"Forbidden Fruit" - a novel by Erika (celinerific)

[celinerific]

Hi everyone! I have recently begun the project of writing my very first fiction novel! I have only begun the first chapter as I will post it here as my very first post!

 

It is a story about a student who is in love with her teacher (who is also a female), but cannot express her love or act on her feelings because of their student-teacher relationship. I takes readers on a journey through the eyes of the main character named Elisa through triumph and the sorrows of a love so deep, yet so complex and forbidden.

 

Forbidden Fruit: Chapter 1

 

I opened my eyes and woke up to the sun shining brightly, seeping through the creases of the beige curtains, bouncing off the deep purple walls of my room. I lay there for a moment, embracing the new day. A gentle breeze flows through the window as birds sing their morning glory tunes of happiness. I look at the round silver clock hanging on the wall as the hands reach 7:30 A.M.. It’s the first day of the new school year. It’s been four years since I first entered high school and my last year too. On a side note, there are a few things that happen when you become a senior student in high school:

 

1. You will turn eighteen at some point.

2. You will get a driver’s license and scare the s*** out of your parents.

3. You walk around furrow-browed all the time, worried about university and college and possibly what on earth you’re going to do with the rest of you life.

4. Things will happen when you least expect it.

5. You will learn that high school is bittersweet.

 

As the excitement of the new school year creeps up on me, I roll out of bed and start making my way to the bathroom. I look in the mirror and gawk at my groggy morning look. My thirty year-old sister trudges in looking just as crappy.

“Morning. You look hideous,” she says.

“Thanks. Same to you,” I reply back with the same sarcastic humor we always use.

I quickly give my hair a brush and look back at the mirror. My shoulder-length, straight, dark brown hair is much nicer on my head when it doesn’t look like a nuclear explosion. I brush my teeth, wash my face, and head back to my room to get dressed. As I draw the curtains, sunlight comes pouring into the room. I turn over to my closet and I pull out a pair of white Capri’s jeans and a blue and white pinstripe dress shirt. I slip into my outfit, put on my makeup, pack my bag and start heading for the kitchen. As I walk down the hallway, I smell the aroma of an omelet and fresh bread toasting. I walk into the kitchen and my mom is cooking away at the stove.

“Good morning Elisa!” she says cheerily.

“Morning, mom.”

I put down my bag and take a seat at the round kitchen table.

“So, are you ready for your first day of your grade twelve year?” mom asks.

“Yeah, I’m actually quite excited. I think I chose some pretty good courses this year. I just hope that my teachers don’t ruin it for me though,” I reply with a bit of annoyance.

“Well, just do your best and I’m sure everything will work out fine!” She picks up the frying pan and walks over to me. I back up a little on my chair, afraid of being attacked by the scorching hot skillet. She slaps the omelet onto my plate, reaches over for the toast and slaps that on my plate too.

“There. Now eat you little vegetablarian, or you’ll be late,” my mom says to me with a smirk.

 

I’m a vegetarian by choice and it’s been about two years now since I claimed my new label. At first it was a dietary choice so that I could get more toned and lose a bit of weight, but about a year after I started, I saw this horrible movie about animal slaughter and I vowed never to eat meat ever again. I’ve gotten used to the new eating lifestyle and have been quite successful ever since. My parents get agitated sometimes though because they always have to make a separate dish for me or go to places that have vegetarian options. But, they’ve gotten used to it… I think.

 

While I’m eating, I glance up at the clock and notice it was 8:20 A.M. already. I walk to school every morning and walk home every afternoon as a form of exercise – I’m all about staying healthy and staying in shape. Class starts at 8:45 A.M., so if I want to make it on time, I’d better get going. I finish up my last bite of breakfast, and down my soymilk for my lactose-intolerant belly. I grab my bag, plug in my iPod, throw on my Coach sneakers and sunglasses and headed for the door.

“Bye mom!” I bellow into the kitchen.

“Bye! Have fun!” She bellows back in return.

 

I get to school and there is a rush of people walking and running into the building. My school is an old school – the oldest in the city in fact. It’s a great school academically… but socially, I think it needs some work. We live in an area of Toronto, Canada where immigrants are coming in by the truckload from every which way you look, and most of them happen to be Asian. Being Asian myself, I’m not a huge fan of the massive immigration status and it gets on my nerves sometimes. I wasn’t born into an Asian environment (except for my family, of course). I was born in up north Canada - in the Yukon where Asians were very much a minority – probably less than a percentage of the total population. In the Yukon, everywhere you turned, it was just filled with Caucasians, more Caucasians, and then the occasional Native Canadian. Deep down inside, I’m really just a little white girl.

