The Weight of Words: The Weight of Words, #1

By Christopher Jackson

Being a freshman can be HARD. Being a freshman who is shy, alone, and struggling with dyslexia is even HARDER. Others say he is different and Phillip feels safer in the comfort of his own company… as lonely as that may be. Yet, things start to change for the better when Phillip meets Delanie, Nick, and Tucker.

With his mother unwilling to give him more freedom, Phillip refuses to let fear get in the way and gets involved with the school play: allowing him some bonding time with Delanie, and feelings begin to blossom.

Yet, as they form a hopeful bond, Phillip learns something that could force him to choose between his new friend and newfound crush. Can harmony be restored? Will he finally have a date for the formal? Or was being lonely easier? One thing is for sure, freshman year is Phillips' biggest challenge yet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christopher Jackson
• Release date: Dec 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393819905

Christopher Jackson

Christopher Jackson is a new ambitious writer who is gracing the scene with his realistic heart-warming dramas. This is his first publication which he began writing to reach young audiences and encourage kind actions towards others. Christopher studies business and philosophy when he isn’t typing away at the keyboard and finds philosophy helps with his writing. He then spends the majority of his free time with his family, friends, and pets. His number one priority and objective is to, “spread a message of kindness, self-courage, and perseverance” through his work. He shines a light on lesser-known problems of diverse personalities and their daily lives; supporting youthful readers and giving them something new to relate to.

Book preview

To my parents, who never fail to see the best in me.

Chapter One

High schools were ridiculously loud, Philip Hoff immediately decided on his first day of high school. It was like being suffocated in both noise and movement as students jostled him on their way to class. Here and there were pockets of friends getting back together after the long summer, gossiping about teachers and each other, and generally ignoring him. The last part was completely fine by Philip, as were the others, but he desperately wanted the noise to cease, if only for a moment.

His schedule was printed on obnoxiously bright baby blue paper and crumpled in one hand. Headphones rested on his ears, playing the anti-stress music his mother made him try. His other hand was shoved into the pocket of his black hoodie. In fact, it was his favorite hoodie, paired with gray sweatpants that his father had given him years ago; soon after he’d grown out of them. It was the perfect outfit for blending in. He hadn’t bothered to pull his hood up- he hadn’t dyed his hair any ridiculous colors, like some of his peers. Just plain brown hair. Had he brushed it this morning?

Philip let out a long breath. He needed to calm down. Someone tapped on his shoulder, and he looked up. A fearsome-looking woman was frowning at him.

No headphones in the hallways, please, she said. He half expected her to take them, but instead she offered him a small smile. It looked forced. Are you a freshman? He nodded, terrified of this woman. How had she marked him as a freshman so easily? Was there a mark burned into his head? Philip slid his headphones down onto his shoulders, and the woman turned on her heel and stalked away, beeping toward a group of upperclassmen who were getting louder than the rest of the hallway. A couple of girls walked past him, heads bent together as they made their way up a staircase.

Philip looked back down at his schedule. A spaghetti-like jumble of words gazed evenly back. He recognized the letters as individuals, but when they were put together, they stopped making sense. Words, grouped together within boxes, that told him exactly where he needed to go.

And yet he could not understand any of them. He figured the numbers beside them were the room numbers, but he did not want to be wrong. That would definitely peg him as a freshman- going to the wrong class on the first day of school.

You okay? A girl stood in front of him. In her hand, there was a yellow schedule. So, a sophomore then.

I- I’m fine, Philip said. The girl flashed a smile.

What’s your first period? Philip resisted the urge to curse underneath his breath.

Room 313, he said, and she tipped her head.

That’s where Mr. Stoffer used to be. But he’s only for juniors. He’s also the sponsor of the math club. I was in it last year, and I’m going to sign up again this year. Philip desperately tried to think of an out. He could not care less whether this girl was part of the math club or the soccer team. She was just trying to prove herself, like she was the end all be all of Hillside High information.

Do you know who’s in there now? Philip asked, and the girl scrunched her eyebrows.

Isn’t that on your schedule? Here, let me see it. Philip held his blue piece of paper out toward her, and she snatched it. Yeah, you’ve got Mrs. Bennet. Good luck. Oh my gosh! I just have to tell you that you’re so cute. All of you freshmen are.

How do I get there? God, she talked a lot.

Just go up these stairs. 313 is the first room on the right. Just let me know if you need anything else, okay baby? Baby. Philip almost threw up as she stalked away to regroup with a large group of girls. Philip squirmed as they all looked at him.

A bell rang, and he pulled his phone out to check the time. 7:25. Five minutes until he absolutely had to be in class, and he didn’t love the idea of being late. Turning his back on the girls, Philip turned and strode toward the staircase, backpack weighing him down on one shoulder. Up the stairs, which were just as loud as the downstairs hallway. Students pressed around him, suffocating him. There were so many more than he had expected. How could this school put so many people in one place and expect them to concentrate? To do well?

A group of kids looked up at him as he walked in, as did the teacher seated at her desk. There was a nameplate on the front, but he ignored it, choosing to look around the room before speaking to her.  

First period math? The woman asked, and Philip froze. Why hadn’t he asked that girl what subject he was going to?

Um, he said, and pretended to check his schedule. I think so, I don’t really know how to read this? He desperately hoped the teacher believed his lie. She stood up, coming over to check the schedule.

Looks like it! You’re part of my homeroom and first period. Welcome to Algebra One! Philip didn’t trust people who liked math that much. Or who got that excited about some random freshman being in their first period.

Just take a seat anywhere, the teacher said. "I’ll put the seating chart out