Star-Crossed (Hold)

Chapter 12~'Splainin' to Do (part two)

Copyright 2011 Lindsay Covington

Here's the second part guys! Sorry it took a while, my homework was nuts (I live on caffeine now, it's pathetic) but you might want to pay attention to Zoey (hint hint nudge nudge) :P

oh and the dedication is to this chick cause I love her comments and she's always asking questions and trying to figure out whats next! Thanks!!

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PART TWO

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“...and so, archetypes are used for...” My eyelids drooped heavily. Sadly, Mr. Kelley was a lecturer, there’s nothing wrong with lectures...as long as they don’t bore you halfway to death.

Plop!

A note landed on my desk, folded in the perfect triangle of a paper football. I glanced up and let my eyes sweep over the room in front of me. Movement near the front caught my attention: it was Zoey’s long, brown hair swinging as she turned her head to face the teacher. My curiosity peaked.

Carefully, I unfolded the note and smoothed it out on my desk with a pen, flinching every time the paper crackled in protest. Tall, slanting handwriting came into focus and I lowered my head to get a better look and cover the words in case anyone here got the brilliant idea to try to read it. Although, by the looks of things, most everyone in this class either was asleep or well on their way to sleep.

Rose:

We have to talk about lunch. ASAP.

Zoey

I sighed and chewed on the end of a pen, trying to figure out how to reply. I didn’t want to write anything down that sounded extremely odd in fear that someone would look at this note before Zoey got it. But, at the same time, I had no choice but to trust Zoey with some of my secrets, otherwise things might get complicated in this small town and I’d have to leave prematurely.

Zoey:

I’ll explain, I promise. But I don’t want to do it through a note that some random person might get a hold of. If you want to know what I think you want to know then you’ll understand why.

Rose

My handwriting was comparatively short and spikey to Zoey’s elegant characters. I began to quickly fold the paper back into it’s perfect little triangle, leaving no sign that it had ever been opened other than that it’s edges were slightly more worn from being opened and refolded. 

Casting a furtive glance around the room, I balanced the paper between the tip of my index finger and the table and blew lightly on it. A slight gust of wind picked up the paper and carried it to Zoey’s desk. Nobody seemed to notice anything amiss, but jumped in her seat, but refrained from looking at me, choosing instead to read my note. 

Meanwhile, I resumed staring at the crack in the white-washed wall where the upper right hand corner of the chalkboard met the wall.

“...every great story has many archetypes, like Star Wars, for example, we have the master and great teacher--Yoda--and we have the struggle between good and evil, externally between Luke and Darth Vader and internally within Luke’s mind...”

Plop!

The same not from earlier landed on my desk. I repeated the process of unfolding and smoothing out the paper.