Chapter 1

I was thinking. Thinking about what I could write. Mr. Matthews had given us an assignment to write a poem about how we wanted to be remembered in history. I didn't know where to start. I knew Riley wouldn't have any trouble with it, considering her continuation of her great grandmother's poem, 'The Girl with the Long Blonde Hair'. I also knew that Maya would probably leave it until the last minute saying that she didn't want to be part of history and end up writing something beautiful. I think Lucas will probably have the same amount of trouble as me. But, I'm pretty sure he'll end up writing something good, too.

I sighed, I had started to write about becoming dictator. Then I realized that a poem shouldn't be a long speech about taking over the world. I didn't really know what to do, so I decided to go over to Maya's. Sometimes, I go over there and just watch her draw for hours. She pleaded me not to tell anyone, not even Riley or Lucas, because people would think we were going out. Which, she has made very clear, we are not.

I left the house, walking to the nearby subway station. I sat down on a nearby bench. Sighing, I picked up the notebook from beside me, still blank, as it had been since I erased what had been my dictator poem two hours ago. Soon enough, the train arrived and so, I stood up from the bench and got on board. I'm pretty sure Maya likes me, almost everything points toward it. She just doesn't want to admit it because having a crush on a nerd would ruin her rebellious, cool reputation. Riley told me once, that when I was hiding because Billy Ross said I was a nothing, Maya had said that she 'wanted her Farkle back'. If that doesn't sound like a crush, I don't know what does, plus, it gave me a tingly feeling in my heart.

A few train stops later, the subway arrived at the station closest to Maya's apartment building. I got off the train and went up the stairs to the busy New York streets above. I inhaled the cool misty air and began to walk toward the building. It was about two blocks down, and I could see it from the entrance to the subway station. There was a slight fog and the sky was overcast. But, even though the weather wasn't the best, I could still see the brick walls of the building. As I walked, I thought about what Maya might be doing. Probably drawing, knowing her. I climbed up the fire escape to her window. I was right, she was sitting on her bed with a sketch pad on her lap. I gently knocked at the window, careful not to startle her. She turned to the window and smiled at me before putting the sketch pad down on the bed and opening the window.

"Hi," she said, backing up, allowing me to crawl inside.

"Hey," I replied, straightening my turtleneck. I watched as Maya went back over to the bed, sat back down and picked up her sketch pad again. She looked up and motioned for me to come over. I went over and sat down beside her, looking at what she had drawn. It looked like it was nearly finished. There was a fairly large, white house with green shutters in the background, with evergreen trees on both sides. There were children playing near the house. Closer to the front of the picture were an older version of Maya, around twenty, and she was hugging an unidentifiable man who was back on, that I assumed was Maya's husband.

"What is this beautiful masterpiece?" I asked, awestruck.

"Mr. Matthews said to write a poem about how we wanted to be remembered in history," she started. "It doesn't matter to me if I'm remembered in history or not. I just want to not be poor and to have a husband that won't leave me. It inspired me to draw this, because, I'm not much of a poet."

"It's beautiful," I said.

"Thank you," she replied. Then, her inspiration inspired me.