 

I walk into the school and I immediately feel the unpleasant hot air rushing over my body and that stuffy, murky smell that no one likes. Being the oldest secondary school in Toronto had its perks, but it also means there’s no air conditioning, and that’s why the beginning and end of every school year is a sweat bath everywhere you go. I walk down the main hallway and as I start to pull my hair up into a ponytail in an attempt to stay cool in our sauna of a school, I see my friends Karina, Mia, and Kathy. We haven’t seen each other all summer. Karina landed a job as a tutor in British Columbia for an eight year-old boy of some big shot business guy who offered her big bucks for the job. Karina may not be the smartest chick out there, but she has so much patience for kids and just really has got all her s*** together. Mia went down to her cousin’s beach house in Florida for most of the summer and got back about a week ago. She’s always so energetic and bubbly - I can’t even keep up with her sometimes despite my very own zest for life. And then there’s Kathy who never really contacted me much over the summer. We say we’re close friends, but I honestly don’t see it. I remember I got her a job at a place I worked at one time and she never thanked me or anything, but instead told me how time-consuming it was and how much she hated it. Talk about appreciation.

 

“So Elisa, what’d you do over the summer?” Mia asks in her bubbly, high-pitched voice. “Did you find a new girlfriend yet?”

“I wish,” I replied. “It’s harder than it looks. When you’re not old enough to go to a lezzie bar, your resources are so limited. It sucks! I’d love to get me some pussy.”

“Holey s***, Elisa. Too much information!” Karina replied jokingly.

Karina is straight, so are Mia and Kathy. It can sometimes get a little awkward when I’m with them. They usually don’t understand the things I go through and can never relate to a lot of the things I’m truly interested in. It’s hard, but they’re my friends. They have accepted me for who I am and they support me in everything. That’s all that matters.

 

After a bit of catching up and deciding where to meet for lunch, we dispersed to our first period classes – mine was “Music & Computers” class. I love music. Music is my life. I sing, I play, I compose… I love it. Throughout the years that I’ve been in high school, I’ve been very heavily involved in the music program, including taking part in multiple ensembles such as the Orchestra playing the violin, and being part of several of the choirs singing in the Alto section. I have developed such a tight-knit musical family with some friends in music and with the music teachers themselves. It’s a whole different world down in the Music Department. It’s my home away from home. I’ve also been the Webmaster for the Music Council for several years now. In addition to my love for music, design is another passion of mine. I do graphic designs, web designs, all sorts of stuff. It fascinates me how much effect a single image can have on a person when it has been made with care. It’s amazing.

 

I get to first period and I take my seat next to one of the many iMacs in the room. I rummage through my bag and pull out my schedule. I look down the column to see what other classes I have today. Law… Economics… Business… I move my eyes back to the Business block. It read: Ms. Nickolas, room 342. I’ve never taken business before in my life. Throughout the past few years, I’ve started a little freelancing design business of my own, so I thought it might be a good idea to get some fundamental management and business skills to apply towards it. I guess I’ll just have to see what’s in store for me. I’ll either love it, won’t give a crap, or hate the s*** out of it.

A few hours go by and finally the clock hits 11:30 A.M. signaling the end of the first half of the day. While still half asleep from Law class, I make my way into the hallway.

“Elisa! Come on!”

I look up and I see Mia waving at me with a big smile on her face. My eyes light up and I walk over and link my porcelain-coloured arm with her chocolate-coloured arm.

“Hey! It’s a Twinkie!” I exclaim with a giggle.

“It don’t look like no Twinkie to me!” Mia replies laughing.

“So where we off to?” I ask. Karina and Kathy turn around and both reply at the same time.

“Starbucks.”

“You read my miiinnd!” I reply back excitedly. I love Starbucks. I have officially been labeled a Starbucks Freakoid. I hold that title very proudly.

We make our way over to the nearest Starbucks and I get my usual – a thai wrap and an iced grande half sweet soy green tea latte. No one ever understands me when I say it the first time around, so I end up saying it again. Serves me right for being a Starbucks Freakoid.

