Jessica Park - Flat-Out Celeste

Copyright Jessica Park

ISBN-13: 978-1499646702

ISBN-10: 1499646704

This publication may only be reproduced with the prior permission in writing of the publishers.

Cover Design by Damonza

Interior Design by Benjamin Carrancho

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic , mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and accidental.

For Andrew, of course. Every daywithout failI am staggered by our friendship and by you. Thank you for being my clarity.

What Was Best

And so in short, that is what is meant by reductio ad absurdum . Celeste beamed at the class and closed her laptop. This past month had been worth it. And the joy of finally releasing her pent-up energy and excitement over this philosophy presentation had paid off. It had gone flawlessly. So the next time that you find yourself in a situation in which you must prove that something is true by showing it to be false, youll be sensationally equipped.

It really had been quite the fantastic and thorough presentation, although her classmates blank expressions did not appear to reflect it. A boy in a blue skull cap looked as though a medically induced coma might cause more of a reaction, and the girl with the possibly illegal-length mini-skirt was shooting a death stare in her direction. Celeste looked to her teacher, Mr. Gil, to see if his response was different. He appeared stunned. Something was wrong. Something had happened. What, however, she didnt know. She shut her eyes for a moment and ran over the past forty-five minutes. Had she forgotten something? It didnt matter what they thought, though.

Mr. Gil pursed his lips and appeared to be holding back a smile as he left his seat near the window. She didnt see anything the least bit amusing about the situation. In fact, her spirits were plummeting dramatically. That was quite It was quite brilliant. Are we sure youre a senior in high school and not already defending a dissertation? He winked just as the bell sounded loudly, and Celeste could breathe again.

Students brushed past her, one bumping her laptop and another not-so-accidentally stepping on her foot. Celeste looked straight forward and let their faces fly past her in a haze. It would not be good to focus now. She could see the eye rolls, and even under the clamor of the bell, she could hear the mumblings.

What a nut bag. Who understood anything she said?

I have, like, never been so bored in my entire life.

I dont care how totally hot she is; that was not normal.

Freak. Loser. Weirdo.

She clutched her laptop into her body until the room emptied.

Celeste?

The bell had stopped, and now a new noise took over in her head, reminiscent of wind or static.

Celeste? Are you all right?

Oh? Me? Yes, of course. Im quite all right. She turned and smiled at Mr. Gil. She liked him. He was a kind man and always spoke in a gentle voice. He also smelled chronically of wet leaves, but she could forgive that because he should not be faulted for an unfortunate cologne choice.

Are you sure? Your report was very detailed. I would imagine it might have been exhausting to present. You packed a lot of information in. As always, Im impressed, and I admire how hard you clearly worked on it.

I enjoy research. It is energizing and inspiring, she said. Smiling hurt her cheeks, but she did it anyway.

You sure youre okay? Im sorry if the class didnt respond with as much interest as you hoped. Some of the material may have been a bit beyond them.

I had expected the turnip metaphor to go over better, but it seems not everyone appreciates a clever philosophically grounded root vegetable reference. Celeste stepped to her desk and put her computer and folder into her red messenger bag.

I thought it was spot on and very clever indeed. He paused. Just because this is an excellent private school and the student body is largely bright and thoughtful doesnt mean that they are capable of what you just did. Or that they can understand it. Its okay, you know? Youre in a league well above that of your peers; you must know that. Its nothing to be ashamed of.

I am not ashamed, she said too quickly. Sorry. It is just that I do quite enjoy higher-level thinking. I had hoped to properly convey my enthusiasm for this subject to you, and I have done that.

You did well. Id like to write you a reference for college. I imagine that youre applying to all of the Ivy Leagues?

Yes, thank you. A reference would be most welcome.

Its only October, I know, but I thought you might be going for early decision at some. Are you applying anywhere outside of the Ivies? I have ideas for alternatives, if youre interested.

Alternatives? Why would I need alternatives? Celeste lifted her bag over her shoulder and took a step forward. The room began to spin slightly, and she stopped, dropping her gaze down. I apologize. It seems that I am a bit overtaken by the rush of adrenaline after my philosophy oration.

Mr. Gil frowned. Would you like some water?

I have a free period now. I shall get some and regroup. Her bag weighed heavily on her shoulder, and she momentarily feared it might just bore her through the floor and into geological oblivion.

Well, anyway, congratulations on a job well done. You should be proud. Mr. Gil buttoned his shawl cardigan and popped a piece of gum into his mouth before taking a seat behind his wooden desk. Ill see you tomorrow, kiddo.

Celeste lifted her head and took a deep breath. The door to the hall felt unnecessarily heavy, and she sighed as she shuffled from the classroom. Usually the dark wood floors and brass fixtures of the schools architecture were comforting, but the sound in her head had not quieted. What was that sound?

She should be happy. Today had mostly gone as she hoped it would; she had given a successful presentation with no response from or interaction with her peers. Its how she liked things. Not to have an effect on them, not even to be noticed. She could have done without the snide remarks following her oral report, but they were expected and short lived. Yet she was not elated.

Most students were in class now, and Celeste would use her free period to curl up in the schools library and read. She didnt have homework to do, so it might be a good time to reread some Jane Austen. She reached her locker and slowly worked the combination. It wouldnt open. She tried again. By the third try, she understood that it was hard to see the numbers on the dial because her eyes were watering. Blinking furiously eventually cleared her vision, and she was able to undo the lock. What in the world was wrong with her today?

As she slipped her bag into the locker, she was jolted by a crash when a girl with long, hot-pink hair slammed into the few lockers next to her.

That report totally rocked. The girl grinned and rested her head against the metal doors.

Celeste took her in. Yes, this girl was in her philosophy class. Considering her choice of hair color, she was hard to miss, but Celeste hadnt spoken to her before. Not that Celeste spoke to a lot of people anymore. Her social isolation was a choice that she was comfortable with. This girl was invading her territory, but Celeste would be polite anyway.

Your name is Dallas. Is that correct? Celeste asked. You often sit near the window and look outside instead of listening to our instructor.

The girl laughed. Youre a straight shooter. Yes, Im Dallas. But, no, Im not lost in thought. I learn better when Im not distracted by Mr. Gils tragic comb-over.