March & Feather

Emma Saska

Copyright © 2023 Emma Saska

Little Oaks Independent Publishing

Great Britain

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are productions of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Text copyright © 2023 by Emma Saska

Cover illustration copyright © 2023 by Tegan Anderson

Cover design and interior design by Tegan Anderson

First eBook edition February 2023

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022921334

ISBN 978-1-7391706-1-5 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-7391706-2-2 (eBook)

For Julia,

Who told me about the café where I finished this dear little story,

and for Ivy Jean, love of my life

WELCOME TO THE HOMESCHOOLERS ACROSS THE COUNTRY FORUM

Please click the link below to read and agree to the forum rules. You may not post on the forum until then. In addition, please always practice Internet safety.

BOARD ► Movies and Television Shows; THREAD ► Movie Recommendations

September 16, 2012, 4:42 pm EST, panda886 posted:

I’ve watched everything my parents own and my friends don’t have any good suggestions. So I’d love to see what you guys think I should watch. I’d prefer G or PG-rated movies, but some PG-13 movies should be okay, too.

September 16, 2012, 7:13 pm EST, feathergirl13 posted:

I’m assuming you’ve seen The Princess Bride? Most homeschoolers I know have. But if you haven’t, it’s really fun if you like adventure/fantasy films.

September 16, 2012, 9:02 pm EST, idesofmarch quoted feathergirl13’s post and added:

I 100% agree with feathergirl. It’s a classic. Anyone whosays differently is selling something.

September 16, 2012, 9:15 pm EST, feathergirl13 quoted idesofmarch’s post and added:

You seem a decent fellow. With excellent taste in movies.

◆◆◆

September 16, 2012, 9:20 pm EST, idesofmarch sent feathergirl13 a private message:

You seem very confident that I have good taste in movies considering you only know I love The Princess Bride.

September 16, 2012, 9:23 pm EST, feathergirl13 replied to idesofmarch’s PM:

Anyone who likes The Princess Bride can’t possibly like any bad movies.

◆◆◆

September 27, 2012, 2:19 pm EST, feathergirl13 sent idesofmarch a PM:

I have an idea…You can…is veto the right word? You can veto it though. What if we created Google email accounts just for chatting with each other? That would be so much easier than having to use PMs on this forum. We could use our usernames here as our names there so we could stay as anonymous as we want. What do you think?

September 27, 2012, 3:33 pm EST, idesofmarch replied:

I think that’s a great idea. Let’s do it.

September 27, 2012, 4:01 pm EST, idesofmarch said:

Got mine all created. I’m [email protected]. Let me know when you’ve got your account up and running.

September 27, 2012, 4:15 pm EST, feathergirl13 said:

Yay! Just created mine—it’s [email protected]. I’m off to email you!

Chapter One

Four years later…

Ping!

I jump, and my gaze darts around the room, trying to find who has their phone out. Honestly, it’s so annoying when people use their phones in class. The least they could do is fake taking notes like I’m doing.

Mrs. Kurtz pauses her U.S. government lecture, and she and my classmates look for the culprit.

Ping!

It sounds really close…

My cheeks grow warm as it dawns on me. I can’t believe this is happening! I never leave my ringer on, but I must have had it on earlier to watch a video or something.

I scramble for my phone to silence it, but it’s too late. Mrs. Kurtz has already zeroed in on me. She may go easy on me for not paying attention—after all, she’s known me since sixth grade—but teachers at Stony Point are super strict about phones in the classroom. I fumble with my phone, but my clammy hands can’t manage to hit the little buttons on the side.

Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, I babble. I thought the ringer was off. I swear this will never happen—

Ping!

My cheeks burn even hotter, and a couple of my classmates giggle. Mrs. Kurtz marches over to the table where I sit. She plants her hands on her hips, but her lips twitch. I’m not used to disappointing teachers, so I shrink down in my seat. Everyone is watching our interaction; they’re probably eager for me to get in trouble.

Mrs. Kurtz holds out her hand and says, Just in case, let’s turn off the phone, and then I’ll hold onto it. You can collect it from me after class, Audra.

I stare down at the table. I wish I could disappear. Yes, ma’am.

As I silence my phone, I catch sight of the notifications. Messages from March. Of course it had to be him texting me. When I tell him about this later, he’ll get a kick out of being the reason I got in trouble, particularly since I’m a bit of a notoriously dependable, compliant student. To put it simply, I’ve never been in the running for class clown.

