YA Gets Real: But School

Lindi sank into the seat next to Chris with a huff. She glanced over at him, her blue eyes blazing as she thought about the days ahead. Knowing she had to tell Chris the bad news broke her heart almost as much has having to repeat the same cycle over and over again.

Every semester since they had started high school, Chris and Lindi had saved the world. No one noticed, or if they did, no one cared. First, it had been the wild bats that could transform into hybrid invisible monsters. Second, the wild, mutant lizards that came out of the sewer system. Third, the talking rabbits who controlled every student's mind in the school.

Lindi was forced into this life because she knew Chris, but Chris fell into this because he drank some sea monkey water on a dare when he was nine. For whatever reason, those sea monkeys changed his body from the inside out, giving him the ability to heal rapidly, breathe underwater, and turn microscopic. Maybe they had been radioactive, maybe it was some chemical experiment, but whatever the reason, Chris was superhuman now.

"I've been doing some research," Lindi started.

"No. No research." Chris looked at her, eyes half-lidded and his irises almost black. "We can't save the world again, Lindi. I need to focus on school."

"I know, but this is really important. This Friday, there's going to be Medusa-like snakes called Lo--"

Chris slammed his head down on the desk. One of his pencils rattled, falling off the desk onto the floor. A few students turned their heads, but this kind of behavior was normal for the two weird kids. Chris's voice came out muffled from the wood. "I can't do this Friday."

"Can't do this Friday?! The supernatural isn't going to wait for a convenient time."

"I have a swimming meet, and Coach said if I miss one more, I'm off the team for good." He rolled his head to the side so he could look up at Lindi. His cheek was squished against the desk. "I can't lose swimming. It's the only thing that will get me into college."

"If you don't miss it, then--"

"Not to mention the report we have due for Mrs. Welsher's class." He lifted his head and glared at Lindi. "There is absolutely no way I can save the world this Friday. My personal future depends on it."

Lindi stood up, grabbing the backpack that she had just put down and began to storm out of the classroom. Her wedges slapped against the ground.

Chris caught up to her in a matter of seconds, snagging her arm. "Where are you going?"

She turned, glaring at him with an icy look that could cut glass. Her short bleached hair hung messily around her ears. "I'm going to find someone help me save the world. If you aren't going to, I'm sure there's some other powerful person who will. Besides, none of have a future if these snakes get loose."

Dropping her arm, Chris let out a defeated sigh. "What time are the evil snakes from wherever supposed to get here?"

Lindi straightened her back. "Around nine at Jonesbury Park, through a rift between our world and theirs." A small smile curled her lips, despite her best efforts to keep it at bay.

"My meet should be over by 9. I'll get there as soon as I can. Just ... Do your thing and keep them busy for me?" Chris's eyes softened.

Lindi grabbed his hand with hers. Their hands were the perfect size, his ever so slightly bigger. They nestled together like they were made for each other. "You got it. And on Sunday, we can sit down to write that paper together."

"Why Sunday?"

"Because you're going to spend Saturday healing and being all macho about how you just saved the world, again."

Chris frowned, but it was erased the second Lindi's lips touched his cheek. She gave him a small kiss and floated back to her seat, satisfied that Chris had agreed to save the world again. Now if only the rifts would stop appearing, maybe they could have a normal high school experience.

---

Thanks for reading the parody series YA Gets Real. If you enjoy supernatural stories, consider some of the following titles. Patrick Ness's The Rest of Us Just Live Here plays with this trope a lot, and I absolutely adore the book, so pick it up. All the cover images link to Amazon.

YA Gets Real: New Girl

Harvey smirked, giving me a slick sideways glance with his dark brown, almond-shaped eyes. He slid his chair a little closer to me. We were in our homeroom in the science lab. I was surprised when he sat down next to me, but became even more surprised when he kept staring.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi?"

"What's your name?"

I swear my jaw dropped to the floor. Over the summer, I had gotten laser eye surgery, finally ridding myself of the thick bottle glasses that had framed my face since before first grade. But I was still the same old me. Same red braid off to one side, same crystal eyes, same fair skin.

"Anna? You know, the girl you've been in school with since we were six?" I inched my chair away from him, and it grated against the tiles.

He narrowed his eyes, looking me up and down with keen interest. It practically made my skin run out of the room without me. "Anna ..." Harvey leaned back in his chair, rocking on two legs for a second as he switched his eyes to the ceiling. "Cunningham?" The chair slammed back down on the ground as he leaned onto the lab table.

"Harvey, jeez, yeah." I swallowed. My fingers curled around my bag, ready to run or hit him with it depending on whatever he said next.