 

After lunch, I start making my way to Business class. Ms. Nickolas – I think that’s Italian, or Greek or something, I say to myself. I suddenly find myself picturing a big Italian woman with a heavy accent and heavy blue eye shadow and pasty blush talking to me about hierarchy charts and divisions of labour. I shudder a little and giggle to myself. I walk into the classroom and it was full of people bustling everywhere. I choose a desk, put down my stuff and look up at the blackboard where it says in big letters, GRAB A NAMETAG AND WRITE YOUR NAME. I do just as the board says. I walk up to the front of the room, stumbling over a few bags that people just decided to leave on the floor, take one of those stick-on nametags and start to write my name. Just then, I hear heels clicking in the hallway. I’m a perfectionist and therefore a slow writer and I’m trying to hurry it up without making my name look like crap. The clicking has gotten closer and I hear them stop at the door. I glance up quickly to see who it is. All I see is a woman holding a binder and a few books. The teacher, I say to myself and quickly return my gaze back down to finish my nametag. I was just about to finish the A in my name, when someone puts down a binder and a few books on the table in front of me. I thought, how rude… at least let me finish… Jesus. About a second later, I realize I’m occupying the teacher’s desk. I look up and there she was in all her glory. She certainly isn’t big, certainly not Italian, and her makeup is actually very nice and simple. She has a very fit physique, a bit taller than me, 5”5 maybe (I’m about 5”3). She has long wavy dark brown hair, brown eyes, and olive-coloured skin. She is wearing a pair of fitted dark wash jeans with a teal-coloured top and a slick pair of black pumps. She might as well be a Greek goddess. I forced myself to stop staring and battled the urge to make eye contact in fear that I’d somehow get hypnotized, even though I don’t believe in hypnotism...

“Sorry. I’ll just…” I start to collect my items to head back to my desk.

“Oh no, don’t worry about it! Go ahead and finish,” she says in an upbeat tone.

 

I smile at her and quickly finish writing my nametag. I click the cap back onto the black permanent marker, peel the nametag and stick it on my shirt.

 

“Thank you,” I say as I hand the marker back to her and walk back to my desk to sit down.

Everyone was walking around everywhere – most were confused, some overly excited. Over all the noise, I heard the teacher’s voice trying to get everyone’s attention.

 

“Everyone please settle down!” The whole room silences within a matter of seconds and I swear you can literally hear a pin drop.

“Hello everyone! I hope you all had a great summer! I see a lot of familiar faces here and some new ones too!” She glances over at me and I feel a sudden jolt in my stomach. What the hell was that?

“How many of you have never taken a business class before?” she asks and my hand flies up. I look around and notice that my hand is the only hand up. I slowly lower it and I glance back up at the teacher. She attempts to quickly dismiss the question, feeling bad for having asked it.

“That’s okay!” she says to me. “I’m sure you’ll do fine! Don’t worry! But for those of you who don’t know me,” she continues. “I’m Ms. Nickolas. Most students call me Ms. N, so whichever one works best for you! Today, I’m hoping to just get to know all of you, so we’re going to do a few activities to just mingle around.”

She starts explaining the game to us and within minutes, the class starts to move around, chatting with one another. I start talking to this guy named Gerrard and he’s very nice, but my eyes and attention keeps drifting over to Ms. N. After a few minutes, I realize Gerrard has stopped talking. He looks at me a little concerned.

 

“Are you okay, Elisa?” he asks sincerely.

“I’m fine! Just not quite back in the school mode yet,” I reply with a nervous laughter.

“Oh yeah, I totally get what you mean,” he says. “All I can think of is sleeping in. I think it’ll take me awhile to get back into the school mode!”

“I honestly wish this year would go by faster. I know it’s only the first day, but you know, I think I’m ready to move on from high school,” I reply with a nod.

“I know what you mean.”

After talking to Gerrard, I mingled with other classmates for a while. Some of them were from Europe, some were from the United States, and others were a mix of many cultures. Without noticing, 3 o’clock hit, the bell rings and it is time to go home. I head over back to my desk to gather up my belongings. By the time I grab my bag, everyone had already left and I’m the last one there. I look up and see Ms. N erasing the board, then moving over to her own desk to pick up her items.

“Sorry I put you on the spot,” Ms. N said without looking up.

My hands freeze at the sound of her voice ringing through the air.

“Don’t worry about it. Not anything I haven’t experienced before!” I said with a laugh.

