Hello, dear reader. My name is Shay Elizabeth White, and I am the writer of the Codex of Ultimatum.
I cannot tell you why I am, nor can I explain how I got here.
What I know is in this collection of books.
If you came here to read a story about some fantasy adventure with fairies and pixies searching for some kind of jewel, then I am sorry. You’ve come to the wrong place.
This is not a story.
This is my life.
Wait. Wait a minute. I’m getting ahead of myself. Allow me to explain what happened.
But where should I start? When I was diagnosed with dyslexia? When I started writing my book?
Or perhaps that average Thursday in my 2nd Period class…
“And that,” Mr. Burns finished, “is how you use sine, cosine, and tangent to discover the length of the hypotenuse.”
Good lord, I hate Mr. Burns.
He is the kind of teacher who is too old to be alive (my suspicions are that he was a teacher before such a thing as school existed) with gray hair and a large nose. His eyebrows are half-gone and his mouth is made in such a way that he always frowns. Maybe he is always frowning.
I’ve never really been a fan of math. Or triangles. Add them together and you get Trigonometry.
Why on Earth would anyone want to teach about triangles for a whole year? I mean, really, who in the world would want to learn about how to figure out how to find the side of a triangle with its angles?
Apparently Mr. Burns.
So here I am, sitting at my desk and fiddling with a calculator that barely shows any numbers since the letters on the buttons were scratched off.
“Alright, class,” he says, getting his laser pointer out of his pocket. “Let’s go to page 74 in your textbook. I want you to solve problems 1-16.”
There is a universal groan from the classroom, the loudest of which comes from Lucas Hawthorne.
Lucas has been my best friend since 4th grade, and he has never let me down. I was always impressed with his soft light-brown hair (he would never tell me how he got it) and his dark green eyes nearly make me stunned. He’s probably the funniest and most amazing person that I’ve ever known.
But, of course, I’m not allowed to say that in front of my boyfriend, Daniel Miller. Lucas and Daniel have been enemies since middle school, and I’ve always been the mediator. Daniel has shimmering black hair and gray eyes that stare directly into my soul. Daniel has always been a caring person, but he and I have the occasional argument. Not enough to break up, though.
I pull out my notebook as Lucas passes a note to me: “How’s the book coming along?”
I smile and get out the pencil between the tip of my ear and my head and start writing back: “Pretty good. I’m still on the fifth chapter.” I pass the note back to Lucas, and then decide to start writing. So I pull out my composition book and start writing.
It has been a few years since I have seen her. Perhaps it’s just
that I haven’t talked to her code-
I grin. There goes another word. Silently I pull out a small notebook separate from my composition book and write “code” down.
So I’m not wrong. This has been a huge coincidence for the past month or so, but all of my messed-up words have been connecting. I think it’s a letter, but… to whom? The words, it can’t be by coincidence that the words just match up.
It has been quite a long time since I have seen you, friend.
But I have a more pressing matter at hand. This, my friend, is a code.
Who wrote this? And more importantly, this code that he talks about… what is it? I think for a long while, trying to piece the parts of the whole together. But something intrudes my train of thought.
“Shay,” Mr. Burns says. I look up, and there he is, standing at my desk. “How would you like to answer question number 4?”
Great. I’m already failing. Might as well show my stupidity to the entire class.
“Uh,” I manage to get out. I look toward Lucas, hoping that he can give me an answer. He lifts up a sheet of paper with the answer: x = 5y.
“Let’s see,” I say, and I begin scribbling random numbers onto a random sheet of paper. When I realize that it’s enough, I write the answer down.
“x = 5y,” I pronounce as loud as I dare.
Mr. Burns smiles. “Oh,” he says, clearly hiding his sarcasm through the muttering under his breath. “That is the correct answer, Shay. Would you mind explaining to the class how you got it?”
I let out a small fake laugh. Fantastic. “Of course, Mr. Burns,” I begin to speak. “Well, to begin, I—”
“In fact, if you are so willing to tell the class,” Mr. Burns began, “why don’t you go to the blackboard and write how you got the answer. Step. By. Step. Seems reasonable?”
I nearly growl, slowly standing up and walking to the front of the class. I lift up a piece of chalk and begin scribbling numbers until I write the answer.
“Shay, I’m not sure if I approve your…” he gives out a long pause, “…method of work. I’ve truly never seen such a solution before.”
“It’s a shortcut,” I proclaim.
“A shortcut,” Mr. Burns repeats. “Perhaps one called cheating?”
I give a semi-fake gasp. “I would never cheat!”
Mr. Burns gives off a menacing smile, which I’ve never seen before. He never smiles, and that leaves me to suggest the worst. “Shay, I will see you,” he says, nearly snickering, “after class.”