Elena Clarke
Elena Clarke is a fourteen-year-old girl with the strangest obsession- scrapbooking. When you thinking of scrapbooks, what comes to mind is mothers gathering a bunch of old baby pictures into a book. However, for Elena, her scrapbook is the opposite. It was an outlet for her wild imagination. Since she does not have many friends, her scrapbooks are mostly fantasy- girls she wishes she could be friends with and boys she wishes to date. Every day she comes home from school, she puts at least one new item in her scrapbook. Sometimes it's a picture from a magazine, sometimes it's a picture she prints off the internet. When what Elena's thinking of doesn't already exist in the world, she will create it herself, by either writing or drawing. Nobody knows about Elena's scrapbook. She hides it in a black shoebox under her bed. Even if she kept it on her bedside table, it would still probably never get scene. Elena did not have siblings or a father to snoop through her things.
One of the things that bothers Elena the most is constantly being compared to her nearly perfect mother. She cannot even count the amount of times people say “wait…Danielle's your mother?! You look NOTHING a like!” Her mother has platinum blonde hair that she curls every single morning, even if she is only going to her exercise class. Her mom is tall, 5'10 to he exact, and often 6'0 or more with shoes she wears. She has an extensive closet of designer shoes and bags gifted to her by her many bachelors. Her favourite colour to wear was red. The colour did match her personality- bold and attention grabbing. Elena never ever wears red. In fact, she never wears any bright or neon colours at all- she prefers to just blend in. She sticks to grays, black, and camel. Elena is also pretty, but in different way- Elena's big blue eyes, high cheekbones, and dark hair give her a more unique look, different from Danielle's conventional beauty. Unlike her mother, she is shy and timid. Words just do not come easily to her. That is why she loved her scrapbook. For some reason, it was so much easier for her to express her thoughts that way.
It was a hot October day, but in Elena's Santa Monica house, it felt so cold. Her mother was not home, so the house was completely empty. Elena just got home from school, and as usual, headed straight upstairs with a bowl of her favourite blackberry ice cream. She took down her long dark hair from her schoolgirl bun and let her curls cascade down her shoulders. She spilled out the contents of her backpack onto the ground: her French textbook, her English book, her calculator, two pens, and three Jolly Ranchers wrappers. She carefully glued all three wrappers into a fresh page in her scrapbook. She drew red hearts of all different sizes around the wrappers with her red marker. These we not just any regular old Jolly Rancher wrapper- they belonged to Mike. Mike meant everything to Elena, although he may not even know her name. She sits diagonally behind him in history class, so she can watch him without him seeing her do so. Yes, some could say this is creepy, but Elena could not help herself. She was head over heals for Mike. He had dark brown hair light aqua eyes. He never wrote any notes in class, but always seemed to be thinking. Elena wished she knew what he was thinking about. If only it was her. That day, he left behind the three wrappers on his desk, two blue raspberry and one grape, so Elena lingered after class, doodling in her notebook, then grabbed the wrappers once Mike left. She pasted them into her notebook and she drew a picture of her and Mike right next to it. They were on the beach holding hands. She drew the picture with pencil, only in black and white, but took her red marker to fill in her bikini and his swim trunks. Yes, this image was entirely imaginary, but she hoped one day it would be a reality. Of course, Mike always had a girlfriend. They reminded Elena of her mother; bubbly, flirty, confident, and with hourglass figures. She would quietly watch as new girls came and left from his life. The girlfriend of the time would follow him around for the time being; waiting for him at his locker, bringing him sandwiches for lunch, and walking with him to class. These girls dated him anytime from a few days to a few weeks. Then they would disappear, as far as Elena was concerned. However, she did not want to be one of those girls. She wanted to be the girl that Mike would keep.