Ms. N moves her gaze up, her big brown eyes sinking into me like a rock thrown in quicksand.

“But honestly, don’t worry about it. If you’re willing to try and do your work, I’m certain you’ll do great in this class,” she reassures me. She gathers her belongings and starts to leave. Knowing she’ll be locking the door, I quickly collect my bag and books and follow right behind her. The sweet floral smell of her hair and light perfume trail behind her and sweeps onto my face as we walk. Suddenly, she stops and turns around to face me at the door and I nearly collide with her being mesmerized by her graceful movements and heavenly scent.

“Sorry!” she says. “It’s Elisa, right?”

“Me? Yes, that is my name,” I reply with a short giggle.

“Great. I’m looking forward to having you in my class,” she smiles and then continues to walk out the door and down the hallway. “See you next class, Elisa.”

“Bye Ms. N!”

I walk towards my locker and find Mia packing up her bag.

“Hey Mia!” I wave at her vigorously and she runs over to give me a hug.

“Elisa! How was your first day of classes?”

“It was great. I think I’m already starting to love business. There’s like an atmosphere that just feels so right. But I have a question… do you know who Ms. Nickolas is?”

“Yeah, of course. I had her for Marketing last year, she’s awesome. I LOVED Marketing. I still remember the marketing plan we spent about half the year making. We rocked it in the end though.”

“That’s awesome,” I reply. “I had no idea she even existed until now. She seems pretty cool.”

“She is, you’ll love her. I think it was a great idea to take the course, especially for your business.”

“Yeah, I’m excited to apply some new skills and techniques and really start to get it going!”

“Anyway,” Mia sighs. “I better get going now, my mom is probably waiting for me outside.”

“Alrighties then, I’ll see you tomorrow!” I give her and quick hug and we part ways.

While walking home, I take the time to look around at the beauty of the earth. The sky is blue and the weather is warm. I take a deep breath and let it out. Birds are chirping and the wind gently blows its way around. I get home and unlock the door to find mom sitting in front of the TV furiously scribbling down something on paper.

 

“Hi mom,” I said with a curious expression.

“Hi sweetheart, how was school?” she replies without glancing over.

“It was great. I like all my teachers so far, so I guess we’re off to a good start!” I walk over and peer at her piece of paper to see what it is she’s scribbling.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“It’s a new soup recipe. I think I might make it tonight.”

“Oh? What kind of soup is it?”

“It’s a Japanese blend with a bunch of things in it that are supposedly very good for you!”

 

Mom is always into making soups and other herbal concoctions that will help your blood flow better, give your lungs more capacity, increase muscle ability, and a bunch of other similar things that are categorized to be a good-for-you food. Sometimes her concoctions both look and taste strange. Sometimes they look strange but actually taste quite good. I guess it really depends on what kind of weird things she throws in it. I just hope she doesn’t tell me what’s in it. Ever.

“Where’s Leisha?” I ask mom.

“Who?” she responds dumbly, then comes to her senses. “Oh! You mean your sister. I think she went out to the park with the kids. They’ll be back soon though.”

Leisha’s my older sister. Her and her husband came to Canada from Japan where her husband is originally from and where she held a teaching job for about seven years. They came here to have their kids – it’s all about having the Canadian citizenship and whatnot, because being Canadian is the best thing ever! She has a daughter who’s three years-old named Mieko, and a son who’s almost one named Katsu. They’re the cutest things ever, but a handful at the same time!

 

I head into the kitchen and make myself what I call my Everything Smoothie, which consists of a lot of vegetables and a lot of fruits, some yogurt and a few scoops of sweetened tofu. Again, this is relating back to my healthy lifestyle bit. It sounds disgusting, kind of looks disgusting, but to me, it tastes absolutely delicious! In fact, I have it every day. After filling myself with all that liquid goodness, I head to my room, but find it hard to relax. I don’t have any assignments or even any homework. I lay down on my bed and stare up at the blank white ceiling. I spend the rest of the evening trying to free my mind. Usually when I feel stressed out or uneasy, I listen to music, especially smooth jazz and my beloved Celine Dion. God, where do I begin with Celine Dion? Call me crazy, but she has been the most inspirational person and has made the biggest impact on my life. Ever since I was about eleven years old, this woman has inspired me to be better, live better, and do better. I’ll admit I used to be a pain-in-the-#ss brat. I’m the youngest of four children – I’ve got my oldest sister Alice who’s a thirty-five year old Financial Representative at TD Canada and lives about an hour north of Toronto with her husband and two kids and another one on the way. Then there’s my second sister Leisha who’s thirty-three years old currently living with my parents and I. And then there’s my brother Daniel who’s twenty-nine years old, very successful in the business world and is rocking it out in an amazing condo in the heart of downtown Toronto. And finally, last but not least, there’s me, the accident of the family – seventeen years old and the only child left living with and off of my parents. I was spoiled rotten. I always got the things I wanted and I went wherever my parents went, whether it be to the other side of the globe, or to our next door neighbour’s house. This went on for years. That is until I discovered Mademoiselle Celine Dion.