My pen is glued to my notebook for the rest of class, but I really can’t be blamed for daydreaming about what I plan to make for dinner tonight instead of focusing on Mrs. Kurtz’s Supreme Court lesson. I learned all this stuff ages ago, thanks to my history professor dad, but four years of high school history are mandatory in Virginia, even for homeschoolers. As long as I turn in the homework, Mrs. Kurtz doesn’t care what I do in class, but my cell phone going off is kind of inexcusable. Still, her daughter, Lucy, is a senior like me, and we’ve been in most of the same classes over the years. That’s one of the best perks of going to a homeschool co-op: you know almost all the students, and your teachers are usually their parents, so they tend to be pretty chill.

I drum my fingers on my table as I try to remember if we have all the ingredients for a mushroom and chicken risotto. I wonder, too, if Madeline will come for dinner tonight. I liked that she regularly came for dinner on Fridays—that is, until she met her boyfriend in June. Maybe that’s just a coincidence; she can’t be going out with Trevor every Friday. Maybe she just doesn’t want to spend as much time with us anymore. I don’t know why it bothers me, though; twelve years between us meant we’ve never been as close as our parents wanted us to be.

With my phone gone, I check the clock on the wall. Thirty-five more minutes, and then I’ll be at lunch with my friends. I can stay focused that long, right? Honestly, it would be more efficient if I just took history online. My mom, however, thinks face-to-face classes add validity to my education.

After class, I sheepishly collect my phone from Mrs. Kurtz without reprimand, although the look she gives me is stern. I’ll be extra careful in the future. This was too embarrassing to let happen again—everyone’s eyes on me, the way I couldn’t stop blushing, and the admonishment from one of my favorite teachers.

I shoulder my messenger bag and weave through the church hallways to a quiet corner so I can spend virtual time with March before devoting my full attention to my friends who are physically here. I type in my phone’s passcode and open the chat app.

MARCH

Morning! I listened to Back to December

on the way to co-op. Your move.

MARCH

Who was this song about again

MARCH

Did you remember to listen to a

Fleetwood Mac song?

I smile. We’ve had a tradition of listening to a song from the other’s favorite artist every day for about a year now. Since I normally listen to Taylor Swift in the morning, too, it’s like a little connection despite the miles between us.

FEATHER

Excellent choice. Oh, and it’s about

Taylor Lautner. I listened to Sara as soon

as I woke up so I think I win, lol.

MARCH

Wouldn’t it be a tie? Neither

of us needed a reminder.

FEATHER

True, lol. How’s co-op?

MARCH

As okay as math class at 8 in the

morning can be, haha

MARCH

It would be better if you were here

FEATHER

You really know

how to flatter a girl

FEATHER

Are you still having trouble

making new friends?

MARCH

Nah not really. But the friend groups

formed a long time ago, ya know?

It’s hard to fit in when they

don’t need more friends.

I don’t necessarily agree. If someone’s the right fit, a friend group can always grow. I wouldn’t have one if the others hadn’t widened their circle for me a few years ago.

FEATHER

They’re missing out

MARCH

Thanks. I’ll keep trying.

Fellow homeschoolers should

get how hard it is to find

friends right?

FEATHER

You’d think so

FEATHER

I’m here if you want to chat. Just not

in class. Your messages this morning

may have gotten me in trouble…

MARCH

Ahahahahaha really???

FEATHER

I forgot to put my phone on silent.

MARCH

Nice

MARCH

Gotta get lunch

FEATHER

Same. Ttyl!

I head to the multipurpose room. My mom will be waiting there with the lunch I packed this morning, but it’s a nice enough day that my friends and I’ll go outside.

Stony Point Homeschool Academy requires that parents stay on the premises since we’re not an official school, so my mother can usually be found in the multipurpose room reading a book or talking with other parents. Today, she sits at a table with some of my friends’ moms. They’re chatting about college visits, a topic I’m tired of. Most of my applications are in for early admission, but the Stengers are just starting the process, since my best friend Ro is a junior.

My mom slides the lunch bag over to me without interrupting her conversation. I pull out a fork and my Tupperware containers before turning to find Ro right behind me. She pulls her hoodie from her bag and smiles at me.

