New Haven

Dear reader,                                                                                                              2014-09-26

My parents do not live together; they split up twelve months after I was born due to my father getting another woman pregnant. So I have a younger brother, called Cole. He is only four months younger than me, which results in everyone first assuming we are twins. I don’t mind though, everyone thinks Cole is gorgeous. And he is, so I’m flattered.

When my parents divorced my father married Cole’s mother, Catherine, and together they moved to an adorable apartment outside New York. We don’t live there anymore though, now we live in New Haven.

My mother married a businessman and moved to a big apartment in New York, where she began her career as a businesswoman herself. Who would have thought? The man she married, Dan, is now out of the picture since they got a divorce just a couple of years ago due to them never seeing each other because of work. She got the apartment so I am guessing she is quite satisfied. They say there comes a time in life when one must choose between career and family, and my mother chose her career. I don’t think too much about it, Catherine has always been like a mother to me.

I dropped the pen and sighed. Do you recognize the feeling when you have so much to say but don’t know how to put it into those correct words? Whatever words I chose they didn’t do my thoughts justice. Maybe thoughts aren’t meant to be written down; perhaps they are better off as just thoughts. I can’t tell.

My assignment for Monday is a personal letter about my childhood and I have written two hundred and five words so far. Stressed is an understatement. Writing about your own life isn’t supposed to difficult, you’ve lived it yourself so you know every detail of every single moment.

I want to be poetic, be able to write touching poems that will make the teacher cry. Or formulate my thoughts into words that are old and fancy, to make the poem seem important. Old, difficult words usually means that the poem is from ages ago and written with an important message. It’s not fact though, that’s just my opinion when interpreting old poems.

A knock on the door made me come back to reality.

“Can I come in?” it was Cole.

“Sure” I answered and turned to the door.

“Are you done with the assignment for tomorrow? I can’t seem to get mine done” he leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

“I’m not even finished with my own, so I can’t help you” I showed him the paper with the few words I’d been able to write.

“Guess I’ll have to do this one myself then” he smiled and began turning his back to me and walk out of my room.

“I guess so” I didn’t pay much attention to him; I was desperate to get this stupid letter done so I could go to sleep.

“Goodnight, sis” he exited my room.

I fell asleep thinking about words and letters.

“Good morning students, I hope you’ve had a lovely weekend filled with English literature and writing letters” giggles came from different parts of the classroom as Mr. Brown was talking, but he continued his speech pretending he didn’t hear us laughing at him. “We have a new student here today, Noah was it?” he looked out over the class looking for the new student.

“Who transfers in the middle of the semester?” Olivia leaned over and whispered to me with a short laugh after.

“Mm” the semester had almost just begun, but it was easier to agree with her than starting a discussion.

I looked around searching for a new face, and there he was. In the left corner sat a boy, with brown hair and a clear-cut jawline, reaching his hand up with a bored look on his face. He sat with some guys from the football team; my guess is that he transferred because of that. Our school is known for its winning football team, however he didn’t look like a guy who plays football.

“Welcome to English literature Noah, I’m Edward Brown and I will be your teacher” Mr. Brown smiled and then turned to the board.

The girls started whispering and looking at Noah, who clearly was enjoying the attention. He was good-looking, that’s for sure.

“I’d like to get a bite of that one” Olivia whispered and looked over her shoulder to get a peek at Noah.

“Of course you would” I grinned and looked forward.

“Today we are having a quiz” Mr. Brown was almost yelling to make himself heard over the whispering. “I’ll present a famous quote and you will tell me who said it. Do you understand?” he looked out over the class and received some students nodding. “Great, let’s get started”.

I could see Olivia taking up her phone to, probably, text her older sister about the new guy in our class. Olivia’s sister Agnes is probably one of the coolest twenty-year-olds out there. She’s writing for a fashion-magazine, and convinced Olivia to take this course. I don’t think she would have taken it if it weren’t for Agnes.

“’A genuine leader is not a searcher for consensus but a molder of consensus’. Who said this?”

The class remained silent. Olivia kept her phone behind her bag, which was placed on her desk, to prevent Mr. Brown from seeing it. I looked up at Mr. Brown who was currently watching Olivia distrustfully, waiting for her to notice. I peeked Olivia in the side to get her attention, but it was too late. Too bad for her.

”Ms. Clark, would you care to answer my question?” he raised his eyebrows as Olivia cleared her throat and looked up.

”Could you repeat the quote please” even if he would repeat the quote, I’m sure she wouldn’t know it anyway. Olivia isn’t really a top student to be honest.

“’A genuine leader is not a searcher for consensus but a molder of consensus’”.

”Obama?” it was actually a good guess, but unfortunately incorrect.

Mr. Brown looked at the board and wrote down the quote.

”The key is looking at the words” he said and underlined molder and consensus. “Perhaps someone else knows” he looked at me and smiled encouragingly. “Ms. Cox, would you like to give it a try?

“Perhaps Martin Luther King, Jr.?” my voice didn’t come out as steady as I wished, speaking in front of the class isn’t my biggest strength.

“Correct! Raise your hand from the beginning next time, I know you’re clever Sophie” he wrote down the name I’d just given him on the board and went on with his quotes.

The only positive thing about answering the first time is that you don’t have to participate much after.

The new student, Noah, answered a few questions, usually the hard ones. I’m not sure if he’s actually smart or if he looked the answer up on his phone. Both would say a lot about him.