 

It all started when I did a few research projects during elementary school and surprisingly, I found her very interesting. Over time, I started to discover more and more of and about her music and researched about her more and I just fell head over heals in love with the woman. When her One Heart album came out, I bought it on impulse for no reason and couldn’t stop listening to it. Today, I have a never-ending collection of her stuff and I’m often indentified as The Celine Dion Fan, but I love it and I love her. Her voice is one of the most beautiful, most amazing, most versatile, and the purest instrument I have ever heard. She has the biggest heart, is so down-to-earth, and has such an amazing zest for life. She cares for others and believes that the only failure in life is not knowing how to be happy. I couldn’t have asked for a better role model. A lot of people make fun of her and me for being a fan, but I wear my fanaticism on my sleeve. She helped to mould the person I aspire to be today. I don’t care what others think. I am woman! Hear me roar! ROAR!

 

As the evening slowly ticks away, my sister Leisha comes into my room after finally getting the kids to go to sleep. She sits down facing me at the end of my bed as I lean against the wall at the head of it. The soft glow of the bedside lamp spills over the room, creating a warm atmosphere. Leisha crosses her legs, grabs a pillow, and gets comfy.

“How was your first day?” she asks.

“Not bad. Nothing unusual,” I reply without moving my gaze away from my laptop’s screen.

“I don’t believe you. Come on. Spill the beans!”

“Nothing happened. It was just a normal first day of school. I met some of my teachers and got introduced to a few of my classes, that’s all.”

“I still don’t believe you,” she says, and then pauses for a moment. She slaps my leg playfully and finally says, “Elisa! Can you look at me for at like two seconds? I know something’s up.”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. It’s just a strange little feeling I’ve been having throughout the day.”

“What kind of feeling? Are you feeling sick? Did you finally find some hot chick to hit on?”

“I wouldn’t really put it that way,” I say with a subtle smile. I close my laptop and set it aside. I take a deep breath and I look at Leisha. “It’s probably nothing, but I met my business teacher today.”

“Is she a b****?” she cuts in.

“No!” I squeal with shock. “She’s actually very nice,” I continue with a more relaxed tone. “She seems like she has a great personality. I’m looking forward to being in her class.”

“Ooh! Well, that’s good. It’s always nice to have teachers you like. Makes the class more bearable. And you have a weird feeling about this beaucaauusse…” she stares me straight in the face waiting for an answer. My gaze focuses on a framed portrait on the wall behind her and I just stare at it for a few seconds, then I look back at her.

“I guess, it’s nothing. It’s probably just nerves on the first day of school. I mean, I’m a senior now! Can you believe it?” I answer with a nervous laughter.

Leisha looks at me for a moment.

“You’re weird,” she laughs. “I’m going to bed.” She gets up and starts for the door. As her hand reaches for the knob, she turns back and looks at me again.

“Just don’t do anything stupid. Keep your priorities straight, okay?”

“Thanks,” I smile at her as she walks out and closes the door gently behind her with a click.

 

I lay in bed again, staring up at the ceiling, but this time thoughts begin to dance around in my mind. I wonder what school is going to be like this year. I wonder what things I’ll accomplish, what goals I’ll achieve, and who I’ll meet. As thoughts continue to swirl around in my head like a whirlpool, the cloak of night begins to fall upon me as I begin to drift off into a slumber filled with dreams that I have yet to find ways to explain.

 

 

 

 

Edited August 5, 2010 at 02:51 AM by celinerific

[SensationalCeline]

I love this. Are you going to post more chapters?

[celinerific]

For sure! This is just what I've done so far. But there will be more to come. So stay tuned!

[Terre]

Nice job! Thanks for sharing!

[disadiva]

Very Good Erica' Nice job.