Status: Active
The Letter C
Chapter One
Three-thirty. That's all I could think for six straight hours. Three-thirty, and I was free. Free of school work. Free of tutoring sessions. And free of the little town of Arley, Alabama, in which less than three-hundred people resided. Finally free.
My name's Cara Stover. And I am a senior at Meek High School in this small town. It was the last day at school. People were talking excitedly about what they were to do on their vacations, talking about the senior trip and whether the small school could afford to make this year's trip possible, and how excited they were at leaving the town of Arley once and for all. There were some people, though, that didn't want to leave. I, however, was probably more anxious than anyone to get out.
It was nine-ten in the morning. Ten minutes until first period English was to end. In this class, was my best friend, Evan Rice, and my worst enemy, who's had it out for me since the third grade when I beat her in a spelling bee, Kelly Andrews. We were having a spelling test. "For fun," Mrs. Coville, the senior English teacher said. "Just to see what you know." She was calling out words, very big words, I might add, and we had to spell them. There were to be twenty words called out, and she was on the last one.
"Theoretical," she said in her unusually nassily voice. It was a lot easier than the last word. Antidisestablishmentarianism. Which made me think of a Dairy Queen commercial, which made me snort, which got me a glare from Mrs.Coville. "Now," she said. "We have time left. You all can talk while I see who made the best score." She took our papers, on which words were written, scratched out, re-written, scratched out more, and finally written again to the paper owners' liking.
"Hey," Evan said as he turned around to face me. We had to sit in alphabetical order, which was fine with me, considering my best friend got to sit in front of me, and Kelly Andrews sat on the other side of the room. "Have you applied to any colleges?" Evan asked me.
"Yes," I said simply. He just stared at me like I should be locked up in a mental hospital. "What?" I asked getting annoyed.
"What colleges have you applied to?" Evan asked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Well," I started. "I applied to Alabama Community. And Gadsden State. And a few more choice universities if neither of those work out."
"Wait," Evan said. "You were just telling me yesterday about how you couldn't wait to get out of Alabama."
"I said I couldn't wait to get out of Arley, Alabama," I said, correcting him. "I wouldn't dream of getting too far away from my family. I mean, Mom's pregnant, again, as if she doesn't have enough kids already."
"Man," Evan started. "Your mom and dad can't get enough of each other, can they? I mean, they have you, Cammy, Casey, Cris, Cory, and Cassidy already. They can't keep doing this. Especially with that whole 'names starting with a C' thing. I mean, how many more names can there be that start with a C?"
"Well," I said. "If it's a boy, they wand to name him Christian. If it's a girl, they want to name her Carrie."
"Why?" Evan asked. "Why do they want everyone's name to begin with a C?"
"I don't know," I said. "I guess because their names' start with a C. Cody and Carly. And they said they want me to marry a guy whose name starts with a C. I'm like, no. Even if I love him. No. Too many C's in this family."
"While we're talking about your family," Evan said with a small smile coming to his face.
"Yeah?" I asked, knowing what was coming.
"How about you getting me a date with Cammy?" he asked.
"No," I said automatically.
"Why not?" Evan asked in a whiney voice.
"We've talked about this," I told him. "A. She's in college. You'll never see her. B. She's twenty-one. You're barely eighteen. And C. She's engaged. To a guy whose name starts with C. Carl."
"Gah!" Evan exclaimed. "Man, all the pretty ones are always taken. All of them except for you. Nobody likes you."
"Oh gee, thanks Evan," I said. "I'm sorry I'm so pitiful that I can't even get a boyfriend."
"That's not what I meant," Evan said.
"All right," Mrs.Coville said, going to the front of the room. "We'll go in alphabetical order. Kelly Andrews, 72. Bruce Barry, 85. Dorothea Benton, 95. Lu Anne Dale, 32. Kasey Frank, 58. Ryan Ingle, 92. Leslie Mann, 96. Loise Nollen, 13. Evan Rice, 76. Cara Stover, 98. Brittney Tacket, 56. Una Valentine, 92. Lauren Wilson, 45. Manny Wilson, 79." Right when she was finished calling out grades, the bell rang, signalling five minute break, and next class.
