It's never easy and you'll never know
Title: Reading Between the Lines
Fandom/Verse: Among the Ashes
Characters/Pairings: Ivy, Miss Summers, Ashley
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Mine, all mine.
I walked into Miss Summer’s class the next day determined not to let Ashley get to me. She hadn’t made the mistake of being late twice and by the looks of it, had gotten here way before I had.
“Ivy!” she said through a mouthful of blueberry bagel and cream cheese. She put a hand over her mouth and giggled. “Oh, sorry,” she said after swallowing. “I had an early cheerleading practice and haven’t had a chance to eat yet. Miss Summers was cool about it though, you want some?”
“Nah, I’m good thanks,” I said as pleasantly as possible as I hooked my bag on the back of my chair. “I didn’t know you were a cheerleader.”
She nodded. “Yup! All four years! Well, almost all four I was kind of a spazzy freshman, but I got in the spring of that year so…”
I nodded back even though I had no idea what she was talking about. Cheerleading and sports in general are like foreign languages to me; it doesn’t even help when someone explains them slowly. To be honest, I really shouldn’t have been surprised that Ashley was a cheerleader, mean the girl had enough pep and energy to power a small Midwestern city.
She must have noticed a lull in conversation, because she quickly changed the subject. “So, what about you, do you have any extra circulars?’
“Not really,” I admitted, even though I was definitely not going to admit that they included talking to Ginny on the net until the wee hours of the morning and, oh yeah, hoping to sneak peeks of her boyfriend as he gets out of the shower which, conveniently is right across from my room.
“Really? Cause Michael said-”
I never did get to hear what Michael said because Miss Summers walked into the room, and we both immediately gave her our undivided attention.
“Wow, it’s quiet in here,” she commented. “Are you guys sure you’re highschoolers?” After smiling at her own joke she pulled out her trademark purple binder. “Alright drill…drill… okay, for your drill today I want you to… just write something, whatever you want. Then swap with your neighbor for feedback after I finish taking roll.”
“But we need a prompt!” a voice in the back whined.
“You kidding me, prompts are for wimps! Alright, your prompt is… birthday. Speaking of, mine’s next Friday. Gifts and poems describing my flawless beauty and sparkling personality will definitely be accepted.”
Ashley and I laughed, then started to work. I scribbled down the first thing that came to mind, looked it over, and then let panic set in.
“I’m done!” she announced, crossing an I and sliding her paper toward me. “Guess we have to share, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I agreed dumbly.
She smiled, gently taking my paper and handing me hers. “I’m nervous.”
“Really? Why would you be nervous?” I asked. It’s not like it would be a big deal if I read her secret thoughts about her boyfriend. Mine, however, could probably land me on an episode of Jerry Springer, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she just had to read along.
“Love is unspoken, wistful, like a wish made on a flickering birthday candle. Wow, Ivy, that’s deep! Did you write that!?”
I gave her a look and she lowered her head sheepishly. “Oh, right, duh. Wow, feel really embarrassed about mine now.”
I smiled reassuringly and started to read. It was the beginning of a story, almost a paragraph compared to my one cryptic sentence, about a little boy who got a cake bigger than he was and made a big old mess. “It’s adorable,” I said with a laugh.
“Really!?”
“Really,” I said honestly.
“I’m not much of a writer, but I think if I was I’d wanna write for little kids.”
Gorgeous, sweet, a cheerleader and aspiring children’s book writer? Was she auditioning for Miss America or what?
I opened my mouth to answer her but was startled by Miss Summer’s voice behind me. “You girls finished?”
“Yup!” Ashley chirped. “Ivy’s is really good.”
“I’m sure it is,” she replied, flashing me a smile as she looked over Ashley’s. “Oh, Ashley that is one of the sweetest things I have ever read. Purple frosting was a nice touch.”
She beamed and my stomach started to knot as she reached for mine.
“Oh wow, Ivy,” she said softly. “This is gorgeous, there’s just one problem.”
“There is?” I all but squeaked.
Her smile widened. “It’s too short, I need to know the rest.” she said, gently sitting it down on the desk.
She was always like that. Miss Summers always knew just the right thing to say to a person, and knew that nothing anyone wrote was entirely awful or that no student was completely hopeless. As I looked around the room, most of the class was wearing smiles identical to Ashley’s and my own, watching her walk back up to her desk.
“Alright, now for the part where you all hate me: homework.”
Okay so the smiles around the room faded a bit as I got out my pen, ready to jot it down on a Post it. Ashley, I noticed, had one of those tiny leather planners that soccer moms seemed to be so fond of.
“I got it on sale at Kelly‘s” she whispered, when she caught me staring.
“Its… adorable,” I said awkwardly.
“Okay, so your assignment is to write a poem about the person whose the most important person in your life this very second. Not setting a deadline, but I do wanna check on your progress.”
Forget smiles being faded, mine had dissolved as fast as it came, but Ashley’s just got bigger. “Think we can guess who I’m writing about,” she said, giving me a nudge.
I laughed nervously. “Yeah? Not too sure who I’m going to do mine on yet.”