"Huh." His eyebrows furrowed. Even when he looked confused, he was still fairly attractive. I mean, he was Harvey Orion, pretty much the pinnacle of the stars coming down and making a guy in their dream image. "You look ... different."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't have glasses anymore."

"Oh." He paused, frowning. "That must be it. So anyway, you're, like, really hot, Anna."

I continued staring at him with an arched eyebrow, not sure if that warranted a response. Surely he tried harder to date Sandra and Katrina, right? They were gorgeous. It had to have taken more of an effort than "you're, like, really hot."

"We should go on a date or whatever. You know?"

"No, I don't know." I grabbed my bag and stood up. "We've gone eleven years of our lives not speaking to each other. Why don't we make it the full twelve. Okay?" I turned to leave, but he snagged my arm.

"Anna, don't be like that. Just because I didn't recognize you doesn't mean-"

"It means everything, Harvey. I was invisible to you just because of my glasses." I yanked my hand back and shook it like his were hot coals. "I would never date someone as shallow as that." I went to the front of the room and slid into another seat.

Just as I did, Rebecca whispered a little too loudly to her neighbor, "What's the new girl's problem?"

I banged my forehead against the desk. This was going to be a long start to senior year.

- - -

YA Gets Real is a parody young adult flash fiction series where my main characters experience typical tropes that you can find in Young Adult Literature. I love Young Adult, but I use this series to turn the typical encounter on its head. If you like YA Gets Real, consider sharing it with someone you know would get a kick out of it. Check out all the past stories here.

Book Reading: Hipstopia

I have a feeling that reading out loud is something that you get better at with practice. For the first time ever, I can be seen reading Hipstopia, my YA dystopian satire about hipsters taking over Los Angeles.

I was definitely a bit nervous, as this hasn't been something I've even attempted in the past. But I'm fairly happy with my first attempt. Enjoy! And happy reading!

YA Gets Real: Wizard School

The rolling hills fly past us as we head down the lush landscape and into a deep valley. I'm adoring the drive, and my mind rushes with the ideas of how the next four years will play out. To think, my parents had been keeping this a secret my whole life.

"We wanted you to grow up as a normal girl," Mom said.

"That meant keeping your past a secret from you." My dad nodded.

I grin as I look up at the clear blue sky. All of those things I read about were true. The fantasy books they gifted me as presents were hints, and I never knew how real they were until my parents confessed everything a few days ago. They had signed me up for my first year at Harringtons, a school for girls who are training in the magical arts. They had handed me a brochure which featured this great stone building, and it looked magical.

We turn onto a long drive and come to wrought iron gates. My dad presses the small red button, and the intercom comes on. A lady on the other side greets us cheerfully, and the gates swing open. Our car carries us all the way up the gravel path to the steps heading into the main gorgeous building on campus.

I step out of the car with my backpack on my shoulder and slam the door shut behind me. I take in the large steeples, the antique window frames, and warm stone of the structure. The building looms over us, but feels welcoming and cozy just the same.

My mom helps me get my two bags out of the trunk and gives me a wide smile. Something about it feels strange though, because normally her eyes light up. Maybe she's sad about me going away to school. "Honey, I want you to know, we love you." She pulls me into a hug.

My dad presses his hand on my shoulder, which is about as affectionate as he'll get these days. "Do you want help inside?"

A woman with a clipboard comes out from inside Harringtons. She has a pen tucked behind her ear, and her hair is pulled taut away from her face. "You must be Delilah."

Both of my parents back away from me, as if this woman is going to burst into flames. Perhaps she can.

"We'll be seeing you on holiday." My dad slides into the car, and my mom hesitates with her hand around the handle.

"I have in my paperwork that your parents told you about Harringtons."

I turn back to the woman and nod, eager.

The lady glances at my mom and gives her tight-lipped smile. The engine of the car starts behind me, and the gravel shifts underneath the car as they pull away from the building.

"I'm Mrs. Sutherland, and I'm afraid I have some grave news." She swallows, and my face falls. "You see, we're a boarding school. Just a regular one."

"But ..." I scrunch my face up. My parents had been telling me about my past for months. There had to be some kind of a mistake. "What about the brochure?"

"We made them so parents could convince their kids to come here. You see ... Most children don't want to come to boarding school, so at Harringtons, we decided to make the transition a little easier." The lady stands upright and looks down her long nose at me. "We do have some of the best classes and professors this state has to offer. And most students who graduate from here go onto do amazing things."

"But nothing magical," I say, crushed.

"Nothing magical. Just the wonders of the natural universe, I'm afraid." Mrs. Sutherland laughs to herself. It's high and tinny, but I don't get the joke.