It was a usual day in history class. It was first period and kids were beginning to shuffle into class. Elena was exactly on time and sat in her usual seat. She was wearing a light beige sundress with a brown long sweater and matching brown boots. Five minutes into the class, Mike strolled in. There was only one seat left in the class, which was directly to the right of Elena. He plopped his red backpack onto the floor, and pushed bad his disheveled dark hair away from his face. As he sat in the small plastic desk chair, Elena's heart beat louder and her sweaty hands griped the edge of her desk. She had never ever been this close to him in his life. Mrs. Johnson walked around the room handing back the test from last week. In her disappointed voice, she said “Some of you really impressed me with this test. Good work. However, others of you were not as successful.” Everyone's eyes grew wide with fear, and the morning grog disappeared from their face. “For the few of you who did not do well,” she continues, “I have assigned you to partner up with the few A plus students here.” Mrs. Johnson made her way to Elena's desk, and smiled admirably at her. She handed her a paper with a smiley face on top, right next to the A plus. Yes, Elena did well in school. If she was not scrapbooking she was studying. What else did she really have to do? She did not care to hang out wit her few friends, she did not have a boyfriend, and she was not one for sports. Her lanky figure lacked the muscle tone that athletes had. She signed up for soccer in seventh grade, but when she kicked the ball, it only went a few feet and hurt her delicious toes anyway. She was content with her grade. Maybe she would cut it out for her scrapbook when she got home. It took Elena a few seconds to notice a little sticky note on the top of her page. In Mrs. Johnson's curly handwriting it said “Good job. I would love if you could stay after class to be partnered up with one of my struggling students.” Elena rolled her light blue eyes and crossed her arms. All the other kids lazily walked out of the class. However, Mike and Elena stayed behind, as requested. Mrs. Johnson flashed both of them a tight smile and sits down on her desk. “You two probably know why you are here,” she said in a madder-of-fact tone, “Elena, you did an outstanding job on the test, Mike, not so much. It would be very kind of you, Elena, if would volunteer to tutor Mike on the material. So?” Elena's eyes grew wide with excitement, but her palms were still sweating with nerve. “Y-Yes!” Elena blurted, with a little too much enthusiasm, “I mean, um. Sure.” Mrs. Johnson turned to Mike, who was looking down at his feet, quite possibly not even listening. “Um, thanks” Mike sheepishly muttered.
That day, Elena took a break from her scrapbooking. Mike and Elena made plans to meet after school to study at Elena's house, which was only a few minutes from school. The house was fairly large, with clay shingles covering the roof. It was your typical Southern California house, with an outdoor courtyard and of coarse, a pool. When Mike's car pulled up in Elena's driveway, her entire face lit up with excitement- her light blue eyes grew wide and her pink lips stretched ear-to-ear. This was very rare for Elena- she usually did not show much emotion. She let him in the house and led him to the kitchen table. She had laid everything out in advance- her extensive notes, her annotated book with sticky-notes on the key pages, and her outstanding tests. “A lot of stuff you got there” He said, “Elaine, right?” Elena was kind of disappointed he did not know her name, but what did she really expect. “Elena” she said, as she smiled shyly. As they went over review material, something about them clicked. They looked different, they had different friends, and different interests, but their minds worked the same way. At first Elena was timid at first, but once their conversation progressed, she finally let down her guard. They figured out they were both shy, but in different ways. “I find it hard to relate to people,” Mike started, “All people seem to care about at this school is stupid stuff like TV. And I hate TV.” Elena smiled. He talked about how he loves to read, but does not see the appeal of schoolwork. As they chatted and chatted, the sun set behind them. He thanked Elena for helping and hugged her goodbye. She was in awe- his body was as warm and comforting as she had always imagined. As his car pulled down the driveway, Elena danced around in circles. She had no idea that this would go so well, but she was glad. Danielle pranked down the stairs and shot a big smile at Elena. “Oh baby girl! He's such a cutie! And I had no idea you could talk to boys- how did it go?” Elena looked embarrassed. “Yes, mom,” she said, “it went well.” Her mother walked down the stairs and grabbed her cheek “Well honey, I'm so proud. And he's a keeper!” Elena went up to her room and flipped through her scrapbook with satisfaction. Suddenly the world was going her way. She continued dancing around her room and smiled in the mirror.
They met again at Elena's house the next day. This time, Elena did not feel the need to get out all of her history notes, books, and tests. She was wearing high wasted jean shorts and a red tank top. She looked in the mirror and felt a sense of confidence that she had never experienced before. Her quirky features did not embarrass her anymore. When Mike pulled in her driveway, her palms were completely dry. They sat down on her white coach and started talking. There were no boundaries with their conversation. They talked about everything, well, except history. They talked about books, the people at their school, and things that they did not understand about the world, such as why people are so obsessed with TV. They discovered that they shared the same favourite flavor of ice-cream- blackberry. She leaped off the couch to scoop some from their freezer. To her disappointment, she had eaten it all. Since they were both in the mood for a big creamy bowl of blackberry ice cream, Elena volunteered to go get some from the market. It was a ten-minute drive, but she did not mind. She drove away in her blue mini cooper. The store had just one container of blackberry ice cream left. She had to jump to snatch it off the top shelf, because she was fairly short. She could not wait to further bond with Mike over their favorite ice cream flavor. As she drove home, she imaged them sharing a gigantic bowl of it. She would have a little bit of purple ice cream on her nose and he would kiss it off. Then, he would kiss her lips. She would write all about it in her scrapbook once he left. When she got home, she swung open the door to her house, ice cream in hand. She waltzed into the family room, where they had been hanging out. Mike was on the couch, but not in the same way she left him. Tears filled Elena's big blue eyes as her entire world collapsed in front of her eyes. A woman in a red dress was sitting on his lap, lip-locked with him. Nobody said anything. Nobody could say anything. Elena threw the ice cream at her mom's head and stormed out of the room and out of the house. She left in tears, not caring where she went, but far far away.