Oh gosh, you’ll never believe what happened in government class. With a glance at my mother—who will not be happy with me if she overhears this story—I continue, I’ll tell you outside, if the guys aren’t there yet.

I wait while Ro grabs a sandwich from her family’s cooler, and then we head out. The two of us settle on stone benches around a patio table. I let the October sun seep through my long-sleeved blouse, while Ro positions herself in the shade. She needs sunscreen constantly, or her skin turns as red as a Campari tomato. I pop open my first Tupperware and examine the chicken sandwich with herb mayo I packed. The country bread isn’t soggy, to my delight. I’ll have to use this recipe again.

Okay, so what happened? Ro asks before cramming turkey sandwich into her mouth.

So someone’s phone went off in history class…

She gives me a look. Was it yours?

My expression must give me away. Ro almost chokes as she laughs at my misfortune. I wait until she’s recovered before saying, March messaged me. Three times in a row.

Is he okay?

Oh, yeah, he was just texting. I should’ve had my phone on silent, though.

Ro gives me a look. If it happened to anyone else, they wouldn’t care as much as you do.

I know, but… I shrug. I kind of like that the teachers here can count on me to follow the rules.

My best friend rolls her eyes, but she smiles to show she’s teasing. You’re such a kiss-up.

I playfully stick my tongue out at her. Some of the other high schoolers trickle into the courtyard. They sit at tables scattered around, and chatter and laughter fill the air. Lucy Kurtz, with her perfect makeup and bright smile, waves to us from where she’s settled with her group of friends, who make up Stony Point’s popular crowd—if such a thing is possible at a co-op.

Have you guys ever thought about meeting? Ro asks as she shoves strands of her sepia brown bob behind her ears.

Wait, what? Meet who? I ask as I take my glasses off to clean a smudge.

You and March. Have you ever thought about telling him who you are? It’s so weird you guys haven’t switched to different social media platforms since it’s been so long.

I mull over her question as I chew. I’ve thought about it, I tell her, but we’ve never discussed it. I feel like it would change so much if we knew what each other looked like and where we lived and each other’s real names. I couldn’t imagine meeting him and calling him ‘Joshua’ or ‘Connor.’ It would be too weird.

But you did think about it? she presses.

Yeah. When I had that almost-relationship with Jacob Griffith, I kinda wished he were March. Just because March was already one of my best friends, you know? So then I wanted to find out if I already, by some bizarre twist of fate, knew March.

Hmm, she muses.

But the chances of that happening are really slim, I continue. It was just fifteen-year-old me being a hopeless romantic.

Before she can say more, Joel Mitchell appears in the doorway with another of our friends, Dylan Yanovitch. Joel, towheaded and tan from years on a farm, is a senior, and Dylan, a junior, is wearing a sweatshirt representing his swim team. They’re followed by a couple of this year’s new students, Matthew Harwell and Owen Bell. Matthew is loud and opinionated, while Owen’s super shy—around us at least. I know he’s a senior like Joel and me, from another Southern state—you can hear it in his voice—but that’s pretty much it. Somehow, though, he gets along with outgoing Matthew.

Kylie Sung, the final friend in our circle, arrives right behind them. She flings herself down beside me and cheerily greets everyone. She doesn’t have any classes until after lunch this year, but she comes early to eat with us.

What do you have today? I ask her. Kylie is first-generation Korean American, and her mom makes tons of great traditional dishes when she has time between shifts at the hospital. I’ve schemed my way into many a dinner invitation, but I can never get the recipes out of Dr. Sung.

Just leftover spaghetti. Omma worked late, so I made dinner for the littles and me. She opens her thermos and digs a fork out of her bag.

One whiff is all it takes for me to tell the sauce is from a jar. I try not to wrinkle my nose, but Kylie knows me well enough to tell I’m unimpressed with her lackluster lunch. She gently shoves my shoulder and laughs, and I giggle, too.

Matthew, who’s on the bench across from me, between Owen and Joel, says, Hey, Food Queen, care to judge my lunch? When Matthew got here, he latched onto my passion for cooking and decided I was a perfect target for teasing. I don’t understand why; he doesn’t bug the others nearly as much, and surely we’re too old to pick on people we have crushes on.