She turns and heads up the stairs, carrying one of my bags with her. I grab the other and trudge in her wake, counting down the days until I could scream at my parents.

As much as I'm mad at them, I'm more angry with myself for believing them. Magic. Yeah, right.

- - -

Oh man, I wish Wizarding School existed in real life. I've been in love with the idea of being called to an adventure most of my life. This is probably why I read and write as much as I do, and go out hiking when the weather will let me.

Thanks for reading YA Gets Real! It's a parody series that takes some of my favorite YA tropes and turns them into something more realistic. Although this one is pretty silly in itself.

If you want to read about people learning about their supernatural abilities, consider some of the following titles:
 

YA Gets Real: Invisibility

No one could see me. I was standing in the middle of the crowd at the park, and no one bothered to look my way. I finally did it. I found a way to become invisible, and this moment was the most glorious of my life!

I threw my arms out and tilted my head back, indulging my face with the warmth of the sun. The breeze blew around me, making the fine hairs on my body tremble. I needed something more; I needed to push the limits.

Glancing around, I did a little jig, something someone would have to acknowledge if they could see me. I thrust my hips around in a wide circle, jumped up and down, and did what few swing steps I knew. Still, no one spared me a glance. Everyone was on their way to work, busying themselves on their phones. Everyone was blind to me.

Because I had succeeded.

Grinning, I pulled off my shirt, tossing it into the nearby fountain. Without me, my shirt would probably look odd, suddenly appearing out of thin air. But who cared? No one could blame me. No one would figure out who I was.

I unhooked my bra and tossed it into the fountain too. I spun in a circle, loving the caress of the outdoor air. Finally, I reached down to undo my jeans, but two hands clasped around my wrists, forcing my arms behind my back. I stifled a scream and blinked.

How could he see me? Did he have powers too?

The police officer pulled me towards his vehicle, growling something about protesters. He shoved me unceremoniously in the backseat, and I wanted to cry. My potion hadn't worked on this man, but why? No one else had looked at me, so why him? Why someone who could ruin my life?

---

I waited in the holding cell by myself, being the only minor there. They had given me a large sweatshirt to pull over my head. The spell had obviously worn off in the car ride over. I sighed. Showed what I knew about magic, and how long it could last.

"This has all been a misunderstanding." My ears perked up at the sound of Dad's voice.

"A misunderstanding? Your daughter was tearing her clothes off in the middle of Central--"

"I understand what she was doing, but you have to understand she's off her medication. She always thinks she's a wizard when..." he continued talking, but my blood boiled.

No, Dad. I don't think. I know, I thought bitterly.

"And why would a wizard get naked in public?" The cop sounded bored.

"She believes she can make potions that actually work, and if a wizard could become invisible..." Dad was probably shrugging, even though I couldn't see him. But whenever his voice trailed off like that, he shrugged, as if that would explain everything.

"Fill out these forms," the cop scoffed.

I shook my head back and forth. None of them understood. It had worked, albeit for a short time. No one had seen me. I could have done anything at all. The medication blocked my powers. Why couldn't they understand that? If they put me back on it, it was goodbye powers, hello mundane high school life.

I kicked my feet out, bouncing slightly on the spring-filled cot, anxiety pulsing through me.

"You crazy?" One of the women from across the way asked. Her gray eyes narrowed.

I shook my head, frowning. "Not crazy, just... powerful."

The woman nodded. "I was powerful too, once. But they always take it away."

---

These posts are silly, parody posts of some scenes that can be found in YA tropes intended to make you smile on your Monday morning. I adore YA books, as a reader and a writer. These stories are fiction, but provide a possible alternative to scenes from stories we love.

A few titles I enjoyed where the MC has a special ability (linked images):

 Adult title: 

YA Gets Real: Four Years Later

This is a bit of a continuation from one of the earlier YA Gets Real posts called "Chosen One." Read it here!

---

A knock sounded on our cabin's front door, so loud and harsh that it shook the nails in our walls. I snatched a frame, steadying it with my fingers. Our wedding photo, a bit of a rarity these days. There was one photographer who knew the art of developing film, and he hadn't told anyone else the secret.

"I'm coming," I yelled at whoever was on the other side of the door. Once the banging stopped, I nudged the corner, straightening the photograph.

Crossing the room, I opened the door wide, no longer worried about who might be on the other side. The villages were like that—peaceful, serene, neighborly.

But my heart stopped beating at the sight of Beltrov standing on the other side. Beltrov, who I had left behind to fight a battle I didn't want to be a part of. Beltrov, who still held that stupid "you're the chosen one" sword in his hand.