Evan and I walked down the hall, went to our lockers, and headed in opposite directions, with Evan heading to his mathematics class with Mr. Brown, and me heading to science with Mrs. Schine.
My name's Cara Stover. And I am a senior at Meek High School in this small town. It was the last day at school. People were talking excitedly about what they were to do on their vacations, talking about the senior trip and whether the small school could afford to make this year's trip possible, and how excited they were at leaving the town of Arley once and for all. There were some people, though, that didn't want to leave. I, however, was probably more anxious than anyone to get out.
It was nine-ten in the morning. Ten minutes until first period English was to end. In this class, was my best friend, Evan Rice, and my worst enemy, who's had it out for me since the third grade when I beat her in a spelling bee, Kelly Andrews. We were having a spelling test. "For fun," Mrs. Coville, the senior English teacher said. "Just to see what you know." She was calling out words, very big words, I might add, and we had to spell them. There were to be twenty words called out, and she was on the last one.
"Theoretical," she said in her unusually nassily voice. It was a lot easier than the last word. Antidisestablishmentarianism. Which made me think of a Dairy Queen commercial, which made me snort, which got me a glare from Mrs.Coville. "Now," she said. "We have time left. You all can talk while I see who made the best score." She took our papers, on which words were written, scratched out, re-written, scratched out more, and finally written again to the paper owners' liking.
"Hey," Evan said as he turned around to face me. We had to sit in alphabetical order, which was fine with me, considering my best friend got to sit in front of me, and Kelly Andrews sat on the other side of the room. "Have you applied to any colleges?" Evan asked me.
"Yes," I said simply. He just stared at me like I should be locked up in a mental hospital. "What?" I asked getting annoyed.
"What colleges have you applied to?" Evan asked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Well," I started. "I applied to Alabama Community. And Gadsden State. And a few more choice universities if neither of those work out."
"Wait," Evan said. "You were just telling me yesterday about how you couldn't wait to get out of Alabama."
"I said I couldn't wait to get out of Arley, Alabama," I said, correcting him. "I wouldn't dream of getting too far away from my family. I mean, Mom's pregnant, again, as if she doesn't have enough kids already."
"Man," Evan started. "Your mom and dad can't get enough of each other, can they? I mean, they have you, Cammy, Casey, Cris, Cory, and Cassidy already. They can't keep doing this. Especially with that whole 'names starting with a C' thing. I mean, how many more names can there be that start with a C?"
"Well," I said. "If it's a boy, they wand to name him Christian. If it's a girl, they want to name her Carrie."
"Why?" Evan asked. "Why do they want everyone's name to begin with a C?"
"I don't know," I said. "I guess because their names' start with a C. Cody and Carly. And they said they want me to marry a guy whose name starts with a C. I'm like, no. Even if I love him. No. Too many C's in this family."
"While we're talking about your family," Evan said with a small smile coming to his face.
"Yeah?" I asked, knowing what was coming.
"How about you getting me a date with Cammy?" he asked.
"No," I said automatically.
"Why not?" Evan asked in a whiney voice.
"We've talked about this," I told him. "A. She's in college. You'll never see her. B. She's twenty-one. You're barely eighteen. And C. She's engaged. To a guy whose name starts with C. Carl."
"Gah!" Evan exclaimed. "Man, all the pretty ones are always taken. All of them except for you. Nobody likes you."
"Oh gee, thanks Evan," I said. "I'm sorry I'm so pitiful that I can't even get a boyfriend."
"That's not what I meant," Evan said.
"All right," Mrs.Coville said, going to the front of the room. "We'll go in alphabetical order. Kelly Andrews, 72. Bruce Barry, 85. Dorothea Benton, 95. Lu Anne Dale, 32. Kasey Frank, 58. Ryan Ingle, 92. Leslie Mann, 96. Loise Nollen, 13. Evan Rice, 76. Cara Stover, 98. Brittney Tacket, 56. Una Valentine, 92. Lauren Wilson, 45. Manny Wilson, 79." Right when she was finished calling out grades, the bell rang, signalling five minute break, and next class.
Evan and I walked down the hall, went to our lockers, and headed in opposite directions, with Evan heading to his mathematics class with Mr. Brown, and me heading to science with Mrs. Schine.