The Fortune Cookie

The Fortune Cookie Part 1

I met Derek when I was a freshman in high school. I was doing a silly presentation about myself because my English teacher felt it was important to “get to know each other.” Little did she know that half of the kids already knew each other already and everyone could take one look at me and know exactly who I am.

I’m the shy girl. You know the girl: she wears plain, nice clothes. She has brown hair, brown eyes, light skin. She doesn’t say much, and when you ask about her everyone says she’s nice. They don’t say who is that? Because even that would create some air of mystery. No, they are sure that they’ve met her—even if they are all thinking of different girls—and they all think she’s nice.

So I started my presentation. Although I didn’t say exactly what I was thinking, I might as well have when I said my hobbies were reading and I’m not sure where I’d like to go to college yet. When I finally finished, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I started to walk back to my chair, but right before I could sit in the beautiful, plastic, anonymous chair, I saw it.

Someone raised their hand.

For a brief second, I was excited. Some person, living on this earth, wanted to know more about me. I told them the basics, and they wanted more of me. It was such a novel concept. But that second was fleeting, and immediately after I realized I had not prepared for such an occasion. I felt the rush of panic that I hoped I would grow out of when I reached high school. Where was the confidence that comes with being a woman that my mom promised when I freaked out in the sixth grade about needing to wear a bra?

I nodded at the person who dared to raise a hand even though my presentation was boring (this was a fact—I saw the cool guy in the back who “forgot his presentation” and fell asleep during mine). I thought the nod would be cool, like hey, people ask about me all the time and I calmly and confidently tell people about myself. Instead, half way through the nod I noticed that this “someone” was not just anyone.

It was a gorgeous boy. He was tall and fit with great posture that only guys with an intense level of confidence could master. His hair was brown, but not in the way that mine was brown, instead a brown like melted chocolate that I wanted nothing more than to run my hands through. Then, as he recognized my nod and smiled, I lost my breath. When he smiled, it was like the whole world was brighter, and his eyes told you that you are special, because you brightened the world. In that second, I knew I was addicted to his smile. He was my drug—but in an incredibly beautiful way. Like caffeine from Starbucks if it was free.

Then he asked the dreaded question, “Where from Mexico is your family from?”

Um…oh my gosh. Where is my family from?? Where am I from?? WHAT IS MY NAME??

“Uh…” I began so eloquently, “I’m not…entirely…sure.” I wanted to through my head in my hands and drop out of high school. But, amazingly, he gave me another world brightening smile.

“Oh cool,” he said, in a confident way that clearly showed he was disappointed that I didn’t give him an answer. He must have been genuinely interested. Is he even real?

“Well, let’s give Isabella a hand!” My English teacher announced to the class, making congratulating me for my mediocre performance mandatory. She also used Isabella, despite my insistence during my presentation to call me Bella, making it clear that she, much like the too-cool-for-school kid, did not give one shit about my presentation.

I curtsied, or did whatever the fuck you’re supposed to do when the whole class claps and you stand there like a moron, and then took my seat again. I played with my pencil bag mindlessly, alternating between thinking about touching the hair of that boy and looking at him while pretending to look at the classroom’s broken clock. This effectively preoccupied myself as one by one, the rest of my four-year classmates introduced themselves and presented about their lives.

One particularly arrogant girl declared that her goal was to be valedictorian and state soccer champion her senior year, while she flipped her light brown hair out of her tanned, flawless face. I rolled my eyes while Victoria fielded many questions about herself. My question-asker asked her two questions, with that same beautiful smile, which put a deep feeling of emptiness inside my stomach.

Finally, it was my question-asker’s turn to present. It was the moment I was waiting for all period long. No longer was I fiddling with my pencil pouch, or had any interest in the clock that still said it was 6:45 in the morning. He walked up to the front of the room with grace that no human being should be able to have while walking in between desks.

“Hey, I’m Derek. I went to Mountain View Middle School. I play football, do track, and I’m in the marching band,” at this point he was interrupted by my English teacher herself, who added that he was the star of the marching band. It is important to know that he blushed, and it was the most beautiful expression I had ever seen. “I want to go to the Air Force Academy. My family is from Mexico, near Guanajuato”—of course he knew the exact location—“and I sing in a band.”

When he paused to change slides, I realized that not only was he the most attractive boy I have ever seen, he was also multitalented and successful. I couldn’t help but let my mouth drop a little, which I’m pretty sure Derek noticed. He smirked at me, and I quickly closed it, trying to keep my dignity intact. As he continued with his presentation, his eyes remained focused on me. I started to smile, and he mirrored me. In that moment, there was nothing else but him and me. I felt like my whole life brought to this second, this English class, this boy.

“…and my girlfriend, Sarah, goes to Lee High School. We’ve been together for almost two years…”

Kill me.

-----------------------------------

First Chapter of The Fortune Cookie!!!(: The title will make sense soon enough....(: Let me know what you think(: