Dreamer

by Aletheia, 9

A September 2024 Monthly Story Challenge Winner

I was floating, soaring through the sky, light as a feather, in the smooth, milky, starry galaxy, bouncing off of planets, my hair flying around, out of this world, cal- BRRRRRING! I jumped, startled by the bell. Homeroom was over, and next was math. I breathed in, then breathed out. It was a thing Mom (she was a yoga instructor) had taught me to calm my nerves. I breathed in again, then stopped, confused by the smell wafting in the air. Oh no, I thought. Celia was coming. (Ok, so I know that Celia is my best friend, but sometimes she can be a little rude.)

I braced myself for her to run up the hallway and start the one-way train to guilt town. The reason why I say ‘guilt town’ is because whenever something goes wrong, Celia somehow finds a way to blame it on me. Like one time, Mia, my little sister, walked down the hallway with her friends, giggling about a song that I always hear her singing on her Karaoke set that she got last year for Christmas. Celia saunters over and moves her foot so that it goes right where Mia was about to walk.

You know how in movies everything slows down all at once? That was just like this. Mia spilled her Shirley Temple all over her dress, the cord connected to her iPod snaps, and she falls flat on her face. Her friends had scampered around her, picking up her stuff and helping her get up. I picked up her bags, gave them to her, and said “Sorry, Mia! Are you okay?” She nodded, sent a death glare to Celia, and left with her friends. 

I wheeled around, and screamed, “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!?!?!? THAT’S MY SISTER!!”

 “It was just a joke, relax.” Good old Celia, always playing the ‘just a joke’ card. 

“Why did you trip her?” She asked. 

I shouted, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN!?!?!?!” and stormed away.

Anyway, back to the story.

 I sighed, and ran for my life (so that Celia wouldn’t find me) to math. Back at the classroom, the teacher, Mr. Todd, hadn’t arrived yet, so I slumped back into my chair and sighed again. Just then, I heard footsteps coming from the teachers’ lounge, and I plug my ears, waiting for the “great scampering.” Jonas, Nico, and Peter chuck their paper airplanes into the garbage bin, smush their Pokemon cards into their desks, and sat down with little innocent smiles on their faces, looking like little angels. I hear a snicker coming from the left side of the room. Leslie had taken a video of the boys making trouble.

Mr. Todd walks in, a huge warm smile on his face. 

“Hello everyone!” he says gleefully. 

“Good morning, Mr. Todd.” we all say in unison. It was our little morning greeting that Mr. Todd had made up, ‘to start things off on the right foot’ he had said. 

Leslie sashays over to Mr. Todd with her phone in her hand. 

“Look at what I found the boys doing!” Leslie boasts. She plays the video, and I can hear Jonas suck in his breath, scared if they’ll get in trouble or not. 

“Oh, that’s okay, Leslie. I’m sure they were just getting their brains ready for a… POP QUIZ!” Mr. Todd breaks out into a huge grin, pleased with himself. Everybody groans, except for me because I knew that it was going to be about standard algorithm, the subject we were learning. I smile, remembering that I had spent my free time studying for the test. One hour later, we were receiving our scores back and being dismissed. 

As I was exiting the classroom, I heard a voice call out, “Hey! Emma! Hi!” and a hand shoot up in the wave of students. 

“Hey, Celia.” I offered her a slight smile. 

She returned it, and asked me, “What did you get on the test?” 

Since I had studied, I replied, “98%, what about you?”

 “Ohmigosh, 98!?!? I got a 42. I don’t know why though, we spent so much time at our hangout studying. Ms. Carson said that if I don’t start getting higher grades soon I might have to redo eighth grade!” she hurriedly explained. 

“Oh no! That’s terrible!” I lied. I honestly thought that I would be better off without her always bugging me, but I didn’t say that.

 “Yeah, I know, right!?!” She exclaimed. 

“Mm-hm.” I nodded my head, playing along. Suddenly, her face grew dark. 

“Why did you make me get a bad score!?!? You’re the worst friend ever.” 

I quickly apologized, and she just glared first at me, and then at Mr. Todd’s classroom. 

“Ugh, nevermind,” she said, waving her hand behind her like she was dismissing her imaginary servant.

“Hey, Emma, do you want to put three HUGE buckets of Nickelodeon slime up on top of the door to Mr. Todd’s classroom so that he gets slimed?” She asked with a huge, evil grin on her face. 

“Um, no thanks, sorry,” I said. Mr. Todd was my favorite teacher. Of course I wouldn’t do that! 

“Oh well, your loss,” she replied. 

“Bye,” was all I said as I ran down the hallway.

I rushed to the girls bathroom, and headed to one of the stalls to text Mia about what was going to happen. I heard a loud <CLICK> and zoomed out of the stall. The door was shut to the girls bathroom. My first instinct was to cry, but then I tested it to see if it was locked. (Celia isn’t the brightest lightbulb in the box.) I twisted, turned, pushed and pulled the door handle. I then tried kicking it (ow!) and then I realized that Celia had actually LOCKED the door! 

I grunted, annoyed that Celia had locked the door on me, her best friend. I gasped, remembering a trick that I’d seen in a movie. I quickly searched myself for a hairpin, then scolded myself for not thinking. Come on, Emma. Where is the one place that a literal HAIRPIN would be? It’s obvious! I run my fingers through my hair. Feeling a sharp pain jolt through my fingers, I pull a small hairpin out. I insert it into the keyhole, and then the door swings open.

Freedom! I think, my emotions a mix of happiness, worry, and anger. 

I walk over to Celia, and ask her, “Why did you lock me in the girls’ restroom?” 

She tilts her head, like a little puppy. 

“What do you mean?” she replies. 

“You were the only person who knew I was in there!” I exclaimed. 

“Okay, okay! I did it! But it was just a joke, Emma!” she confesses. I glare at her, and walk away.

I sprint towards the classroom, not wanting Mr. Todd to get slimed. I screech to a halt, and see the silhouette of Mr. Todd and the students already in the classroom, unharmed. Whew! Celia must have put it up AFTER they got in. I then turn around, and then I see Celia, grinning all evil-like, waiting for her next ‘victim’. I hear the tap click tap click of footsteps. Ms. Carson, the principal, walks down the hall, headed straight for Mr. Todd's classroom. I try to run ahead of her so that I would get slimed and not her, but she opens the door and gets slimed. 

Green goo slides down her hair, and she screams in disgust. 

“CELIA!!! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS SECOND, YOUNG LADY!!!” she shrieks. 

Well, somebody’s upset. Celia timidly scuttles down to Ms. Carson. While Ms. Carson reprimands Celia, I go down to Mr. Todd and explain what happened. He nods, understanding the situation. He then walks over to Ms. Carson, tells her what I just told him, and she calls me and Celia to the principal’s office after she takes a shower.

At the principals’ office, she has a discussion with Celia. 

Then she turns to me, and asks me, “What did she do?” 

I replied with, “She locked me in the girls bathroom, dumped slime on you, tripped my sister, Mia, and was just plain mean.” Ms. Carson kept her eyes on me, but shared some shocking (I’m sorry but kinda happy) news. 

“Celia will not be returning to this school anymore.” I gasped, not knowing what to feel. She excused us, and we left.

“It was just a joke, Emma,” Celia said. 

I replied with a straight face, still looking forward, “Well, you should have been funnier.” I walked towards the bike rack, grabbed my bike, and rode home. 

I hopped off my bike, and walked my bike into the garage, washed my hands, and sprawled myself all over the couch. 

“Hello, little sunshine!” Mom says. I flash her a quick droopy face, and then she sighs dramatically, just to make me crack a smile. 

“What do you want for dinner?” she asks me.

“Anything works, but I would kill for sushi,” Dad interjects and replies for me.

“You know that I was talking to her, right?” Mom says back.

“Honestly, I would kill for sushi though,” I reply, getting my parents’ heads to turn and look at me like me talking was a miracle. 

“It’s alive!” Dad jokes, and everybody laughs. I smile again, and then my mom goes to her computer to make a reservation. We get in the car, and drive off to the sushi restaurant. 

As we’re eating dinner, Mom asks me what happened at school. I go into explaining the Celia jig, with acting out the parts, my thoughts on it, and all. Dad frowns, and says, “Yes, Celia wasn’t that polite to you OR to us.” Mom nods, agreeing with Dad’s opinion. We drive home, and then go to bed.

I opened my eyes, and I was surprised to find that the room was dark and Mom was leaning over me, tapping my shoulder repeatedly. “Uhhhhh” I groan. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can see a very tired Dad behind her, drinking coffee. Mom has that wild look in her eye that means she has a very chaotic idea that sounds good to her, and bad to us. 

“GOOD MORNING!!!” Mom screams excitedly. 

“Good morning,” I acknowledge. “What time is it?”

“Three am!” Apparently, Mom can’t stop being hyped about the mystery that I will probably figure out soon.

I drag my tired body to the kitchen, grab a piece of chocolate zucchini bread, slump down on the chair, and take a bite.

We eat in silence, until Mom speaks up. 

“Everybody, Emma had a hard day yesterday, I have a yoga workshop that I have to do there, and your father needs a good setting for his book. We are going to Lake Tahoe, everybody has ten minutes to pack, and we’re going NOW!” Me and Dad exchange glances, worried. 

“Where are we going?” I ask, curious on where we would go to sleep, eat, etc.

