Short Story Intro

    Ah, texting. One of the best methods of procrastination. Deep down, Silver Silverstein was avoiding his biology project as hard as he could.
    It was 3:37 am, and this project that was given was due in roughly five hours. Naturally, even though two weeks were given to Silver and his fellow classmates to complete their biology project, Silver had only started it a mere four hours ago. But, then again, Silver had once heard something like, "Procrastination makes perfect!" but he didn't seem to realize that it was a joke.
    So, here he was, texting his crush about plans to go to the movies. This was ironic because if Silver got anything less than a B on his huge assignment, his strict mother would surely ground him for a couple weeks, at least.
    Or maybe he would already be grounded for sending $107 worth of texts in one night? Oh well, Mom won't find out about that until she gets the bill at the end of the month! I guess I've got a couple weeks before that happens, he thought.
    Silver looked down at his experiment results that were written on a college-ruled piece of lined paper, and brushed a strand of golden hair out of his face. He hadn't even touched the poster board in which he was assigned to draw or print diagrams on. Well, actually he did touch it, technically. But that was only him picking at the corners in anxiety when his text wasn't replied to for more than three minutes. Every time he reached out to touch it the blanket he was bundled up in fell off his shoulder. Since it was January, he still needed blankets even when the heater was on.
    The girl Silver was talking to was his best friend. Not only that, but he had gotten so attached to her that he had started to believe he was in love with her. What's with adults saying that us kids don't know what love is? That's ridiculous, he'd tell himself when his mom's quotes about his naivety came to mind.
    Her name was Fiama, which was Italian for "flame." Fiama was actually born in Italy, and had spent most of her life there until early November. She was actually very good at speaking English because if her interest in linguistics. But if she loved anything, it was art.
    Fiama was always going on about something artistic, whether it was an amazing book she had read recently, or her visit to the Louvre where she saw the Mona Lisa when she was eleven. She also enjoyed writing and drawing, herself, and although she didn't recognize her talent, she was quite endowed. At least in Silver's opinion.
    This was one of the things that made Silver so interested in Fiama. But, best of all, Silver could imagine her being romantic. I can hardly picture an artist who isn't romantic, too! Silver thought during his day dreams.
    Silver knew that looks didn't really matter, but he thought Fiama was way prettier than all of the other high school girls, with their short shorts and too much make-up. Silver didn't like those kind of girls anyway because they reminded him of his big sister.
    Finally, Silver's phone vibrated, indicating that he had gotten a text!
    "I cannot go this coming Saturday, but perhaps the weekend afterward?" it said. Silver thought it was funny how formally Fiama talked because she wasn't very familiar with English slang.
    "Ok, I'll...see...if...that...will work," he said aloud as he typed his response. "Crap! Stupid phone, why do you have a broken "w" button?" The text read: "ok i'll seee if thst wwwill wwwork." He edited his text and sent it. "Gosh, even Fiama is faster at typing than me and English is her second language..." Silver mumbled frustratedly at his phone.
    Silver flinched when he heard shuffling of his mom's slippers coming in the dinning room where he was stationed.
    She put her hands on her hips and said wearily, "Silver, you're still doing your project?" She sighed in annoyance, "Even if you do manage to finish it, you won't get enough sleep in order to present it!" She walked over to him to see how much progress he had completed, only to see the completely blank poster board and his messy writing filling half of his lined paper. "You haven't even started your poster yet??"
    "N-no," was Silver's sheepish reply. "I'm doing my results right now, see?" He showed his mom the paper.
    "Young man, if you don't finish this by the time the bus comes in the morning, you're going to grounded, ok? I'm sick of you skipping assignments and procrastinating on big projects!"
    Silver tuned out the rest of his mom's little rant. He'd heard it many times before, and he was too tired to care anyway.
    His mom eyed Silver when she was done talking, and noticed his phone is his hand. "Go put your phone in your room. I can see that you've been texting." She tapped her foot, "You don't have time for distractions."
                                                     ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
    It's not easy being shy. Silver knew that all to well. All of his life he had been timid and self-conscious. Not only that, but the poor kid had anxiety problems. Whenever an awkward situation popped up, his heart raced and he found it hard to breathe.
    So when Silver heard his name being called the next morning for his biology presentation, his stomach lurched.
    He got up from his desk while gathering his speech and his poster. He gulped as he passed the other 37 students. Hopefully they wouldn't pay too much attention in case he messed up. As he slowly got closer to the front of his classroom, his heart was already pounding as he anticipated his embarrassing stuttering.
    Even if Silver practiced his speech at home, in front of so many people it would come out as half nonsense. He would search for the right words, which he would forget were right in front of him the whole time.
    Silver placed his diagram on the edge of the white board which was meant for holding dry-erase markers. He took a few deep breathes like he was told to do when in stress.
    "For my project I stud— observed how an acidic pH can slow down the process of um..." Silver heard a group of friends giggling in the back of the class and he panicked a bit. He didn't know that they were watching a YouTube video on one of there phones; he imagined that they were laughing at him.
    Silver was very different from most boys. He tried his best in school, he didn't talk to very many people, and most of all, he was unconfident. Most guys would always joke around in class with their other friends. They all had girlfriends, and most of them were probably not virgins. Silver didn't envy that lifestyle, but those boys would pick on him every once in a while. They didn't mean any harm, though.
    But, that didn't really matter. Back in elementary school, kids did mean what they said, even it was stupid and often made no sense. After, "You look like a girl," "You're annoying!" "You stink at baseball," and "Boys don't cry," Silver became even more paranoid and distant from school society. Sometimes he remembered when he was very little, and was actually outgoing and talkative. Those days were forever lost, though.
    "Silver?" his teacher called. He snapped out of his daze and continued his presentation.