Brewing Rivalry

Chapter 25 of Love from Above

Second hour history passes by in a blur. I just can’t bring myself to focus on dead presidents. The moment the bell rings, I am out the door, rushing to my art classroom. I get there before Jeremy and sit down in a section of tables in the corner. I’m staring absently at the student work adorning the walls when fingers poke into my sides. I jump in my seat and stifle a squeal.

 

“Note to self: Kelsey is ticklish,” Jeremy says, grinning deviously as he takes the seat next to me. I glare at him, which only makes his smile grow.

 

The art teacher, Ms. Malcolm, calls the class to order then. She reminds me of a bird as she flits around room, pointing out the whereabouts of the different supplies and such. She sets us to start on our first prompt, an oil pastel landscape. She lays out a mountain of books showing photographs of different works for us to look through for inspiration. Jeremy and I flip through a book full of lighthouses painted in all different mediums, waiting for inspiration to strike.

 

At the end of the hour, Jeremy walks me to my 4^th period, even though his next class is across campus, by the cafeteria. I plant a kiss on his cheek before turning into the classroom.

 

***

 

Brittney’s Point of View

 

I sit in the back of Mr. Johnson’s English class, checking my hair and make-up in my pocket mirror; as if it would dare mess up on me, the most popular girl at Pacific Valley. I close my mirror and look to the open classroom door to see Jeremy Karalis, looking hotter than ever. My eyes narrow into slits as I see a pathetic little emo girl give him a kiss on the cheek. If anyone deserves the hottest guy in school, it’s me. And I will not let some tramp take that from me.

 

***

 

I walk into the classroom and take a seat next to Libby. Mr. Johnson begins a spiel about the literature we will be delving into this semester: Of Mice and Men, Othello, Much Ado about Nothing, Frankenstein, all classics. Mr. Johnson looks fresh out of college and has to energy to match. Everything he says is so animated that I can tell he's going to be fun to learn from. He's the kind of teacher that could make a boring or difficult subject enjoyable.

 

Five minutes before the bell rings, Mr. Johnson calls on a tiny Barbie looking girl named Brittney.

 

“May I use the restroom,” she says in a very high, almost nasal, valley girl accent. Without waiting for an answer, she grabs her shoulder bag and struts out of the room. 

"Go right ahead," Mr. Johnson calls to the already closing classroom door, shaking his head as though this isn't the first time something like this has happened. Libby and I exchange a snicker. "Alright everyone, be ready to begin working on Frankenstein next class period. Talk amongst yourselves until the bell."