Tongue Tied *UNDERGOING EDITING*

1. The Project

Ariel's POV

In the cold gray dawn the sisters lit their lamp and read their chapter with an earnestness never felt before; for now the shadow of a real trouble had come, the little books were full of help and comfort; and, as they dressed, they agreed to say good-by cheerfully and hopefully, and send their mother on her anxious journey unsaddened by tears or complaints from them.

As I crouch down underneath the bright sunlight of this April morning, I begin to start reading chapter 16 of one of my favorite books, Little Women. A true classic, I'm not surprised you like it so much, Ariel, my mom always says to me. I'm sitting on the last step to the entrance of our school, bag squeezed between me and the railing, book, tattered and worn from reading it so much, pressed flat against my lap. I squint to see the words, a habit both my mom and brother always told me was awful because I could need glasses as a consequence. But I never listened. Even when they told me as I squinted through the pure darkness of the night in my bedroom trying to read my books. I loved reading. I loved being able to be transported to a whole new world with different people and places every time I opened a book.

The first morning bell rings, signaling to everyone that they need to get inside because school hours start in ten minutes. I shove my book carefully into my backpack and then sling it over my shoulder. I stand up from my sitting position and automatically bump into someone who's working their way up the crowded stairway. "Sorry!" I gasp, but the person ignores me and walks into the school. I'm used to being ignored though. Everyone ignores me, except for my best friend, Zoey, my teachers, and my family members.

Zoey Chambers, my best friend since the first grade, is one of the nicest, smartest, and prettiest people I know. She is supportive and beautiful and smart and full of humor and imagination. Speaking of Zoey...

"Hey Ariel! What are you doing?" Zoey says to me as she gently pushes her way through the other students. "I was about to go inside when I bumped into some guy. I apologized but...like everyone else, he just ignored me." I say, turning to stand beside Zoey as we walk inside the school building. "Oh Ariel, don't be like that." she says. "Be like what? I'm simply stating the facts." I say as I hold open the large metal front doors of our school.

Zoey and I continue to talk as we walk to our lockers, hers only one down from mine. I grab my books for the first three periods and stuff them into my backpack. Zoey's locker door closes with a bang and she starts walking to first period. "See you in fourth! Be yourself!" she yells as she backwards walks down the hallway, simultaneously waving goodbye and managing to avoid bumping into people. How does she do that? I wonder as I begin my walk to first period, AP Literature. The only classes I have with Zoey are fourth period, Physics, and seventh period, Goverment. Besides her farewell to see me in fourth, she also always adds some inspirational statement at the end. Yesterday's was "Love who you are!", which made me laugh because two minutes prior, she was complaining about how her taste in music was so different from everyone else's.

I arrive at my Lit class exactly two minutes early, as I do everyday. Only the teacher and a few other early students are there. I take my seat at the front of the class and take out my binder and textbook. "Oh, you won't be needing that today, Ariel. I have a new assignment for the class." my teacher, Ms. Brooks says. She's my favorite teacher because she understands my love for reading and writing.

"Ok." I say to Ms. Brooks with a smile and slide my book back into my bag. I drum my fingers aimlessly on my desk, waiting for the bell to ring. People start to flood into the class, sitting down in their seats and getting out their books. After everyone, or almost everyone, has sat down, Ms. Brooks starts to tell people about the lesson when the door swings open, revealing three of the cutest guys at Oceanside High School.

"Luke, Tyler, Dylan. Glad you could join us." Ms. Brooks says as Tyler closes the door behind him. "Sorry we're late, Ms. Brooks. It won't happen again." Luke Mason, the head of the group, mutters. Him and his buddies snicker as they sit down. Ms. Brooks has an annoyed grin on her face as she stands from her desk and stands at the front of the room. "Boys and girls, please put your textbooks away, you won't be needing them today." she starts as she pushes her black framed reading glasses farther up on the bridge of her nose. There's a small scuffling noise as the other students put their books back in their bags and then avert their attention back to Ms. Brooks.

"As I was saying before we were interrupted," Ms. Brooks says, glancing at Luke, Tyler and Dylan who sit in a group of three towards the back of the classroom. Everyone turns to look at them, including me. Luke catches me looking at him and nods his head at me while flashing his white toothed crooked smile that makes every girl swoon. Not me. Especially not me. I roll my eyes and turn away, back to the front of the classroom. "I have come up with a new assignment. It is worth half your grade." she says. I hear a few groans come from the back of the classroom. I, on the other hand, hold in my excitement, afraid that I'll get some weird looks from others.

Ms. Brooks walks over to her desk and picks up a thick pile of papers. "Here are your rubrics for the assignment. Pass them back please." she says as she gently places a pile on my desk. I take one and hand the stack backwards to the person sitting behind me. As Ms. Brooks talks through the rubric, I flip through the pages. Just as she's saying it, I read it in bold black letters at the top of the first page. Partners will be picked by drawing out of a hat.

Now I'm the one to groan quietly. I had hoped that I would be able to work by myself, but now I'll be working with someone. I don't mean to sound like a snob, I just feel that I work better by myself. I guess having someone to split up the work with evenly will be nice for a change. I make myself look at this more positively as Ms. Brooks pulls out a hat with little paper names all folded up inside of them. She walks up and down the aisles until she gets to me, front row middle aisle. I take a deep breath, knowing that my project grade all depends on whose name I pick out of this hat.

My hand roams around the pieces of paper, until I finally find one buried under all the others. I pull it out and gingerly unfold it, praying that I have a good partner. I need a good partner to get a good grade on this assignment. I unfold my small square of white paper. My jaw drops as I read the name, and my heart starts beating a mile a minute. No no no. This isn't happening.

Luke Mason