"Jude," he said, smiling. His voice was more pleased than I could ever make mine at the sight of him.

My eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?" The question slid from my teeth like a snake's hiss.

"Well, we won the war, despite your lack of help." He stepped closer, crossing the threshold of my cabin uninvited.

"So I've heard." I frowned, crossing my arms.

"And I figured you and I could pick up where we had left off." Another step, and now we were a foot apart.

I stayed still. "You figured that after four years, and after I left the war behind, you could come in here, announce the fact that you won, and then court me?"

His eyes darkened and his expression soured, as something in his brain slowly kicked into place. Beltrov may not pick up on body language very well, but he read my sarcasm loud and clear.

"You wouldn't choose to be with me? I finished the war so we could have a future inside the city." He waved at the cabin's wooden interior, lines creasing his face as if it were the most disgusting thing on the planet. No, he wouldn't like the villages. Beltrov thrived in the violence of the city, which was why he stayed to fight.

"I didn't stay because I hated the city and the society, Beltrov. The fight wasn't worth it to me." I shook my head. "Besides, it's been four years. I've moved on, and so should you."

His eyes widened, bewilderment invading his features. "You've moved on."

I held out my hand. "Married and everything."

Beltrov leaned to the side, looking beyond me into the cabin. My husband wasn't home, and thank goodness for that. He was nice and naive. A gentle man who wouldn't know what to do with Beltrov's quick temper.

As it stood, the vein in Beltrov's forehead throbbed as he ground his teeth together. "You are giving it all up... for this?"

"It's been four years. What did you expect me to do?" I leaned against the wall. "Not even one letter, Beltrov. I wrote you dozens of times."

"I was a bit busy." He frowned, stepping back and opening the space between us.

"Well, things have changed. I've changed, and I like where things are now." I shook my head, not knowing what else to say. At least I was being honest.

The puzzlement stayed on his face, muddling his features. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "Well," he started, pausing to collect his thoughts. "It seems we are finished then."

"Yeah. It seems so." I nodded, not having the heart to remind him we were finished four years ago.

He nodded once, pressed his lips into a thin line, and turned on his heels. He marched away from the cabin, heading back towards the city—the city I only saw illuminated at night during the explosions of war. With the war over, I'd probably never see the city again, or any of the people living within.

---

These posts are silly, parody posts of some scenes that can be found in YA tropes. These fun shorts should make you smile on your Monday morning. I love YA books, as a reader and a writer. Still, there are some tropes that deserve to become real. While these stories are still fiction, they provide an alternative, possibly more realistic, version of scenes from stories we love.

YA Gets Real: Love Triangle

I watched from my spot on the couch as Gavin and Xander strummed on their bass and guitar. We’d been hanging out a lot since we met a few weeks back. I had met Gavin first, who introduced me to Xander, and both... well, they had asked me to choose between them. They were band mates and best friends, and both had crushes on me.

If I chose one over the other, it would ruin their friendship. To make matters worse, I felt the same about both of them. They were fun, silly, and made me happy. They also did everything together—Gavin and Xander were a pair. Even though they said they wanted me to choose, I became sick at the thought of it.

I crossed my arms as Gavin started laughing, still wrapped up in my own uncertainty.

“You really need to get that chord right.” Gavin shook his head.

“Oh, and strumming one note over and over again is so challenging.” Xander arched his eyebrow.

“Guys?” I interjected. Lately, these little fights had been getting worse. Each wanted to look like the better option; I was going to ruin them. “It’s been cool watching you play, but maybe I should get going.” If I left now, they’d make up, get over whatever spat this was, and go back to practicing.

“No, we’re fine, Beth.” Xander took off his guitar and leaned it against his amp. “I need a break anyway before Peter gets here.”

“The ever-elusive drummer?” I teased, standing up from the couch and stretching.

“Yeah,” Gavin said, clearly annoyed. “He’s too busy with…” He shrugged. “Actually, I don’t know what Peter does. We should get something to drink at least.” Gavin yawned and started towards the stairs just as a brown haired, tall, slender guy descended.

“Don’t know what I do?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. Peter, I assumed. “Get you guys drinks, obviously.” He held three bottles of soda, and his eyes landed on me. “Though, I didn’t realize I’d need a forth one.”

“This is Beth,” Xander introduced me.

I smiled up at Peter. “It’s fine. I’m just about to—”

Peter shoved the bottles into Gavin’s hands so fast that Gavin almost dropped one. “I’ll get you a bottle. Any preference to flavor?”

Gavin and Xander exchanged a long glance with each other.

