Vedica hates her new school until she unwillingly becomes the muse of a photographer who hides his identity via the student's magazine. The real trouble starts when she sets out to unveil him, only to find herself falling for the Senior who helps he...
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A few hours ago
If I ever wanted to make myself feel grounded, all I needed was to debate with my parents on any newsworthy topic.
My parents, the well-established corporate lawyer duo, Nate and Georgia Carter wouldn't let me win even though I presented them with strong, convincing points.
My dad would crush me with his counter-arguments under the defense that I needed to imbibe a thicker skin if I wanted to pursue law after graduating from school.
According to him, you train your mind to become a lawyer, before becoming one.
My mother - the debate moderator - would always repeat the same condolence.
"One day your father won't be able to win against you, James. I know that day is coming soon."
It's been four years since we began this ritual. I was still waiting for that day to arrive.
Luke, my identical twin who was born a minute younger, was shielded from this humiliation since he had displayed his preference for fine arts. His dream was to attend the Juilliard School.
Though time and again Luke dabbled at sketching and painting, his inclination had always been towards music.
Even at seventeen, he couldn't hit the can straight but had the dexterity to create music in his sleep.
"Ready, James?" Luke entered my room. He picked up my bag and tapped his heel at the foot of the bed. "Come on, I'm getting late."
I scrolled through the last of the article paragraphs, rotating my chair to dance to the music already playing in my ears.
Tonight, Dad and I were debating over the country's rising inflation and how it would harm the economy.
Don't worry, my old man loved listening to my views on current affairs. It also prepared me for the model UN debates. Being the captain of the team, I always preferred being updated than cut a sorry figure.
Luke tapped his fingers over his watch to grab my attention.
We had ten minutes for breakfast before leaving for school. Our parents sat in the dining area, dressed to their nines, sipping coffee and skimming through their newspapers.
Luke, the wild child that he was, dragged his chair, creating the teeth souring screech on the hardwood floor.
"Lukey!" Mom didn't look up from the newspaper. "Never drag the chair. It's bad manners."
"Sorry, Ma," Luke said, dragging the chair some more before plopping over.
Tossing his tie back, he leaned over the table to fetch some juice while managing to spill it over his blazer sleeve and the tabletop.
Martha, our help, rushed to clean up the mess created by the clumsy Carter but upon my request, she moved back.
"You've to be careful, Luke," I said, dabbing his sleeve and the table with a tissue. "You spilled milk yesterday. Can't you slow down a little bit?"