I survey his plate. He has pizza, bought from the barebones lunch counter the co-op runs. I tried that pizza once and couldn’t finish even one slice. Besides, his comment doesn’t deserve my attention when he’s only saying it to get a rise out of me. So I roll my eyes before turning to Owen and trying to coax him out of his shell.

How were your classes this morning? I ask.

His voice is deep but mellow. Um, good, I guess. He pauses, and our eyes meet. I smile encouragingly, and he continues, I really like the speech and debate instructor here. And I’ve got algebra two with Matt.

I took speech last year! It was great; Phillipa’s dad is such a great teacher. We eat for a couple minutes and then I ask, So now that we’re halfway through the semester, how do you like Stony Point?

I like it all right so far. Y’all have more classes than I expected. It’s almost like a private school. He straightens his teal plaid shirt, which complements his warm brown skin nicely.

Yeah, but with fewer extracurriculars, Matthew butts in. At my last co-op, we had drama and language clubs, a vocal ensemble, and sports teams.

Sorry we’re not up to your standards, I say, but he seems to miss my biting tone.

I’m not saying I don’t like it here. I’d just rather join a drama club than a community theater group.

Needing a subject change, I turn to Ro. Our moms were talking about your college search when I went to grab my lunch.

Yeah. My parents want me at community college for a couple years, but I want to go away for all four. She sits up straighter. You know what would be fun? If we road-tripped to a couple schools during spring break!

Who’s the ‘we’? I ask.

You, me, and Kylie! I bet Mom would let me borrow her car for the week. I’m interested in a few schools out west, but most of them are closer, so we could drive to them easily.

Kylie is bouncing. "That would be fun. And if Audra has decided on a school by then, we can visit and see where she’ll be next year," she says.

Dylan, who was listening in, says, Are we invited too, or is this a girls-only trip?

My friends and I exchange looks. Well it’ll be harder to convince our parents if the boys want to come, Kylie says slowly.

Plus my car only seats four comfortably, says Ro. Her expression is neutral; she doesn’t seem as uneasy as Kylie and me about putting up with the guys for a week.

We could always take two cars. I don’t mind driving, Matthew interjects.

I roll my eyes again. Of course he wants to come with, and now that we’ve talked about the idea openly, there’s no way we could invite just Dylan and Joel, the guys we’ve been friends with the longest. We’d have to invite Matthew and Owen, too. I’ve known Joel since he ate Play-Doh in church nursery, and Dylan has been part of the friend circle for as long as I’ve been at Stony Point. I’m much more comfortable around them.

Ever the peacemaker, Joel says, How about y’all float the college road trip idea with your parents first, then ask if we can go with? We don’t want to intrude.

From the look on Matthew’s face, I’d say he disagrees, but I’m sure he’s also very used to getting what he wants. After all, his dad is a hotel mogul; Matthew is practically a walking advertisement for Spoiled. He wears brands that I’ve only seen on private school kids, and he’s always talking about his trips all over the world. Matthew is the rare wealthy homeschooler; most of us are solidly middle class. If the upper class wants their kids to get a different education than what public schools can provide, they can afford to send them to elite private schools. Matthew would fit right in there with his attitude and charm that he thinks will win over every girl.

I remember his first two weeks here. Kylie told us about this book series she’d found about fairies. She loved it so much and couldn’t stop talking about it, but I didn’t mind. Matthew apparently did because I saw him roll his eyes when she was describing the first book’s plot. That, plus his teasing about my passion, was the catalyst for deciding I didn’t want to be his friend.

I chat with Ro and Kylie and eat the perfection that is the rest of my lunch—besides my chicken sandwich, I packed red potato salad, a pear, and a homemade cookie loaded with chocolate chips and M&Ms. Lunch winds down, and I don’t get an opportunity to talk to Owen again. He’s too wrapped up in a quiet conversation with Matthew. About five minutes before the period is over, I drop my containers with my mom and head off to AP calculus (a.k.a. the hour of suffering).

Hey, Audra, says Matthew, sliding up beside me in the hall.

I mumble a greeting but immediately feel a pang of guilt. I was the new kid once, way back in the sixth grade. Even homeschooled middle schoolers can be brutal, so I know how hard it is to settle in at a new place.

I should make an effort at least, I tell myself, so I ask, What class are you headed to?

World history. He makes a face, so I don’t ask how he feels about it. What about you?

AP calculus.

They offer that here? He slides his