“Orange?” I shrugged, trying to play it cool.

“Cool.” Peter turned and headed back upstairs.

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Late, as always.” He handed Xander a cherry cola and put the lemon lime one on the coffee table. The basement room was cozy, perfect for their practice. The worn couch provided the perfect spot for me to do homework in the afternoon, and a nice break from being in my own house.

“Sometimes I don’t think he takes this as seriously as we do.” Xander let out a long breath as he twisted the top off his soda. “I mean, he’s late every single time. He doesn’t practice much outside of here. But I don’t know another drummer that could replace him.”

“Yeah,” Gavin agreed just as Peter came back downstairs.

Peter held the orange soda out, a wide grin on his face. Our fingers brushed as I took it from him. Green and blue seemed to swirl in his eyes as ours locked together. I swallowed, shocked at the shivers running through my spine. Now I knew why I couldn’t choose between Gavin and Xander; neither of them felt like this.

“Sorry it took so long,” he said in a low voice.

“No, I think you’re just in time,” I said back, smiling. With those words, I had made my decision.

---

These posts are silly, parody posts of some scenes that can be found in YA tropes. These fun shorts should make you smile on your Monday morning.

I love YA books, as a reader and a writer. Still, there are some tropes that deserve to become real. While these stories are still fiction, they provide an alternative, possibly more realistic, version of scenes from stories we love.

YA Gets Real: Chosen One

“Jude,” he snarled, grabbing a hold of my wrist. I shook him off and crossed my arms, glaring daggers at him. He pressed on, unabated. “We need you, whether you want to come to terms with it or not. Without you, the entire world as we know it ends.”

I rolled my eyes. “I hardly think the entire world will end. People will find a way to move on after the society crumbles and the war ends.” I shifted my stance. “Or are you telling me that you believe this is the only way to live?”

Beltrov looked me up and down, debating what to say to change my mind. He couldn’t; I had already decided on my future, and none of it involved him or the outlaws.

“If you don’t save us, no one will,” he whispered, his voice pleading. Now he was trying to prey on my emotions. Everything he had said since I had met him had been a lie—a manipulation in attempts to get me to complete his dirty work.

“Look. You can wield the sword, so can I. Who cares if it glows blue when I hold it? There’s no difference. It’s still a sword. No magic, just a blue light.” I sighed, shaking my head. “I’m not doing this. I don’t want to risk my life for a future I don’t believe in.” I wasn’t playing the reluctant hero card, because I wasn’t a hero. I hated this whole thing—the war, the society, the outlaws. I wouldn’t take part in any of it.

“Maybe,” I said, gazing into his gray eyes dulled from years of battle. “Maybe you should join me instead, ever think of that?”

He barked out a laugh. “On a farm. In the middle of the woods.”

I nodded. “It’s much safer than… this.” I gestured to the hollowed out shells of buildings around us. Debris littered the ground. The society was collapsing, thanks to the outlaws. And if I didn’t get my hands on some seeds fast, food would go soon after. “I’d rather not starve to death.”

“We’ve been working towards this our whole lives!” Beltrov exclaimed, kicking at a rock in the ground with disgust written across his face. He gestured wildly, as if that would clue me in on some secret I didn’t already know. “How can you walk away from this?!”

I jabbed a finger into his chest, getting so close to his face that he had to look me in the eyes. I growled, “You’ve been working towards this. You decided that you needed to find me, the chosen one. But look, Beltrov, while I’m flattered by this... prophecy, I will not risk my life. I will not be part of your war.” I shook my head. “This is not life, but destruction.”

“It’s a means to an end.”

“You say that, but I think my method works better.” I shrugged, glancing towards the mountain peaks in the distance. A two day walk, three tops, and I’d find the little, isolated village. I’d find peace. I’d live. Why couldn’t Beltrov see that? “Look, if you win the war, you can come find me in the mountains with the villagers.” I stood on my tip toes and kissed his cheek. “Good luck, Beltrov. Maybe we shall meet again.”

“Jude…” His voice barely came out as a whisper. I pressed my eyes closed and turned away from the ruined city. “But you have the sword’s power... We need you.”

“A blue glowing sword is hardly a reason to stay.” I marched out of the city, refusing to glance back. I feared if I did, I would give into the pitifully sad expression on Beltrov’s face and join his unending war against the society.

---

These posts are silly, parody posts of some scenes that can be found in YA tropes. These fun shorts should make you smile on your Monday morning.

I love YA books, as a reader and a writer. Still, there are some tropes that deserve to become real. While these stories are still fiction, they provide an alternative, possibly more realistic, version of scenes from stories we love.