Leah Archer was just 12 years old when she hit her head on a rock and fell into a coma, one that doctors weren't sure she'd ever come back from. But when she wakes up four years later, she faces the struggle of recovery and fights to regain any hint...
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EVEN THOUGH THE first day of school always sucks, it's also always easy. Teachers spend the first few days handing out the syllabus, going over their rules and expectations, attempting to learn students' names. There's never any homework or tests to stress over, so it's basically just getting used to being in school again. It's probably the best week of the year.
Even though everyone complains about having to wake up early, there's nothing better than seeing your friends again. Yeah, school may be a hassle, but I genuinely enjoy being with my classmates and learning. It's the waking up early part that's hard.
Caleb and I walked out of the locker room along with some of the other players, laughing at a story someone had told. The warning bell rang, alerting everyone that it was time to head to class.
"What room is Mrs. Spinella in again?" I ask Caleb, not wanting to have to pull out my schedule again.
He looks on his phone where he must've taken a picture of it; I wish I had thought of that. "Upstairs in A building," he answers. "Room 213."
I groan, knowing we have to make it across campus in the seven minutes until class starts. He nudges my shoulder, and the two of us pick up the pace a little.
We make it in time, and still have to wait in the small line forming outside the classroom as the teacher told everyone where they would be sitting. I had never had Mrs. Spinella before, but from what Caleb told me freshman year I could tell she wasn't strict, but not necessarily easy going either.
Once I finally get to the front, I tell her my name and she instructs me to sit in the second row, seat nine. It feels a bit childish to have seat numbers in high school, but some teachers don't seem to feel the same.
Creative writing is an upper-level course, meaning it's only available to juniors and seniors as an addition or substitution to English. It's definitely not an easy class but I forgot that Leah would be there with us.
She's sitting in the third seat and knowing that seats are alphabetical by last name, I'd be willing to bet that Caleb's seat was right next to hers. On her right is Farah, someone I didn't know she was familiar with. Leah's laugh travels through the classroom and Farah's follows soon after, the two of them laughing at something unknown to me.
I take my seat in the second row, my desk the farthest to the left. It's only a few seconds before Caleb enters the room, sitting on Leah's left.
"Well, look who we have here," Farah smirks, turning in her seat to look towards Caleb and I. "Are you two sure you're in the right room? Freshman English is down the hall."
I glare at her playfully, knowing she's joking, but the smile on Leah's face is worth being made fun of. My glare turns to a smile as my eyes meet Leah's, and she giggles.
