My boyfriend is a nine-tailed fox

Chapter 2: Balancing Act

Anita leaned over the library table, her history book open to a section on local legends. A notebook sat beside her, scribbled with half-formed ideas for her project. She chewed the end of her pen, trying to focus, but her mind kept drifting to the lines she still hadn’t memorized for the play.

“Focus, Anita,” she whispered to herself, flipping the page.

“Talking to yourself already?” Max plopped into the chair across from her, a tray of snacks in hand. “It’s only Monday. At this rate, you’ll be full-on muttering by Friday.”

“Not helping, Max,” Anita shot back, though a small smile tugged at her lips.

Claire appeared moments later, her sketchbook tucked under her arm. She glanced at Anita’s pile of books and winced. “Yikes. How’s it going?”

“Let’s see,” Anita said, holding up her notebook. “I’ve got three possible topics for my history project: ancient burial sites, forgotten trade routes, or—get this—a cursed temple in the forest.”

“Cursed temple? That sounds fun,” Claire said, sitting down.

“Yeah, fun until Mr. Harris tears it apart,” Anita grumbled. “You know how he gets if something doesn’t sound academic enough.”

“True,” Max said. “He does have that scary eyebrow-raise thing when he’s unimpressed. Maybe aim for something safer?”

Anita sighed. “Safer is boring. I want to do something different. Something with a story behind it, not just dates and facts.”

“You’re not wrong,” Claire said thoughtfully. “But you also don’t want to fail. Maybe there’s a way to tie it all together? Like, focus on the history but weave in the legend.”

Anita blinked. “That’s… actually a good idea.”

Claire smirked. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

By the time lunch ended, Anita felt a flicker of hope. Claire’s suggestion had sparked something in her, and for the first time, she felt excited about the project.

That afternoon, during history class, Mr. Harris paced at the front of the room like a drill sergeant.

“Your projects,” he barked, “are due in three weeks. I expect thorough research, proper citations, and critical analysis. No fluff, no filler. Understand?”

The class mumbled their assent, but Anita knew better than to coast. Mr. Harris had a reputation for being ruthless when it came to grading.

“Ms. Taylor,” he called, fixing her with a sharp look. “You’ve chosen your topic, I assume?”

“Yes, sir,” Anita said quickly. “I’m exploring local legends and their historical contexts.”

Mr. Harris’s brow furrowed, and Anita braced herself. “Local legends? Risky. Be sure to ground your work in fact, or you’ll find your grade lacking.”

“Yes, sir,” Anita said again, her voice steady.

As soon as the bell rang, Anita darted out of class, relief washing over her. She barely had time to catch her breath before heading to play rehearsal.

On stage, she slipped into character, her voice ringing out as she delivered her lines. The story of The Lost Empress felt even more poignant now, with its themes of betrayal and resilience.

“Good work today,” Mrs. Peters said as rehearsal ended. “But remember, Anita, the empress is a complex character. She’s not just angry; she’s also heartbroken. Show us that vulnerability.”

Anita nodded, though she couldn’t help but feel the pressure mounting. Balancing school, the play, and her history project was starting to feel impossible.

As she walked home that evening, her mind wandered to the “cursed temple” Claire had mentioned. Could there really be something hidden in the forest near town? Something tied to the legends she’d read about?

A chill ran down her spine, but she shook it off. It was probably just an old story. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what she told herself.