“Uh..Um.. The Ritz Carlton!” Mom declares, “We’re staying with points, and we’re going to eat wherever we can and we’re going to sleep..Hmm..In a double queen room (Me and your dad will sleep in one bed and you can sleep in the other) and WE’RE GOING SKIING!!!!!!” Me and Dad cheer, and then grow confused. 

“It’s three am, how will we drive?” me and Dad ask. 

“I dunno, we can just drive super fast?” Mom says, with it sounding more like a question more than an answer.

“Okay!” I exclaim.

We pack, and I make a little toiletries bag, which includes my hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, and a LOT of Scrunchies. Then I pull out the ever-so-heavy Ski Bag, which includes all of our ski gear. I grab my goggles, ski pants, snow boots, and two protection ski hoodies that hold our ski passes. Then I grab a few dresses, some shirts, pants, underwear, and a swimsuit (there is a hot tub and pool that’s actually super fun when it’s not below zero), and then I shove it all in my suitcase. I leave some room for souvenirs, and then zip it all shut.

I zoom towards the kitchen, make a ton of chamomile tea, and splash it into my 64 oz., keep-warm thermos. I nab my suitcase, thermos, stuffie, and pillow and load them into the trunk. I keep my stuffie, pillow, iPad, and headphones in the backseat with me. I press PLAY, and then I let the music take me away. 

I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I woke up in the back seat of the car, sighing, waiting for the drive to end. I jam out for a couple of hours, and then the car comes to a stop. We wait by the car drop off place (I don’t really know what it’s called), and then a nice man comes and carries our stuff out. “Thank you!” I say, flashing him a smile. He nods, and then a strange tinted Mercedes Maybach S650 comes out. I see a glittery boot come out, and then I almost FAINT from happiness. TAYLOR SWIFT IS AT THE RITZ CARLTON AT THE SAME TIME AS ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I gasp, and try to sneak a glance at her, just to see her.

She must’ve caught me, because she smiled and waved at me. 

“Hi!” she exclaims, as if we’ve known each other for our entire lives. 

“Hi,” I sheepishly wave at her. “How are you?” I ask, actually interested in how she’s doing.

 “Good, you?” she replies back. 

“Great! What’s your name?” I ask, trying to make small talk even though she’s LITERALLY THE MOST FAMOUS PERSON ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET!!! 

“Taylor! What about yours?” she replies.

“Emma!” I say, smiling. She smiles, and then we walk over to the check-in desk. I look up, and then see a familiar face.

 “Frank!” I exclaim.

 “Emma!” he says. I guess he recognized me! 

“Uh..bu..wha..who..why?” he stammers. He gawked, staring at Taylor. 

“Hi!” she says. Frank looks shocked and surprised by the celebrity at his hotel. 

“Oh.. Um.. Hi,” He stares, waving like a little robot. He shakes his head, like he was shaking off his little haze.

“Welcome, Ms. Swift, Emma, and family,” he says as he leads us inside. He pours one glass full with Martinelli’s Apple Cider, gives it to me, and then asks Taylor, “Cider, or Champagne?” Taylor turns towards me and whispers, “Is the cider good?” I nod, and she replies, “Cider, please.” He hands her the cider, and then we walk over to the concierge. 

We check in, and then smile as we realize that our rooms are right

 next to each other. We head to our rooms, and then open the separating door. “Hi!” we say together. We burst into laughter, and then start unpacking.

We then meet up at Cafe Blue, and I order a hot chocolate. Me and Taylor sit down at a table, and then we talk. 

“What do you want to do today?” I ask her.

“I don’t know, wanna go skiing?” 

“Okay, sure! Do you have a ski pass?”

“Umm…lemme check... Oh! Yes, I do. You?”

“Yup!”

“Then, let’s go!”

“YAY!”

We walk back to the counter, and get to-go cups. Then we walk to our room. We get changed into ski clothes, and we head out to the ski-in, ski-out place. We nab some boots and skis, and then step out onto the fresh snow. We glide towards the ski lifts, and then hop on. As we’re riding the ski lift, she pulls out her phone. 

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Oh, just telling my bodyguards where I am.” she replies.

“Okay!” I respond, now understanding. We hop off the ski lift, and start gliding down the hill. 

“WHEEEEEEEEEE!” we scream. We go again and again, whooping and shrieking as we go. After our fifty-something ride, we finish with a stop but we crash into each other. 

“Sorry!” we say in unison. 

“JINX!” we shriek, but then I hear a loud <DING>. Taylor checks her phone, and then a worried look flashes across her face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, but she replies with a calm (but I can sense the worry) response. 

“Um, do you want to go back inside for lunch?”

“Sure, but I think we should change first.” I reply. Taylor looks relieved, like she was glad I asked to go back to our rooms. 

“Yes, please!” she says. We stumble back to our rooms, and we get dressed back into regular clothes. But before Taylor steps out of her room, she peeks around the hallway like someone was following her. 

