’m free after school. I wouldn’t consider myself an expert on flooring solutions though, are you sure you want me to help you?” I nodded. “I’ll see you after school then.” “Okay, bye,” I said, leaving August. I was shocked I even talked to her in the first place. “Wait-” August stopped me. “Do you mind if I bring anyone else?” I shook my head no. “Okay, bye Rory Sherwood, I’ll see you after school.” Friends? Maybe. August seemed a little bit unpredictable. I knew she had friends, but I wasn’t sure about how she thought about them. Before Hazel had moved away, we did everything together and that’s what I imagine it would be like to have friends then. But how could I know? It’s not like I had friends. That was the first chapter of my story, and looking back, a lot has changed, but you’ll see that later. ~~~ hello and welcome to chapter one of my novel, tsog! i've been writing this story for a while now and i have decided to start posting it and possibly put the full thing on scratch :)) i hope i'll be able to share everything :)) ~~~ next: to be released previous: none first: you're here!
