Our silent symphony

CHAPTER TWO

Biology was first period, which meant parting ways with Bert. He headed off to his class with a lazy wave, and I slipped into mine, sliding into my usual spot by the window. Something about the light and the view outside made everything a little easier to bear.

Our teacher walked in, briefcase swinging, and the class shifted into its familiar hum.

“Alright,” he began, scanning the room, ." I hope we're ready for today's class"

Murmurs began and I could pick out some nasty comments already.

“ Who can tell me how the brain uses oxygen?” His gaze landed squarely on McKenna Schneider.

Of course.

McKenna stood, rolling her eyes like the question was beneath her and twirling a strand of her ponytail around one finger. The room ticked by in silence. She didn’t even try.

Something inside me snapped. Not loudly—just a quiet ugh in my chest. I raised my hand, then stood before he could call on me. “The brain uses about twenty percent of the body’s oxygen supply,” I explained, my voice steady. “It needs it to convert glucose into energy. Without enough oxygen, the brain can’t function properly, and that’s why hypoxia—low oxygen levels—can cause dizziness, fainting, or worse.”

A hush fell across the room as the teacher’s eyes lit up. “Excellent, Gwen. Very thorough.” He turned back to McKenna. “You might consider asking Gwen for some tutoring, if you can set aside that pride of yours.”

The chuckles that followed were low but sharp enough to sting. McKenna’s jaw tightened, and she gave me the kind of glare that could curdle milk.

“I wouldn’t stoop so low as to take lessons from a freaky nerd,” she snapped, flipping her hair.

Her words slid over me like water off glass. I packed my notebook into my bag and looked up, meeting her eyes with all the calm in the world. “Good,” I said evenly. “Because I don’t give free lessons.”

A ripple of laughter rolled through the room as the bell rang. I stood, smoothing down my skirt, and walked out, already shifting my focus to the next class.

History was next, and since the universe clearly had a sense of humor, the only open seat was beside Zack Miller. Zack: the boy with perfect hair, dimples deep enough to hide secrets, and one very annoying hobby—pestering me.

“Hey, Gwen,” he whispered as soon as I sat down. “Be my girlfriend.”

I groaned under my breath, opening my notebook. “Not today, Zack.”

“So… tomorrow then?” His grin stretched across his face like it lived there rent-free.

I ignored him, flipping to a clean page.

“Okay, but just hear me out—”

“Zack.” I turned, adjusting my glasses. “Focus on history. You know, the subject you’re failing.”

He clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch, my heart. You wound me, Gwen Mathews.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw the back of my head.

That’s when the door creaked open, and Bert slipped in, late as usual. His hair was a little messy, his shirt only half-tucked, and he gave the teacher an apologetic grin before sliding into the only available seat—all the way at the back.

But even from here, I could feel his eyes. Burning holes straight through Zack’s back.

I smirked to myself, biting down a laugh. Classic Bert.

By the time lunch rolled around, I was starving. I spotted Bert at our usual table, already with food laid out.

“You’ve been waiting long?” I asked, sliding into my seat.

He shook his head. “Not really. Just got here.”

Good. Because my stomach didn’t care for polite conversation—I dug into the food like I hadn’t eaten in days. A very unladylike burp slipped out, and I set to work on the fries as if they held the secrets of the universe.

“So…” Bert leaned back, watching me. “What did Zack say to you during class?”

I made a face at him. “Mind your business.”

He ignored me, of course. “I’ll have to warn him.”

That made me look up, grinning wickedly. “Actually, I was planning to say yes to Zack.”

Bert’s fork froze midair. His eyes widened, and then—

“Gwenevere McKenna Matthews,” he said, each word sharp as a knife. “Did you forget our promise?”

I burst out laughing. “Stop calling me McKenna. You know that’s her name. Imagine Schneider finding out my middle name? She’d go completely haywire.”

“Don’t change the subject. You’re not serious about Zack.”

“Why not?” I played with a fry, twirling it like a drumstick. “He likes me. I think I might like him too. Maybe we should both forfeit the promise—me with Zack, you with Schneider.”

“Gwen.” His voice softened, carrying something that made me glance up. His eyes weren’t teasing anymore. They were hurt. “Plushie…”

I threw the fry at his face, laughing. “Relax, I was kidding!”

He exhaled, long and heavy. “You had me thinking you forgot.”

“Never.” I smirked. “I’ll keep the promise. Always.”

“You better.” He pointed his fork at me playfully.

Before I could respond, the cafeteria atmosphere shifted. McKenna Schneider strutted over, hips swaying, voice sugary-sweet. She shoved Bert’s plate toward me and perched on the table, directly in front of him.

“Hi, Bert,” she sang, fiddling with his sleeve like he was some kind of doll.

Bert pried her hand off. “If you have something to say, Schneider, sit down properly.”

She pouted, but sat—strategically blocking his view of me. I almost laughed.

Her chatter began, endless and syrupy. Bert’s eyes darted around like a trapped animal before landing on me. “McKenna?” he said, winking.

My bottom lip jutted out in a pout. Gathering my books, I stood. “You know where to find me.”

“You won’t be finding her anywhere,” Schneider shot back smugly.

I just turned and walked away, letting her words roll right off me.