We walk towards The Backyard Bar & Barbecue, order, and sit down. We talk for a while, and then our food comes out. 

“Thank you!” We both say. 

“No problem!” the waiter responds. I focus on his name tag, and see that it reads James. “Thank you, James!” I say. He flashes me a smile, and then he walks away, and then I take a bite of my juicy, delicious burger. “Mmm, that’s good!” Taylor says, with a happy smile on her face. “Yeah, definitely!” I agree. We continue eating, and then ask for the check. As we’re waiting, Taylor speaks up.

 “Do you want to go swimming?” she asks.

“OMG, yes!!!” I say. We pay, get changed, and walk back down to the pool. “CANNONBALL!!!” we scream. We jump in, and start attacking each other with water. We do this for about an hour or so, until it gets dark. 

We jump out of the pool, sprint towards our rooms, and take long, hot, showers. We emerge after, and then eat dinner at The Living Room. After our yummy dinner at The Living Room, we decide to have a sleepover. As Taylor & I walked towards her room for the sleepover, we hear a noise on the other side of the hallway.

 “What was that?” I asked, concerned. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing.” Taylor says, calm even though I can sense a hint of worry in her voice. We continue walking, a little more cautious but still normal.

As Taylor’s finishing painting the last nail of my left hand, we hear a knock on her door. Taylor’s bodyguards jump into action, surrounding her. “Come in!” she shouts over the chaos. A brunette-haired girl with a psycho smile and a mean look in her eye walks in. Celia! I think. I’m too shocked to speak, so I just stand there, flabbergasted, like a fool. Then it finally hits me. Celia is here! 

My inner brain is screaming at me to move, my body is agreeing with my brain to ignore her and forget about her existence, but my heart is forcing my brain to chill. It’s Mean Girl! Body, ask Mouth to ignore her and forget about her existence! (ignore her and forget about her existence! ignore her and forget about her existence! ignore her and forget about her existence!) No, Brain, Body and I are also mad, but we need to calm down. Celia may have been a bad person, but we need to show compassion.  Okay, but to be honest I kinda agree with Brain. Body! Shame on you! Brain! Shame on you too! This is no way to treat our best friend! EX-best friend. Don’t you remember that Mean Girl trapped you in the girls bathroom? Okay, Okay that is true but… NO! Fine. You win. I give up.

 I glare at Celia, and then I whisper to Taylor, “She’s the one I was talking about!” Taylor and I scowl at Celia. Celia then asks, “Taylor, can I talk to you in private?” Taylor then shoots a worried look at me, and I whisper, “Just be careful. Celia can be VERY persuasive.” “Okay. I will.” she whispered back. She walks into the master bedroom with Celia, and ten minutes later she comes out, her face streaked with tears. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked her.

“Celia-” her voice breaks on that word. “Celia, she tried to blackmail me. She told me ‘You know, Emma’s done some pretty bad things. It would be a shame if someone leaked them. Oh! I have an idea! Secrets for money. Deal?’ And then she reached for my wallet. I tried to open the door, but she blocked me. That’s when I started crying. I twisted the door handle, and then I burst open. And now I’m here talking to you.” She breaks down, and I comfort her. Taylor’s bodyguards surround her, and then I drag Celia towards her room. 

“Open up!” I shout, banging on the door. 

“What?” her dad snapped. “Oh, hello, Emma!” he said, his tone changing. 

“Hi, Mr. Furnsen.” I replied back. “Celia tried to blackmail Taylor Swift.”

“HONEY!” Mr. Furnsen screamed into the darkness of the hotel room.

“WHAT?” his wife screeched back.

“YOU KNOW THAT BOARDING SCHOOL THAT WE TALKED ABOUT BRINGING CELIA TO?” 

“WHAT?!? I CAN’T HEAR YOU!!” 

“COME HERE THEN!” 

A fat, scrunched-up faced lady comes out. 

“Whaddya want?” she snapped. Guess the apple don’t fall far from the tree. 

“I said, Celia is going to go to that boarding school that we talked about.” 

“So? That’s it? I walked all the way over here just to hear that? Lame.”

She wobbles off, and then brings some strange papers. “Here ya go, leave me alone.” Mr. Furnsen grumbles something about how stupid it is to have to do everything, and then he snatches the papers. He grabs a pen and signs them. “Here ya go, Celia. You’re going to Ms. Lat’s Boarding School for Young Individuals.” Celia looks dumbfounded, and then grabs the papers. She shoves her dad into the room, and then slams the door in my face.

 I zoom towards Taylor, who is standing in the hallway. I nod at her, and then we do a victory dance. We go to the car lot, and wave Celia a goodbye. We then turn around, and leap into our amazing vacation. I opened my eyes, sunlight flooding into my room.  It was just a dream.

Photo by Obie Fernandez on Unsplash