I was so screwed.
Fandom/Verse: Among the Ashes
Characters/Pairings: Ivy, Miss Summers, Ashley
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Mine, all mine.
I walked into Miss Summer’s class the next day determined not to let Ashley get to me. She hadn’t made the mistake of being late twice and by the looks of it, had gotten here way before I had.
“Ivy!” she said through a mouthful of blueberry bagel and cream cheese. She put a hand over her mouth and giggled. “Oh, sorry,” she said after swallowing. “I had an early cheerleading practice and haven’t had a chance to eat yet. Miss Summers was cool about it though, you want some?”
“Nah, I’m good thanks,” I said as pleasantly as possible as I hooked my bag on the back of my chair. “I didn’t know you were a cheerleader.”
She nodded. “Yup! All four years! Well, almost all four I was kind of a spazzy freshman, but I got in the spring of that year so…”
I nodded back even though I had no idea what she was talking about. Cheerleading and sports in general are like foreign languages to me; it doesn’t even help when someone explains them slowly. To be honest, I really shouldn’t have been surprised that Ashley was a cheerleader, mean the girl had enough pep and energy to power a small Midwestern city.
She must have noticed a lull in conversation, because she quickly changed the subject. “So, what about you, do you have any extra circulars?’
“Not really,” I admitted, even though I was definitely not going to admit that they included talking to Ginny on the net until the wee hours of the morning and, oh yeah, hoping to sneak peeks of her boyfriend as he gets out of the shower which, conveniently is right across from my room.
“Really? Cause Michael said-”
I never did get to hear what Michael said because Miss Summers walked into the room, and we both immediately gave her our undivided attention.
“Wow, it’s quiet in here,” she commented. “Are you guys sure you’re highschoolers?” After smiling at her own joke she pulled out her trademark purple binder. “Alright drill…drill… okay, for your drill today I want you to… just write something, whatever you want. Then swap with your neighbor for feedback after I finish taking roll.”
“But we need a prompt!” a voice in the back whined.
“You kidding me, prompts are for wimps! Alright, your prompt is… birthday. Speaking of, mine’s next Friday. Gifts and poems describing my flawless beauty and sparkling personality will definitely be accepted.”
Ashley and I laughed, then started to work. I scribbled down the first thing that came to mind, looked it over, and then let panic set in.
“I’m done!” she announced, crossing an I and sliding her paper toward me. “Guess we have to share, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I agreed dumbly.
She smiled, gently taking my paper and handing me hers. “I’m nervous.”
“Really? Why would you be nervous?” I asked. It’s not like it would be a big deal if I read her secret thoughts about her boyfriend. Mine, however, could probably land me on an episode of Jerry Springer, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she just had to read along.
“Love is unspoken, wistful, like a wish made on a flickering birthday candle. Wow, Ivy, that’s deep! Did you write that!?”
I gave her a look and she lowered her head sheepishly. “Oh, right, duh. Wow, feel really embarrassed about mine now.”
I smiled reassuringly and started to read. It was the beginning of a story, almost a paragraph compared to my one cryptic sentence, about a little boy who got a cake bigger than he was and made a big old mess. “It’s adorable,” I said with a laugh.
“Really!?”
“Really,” I said honestly.
“I’m not much of a writer, but I think if I was I’d wanna write for little kids.”
Gorgeous, sweet, a cheerleader and aspiring children’s book writer? Was she auditioning for Miss America or what?
I opened my mouth to answer her but was startled by Miss Summer’s voice behind me. “You girls finished?”
“Yup!” Ashley chirped. “Ivy’s is really good.”
“I’m sure it is,” she replied, flashing me a smile as she looked over Ashley’s. “Oh, Ashley that is one of the sweetest things I have ever read. Purple frosting was a nice touch.”
She beamed and my stomach started to knot as she reached for mine.
“Oh wow, Ivy,” she said softly. “This is gorgeous, there’s just one problem.”
“There is?” I all but squeaked.
Her smile widened. “It’s too short, I need to know the rest.” she said, gently sitting it down on the desk.
She was always like that. Miss Summers always knew just the right thing to say to a person, and knew that nothing anyone wrote was entirely awful or that no student was completely hopeless. As I looked around the room, most of the class was wearing smiles identical to Ashley’s and my own, watching her walk back up to her desk.
“Alright, now for the part where you all hate me: homework.”
Okay so the smiles around the room faded a bit as I got out my pen, ready to jot it down on a Post it. Ashley, I noticed, had one of those tiny leather planners that soccer moms seemed to be so fond of.
“I got it on sale at Kelly‘s” she whispered, when she caught me staring.
“Its… adorable,” I said awkwardly.
“Okay, so your assignment is to write a poem about the person whose the most important person in your life this very second. Not setting a deadline, but I do wanna check on your progress.”
Forget smiles being faded, mine had dissolved as fast as it came, but Ashley’s just got bigger. “Think we can guess who I’m writing about,” she said, giving me a nudge.
I laughed nervously. “Yeah? Not too sure who I’m going to do mine on yet.”
I was so screwed.