Cola & Night of Revelation

By Briana Lagos

Cola: Nicole knows to be fortunate for the opportunities she's been given being able to take on college courses while still in high school, but she can't shake the feeling she's not doing good enough. Alton has his own issues to handle and a secret kept hidden within childish treats. The moments shared between these two allow them new perspectives that help further along their own individual growth.

Night of Revelation: Tonight Quinn plans to confess her romantic feelings to Milton, a high school senior that most underclassmen adored. However, Carmen doubts any good to come from this tactic and hopes Quinn will change her mind by the time of her party. As the night rolls on, unplanned occurrences from other party-goers, including Quinn's long-time friends Lonnie and Barney, arise when other emotions are exposed. As these secrets come to flourish throughout the evening, the truth becomes quite crushing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Briana Lagos
• Release date: Mar 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393987840

Briana Lagos

Briana Lagos, author of Criminal Offence :X, writes young adult stories that focus on the journey of self-discovery enveloped in shared experiences. She graduated from Flagler College in 2015 with a Bachelor of Arts in English and Psychology minor. She lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband and their two small dogs.

Book preview

COLA

The Flores’ were proud to learn their daughter could start college courses during her final year in high school. Due to her "being so smart" as Nicole’s mother frequently bragged, she honorably met the requirements needed to participate in the dual enrollment program. Although Nicole acknowledged that she barely passed the placement test, heavily regarding the piece of paper she kept pinned on her empty cork board in which a graphical image of her score sat on the same line as the cutoff score for program entitlement.

Nicole needed to remind herself she was lucky, if not blessed.

She started light and took two night classes that met every Monday and Wednesday of the week. She didn’t have a car or a driver’s license for that matter, so her father drove her to campus at five and picked her up at eight-thirty.

He, a tan, burly man with bushy dark hair and light brown eyes similar to Nicole’s, flicked a cigarette butt out the window and turned down the volume of Santana in midst of an intense guitar solo as he pulled into the main parking lot.

With a thick and scratchy Spanish accent, her father asked, Is good here?

Nicole nodded, checking her appearance in the visor mirror once more. Patting the unmanageable shoulder length dark curls of her hair and wiping her face with the back of her hand for stray pieces that stuck, she shut the mirror and gave her father a warm smile.

See ya, papi.

You got everything you need, he asked. Know where you go?

Nicole pulled her backpack onto her lap, her hand on the inside door handle. Got my schedule here, don’t worry.

Okay, he said while she stood from the beat-up white Toyota. As she shut the door he leaned over the passenger’s seat, looking up at her with concerned eyes.

Eight-thirty?

Yep.

That’s late, he said. You not gonna to be hungry?

I brought a snack. Nicole said, gesturing her bag. I’ll be fine.

He nodded, putting the car in reverse as he gave her a little wave while she walked towards the buildings.

It was a drag for Nicole having to take classes at night while still going to school during the day, but she wouldn’t dare audibly complain about something so trivial.

People had it much worse.

While sitting in the back row of her first class with a notebook open and pen in hand, she listened as her peers chatted about work and familial obligations they couldn’t avoid. And with no one to talk to herself, she began writing down a to-do list of endeavors that were foolishly beyond her reach.

Nicole considered her break in between classes thirty minutes of satisfactory relief. She sat down at one of the many empty bench tables spread in the center of the two main buildings where lectures were held. On the opposite end of campus sat a large white fenced gazebo that was considered the student hotspot she avoided out of habit, seclusion being her true comfort.

However, more students migrated towards these bench tables within weeks into the semester, leaving Nicole’s favorite table taken by a sloppy couple that couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. She didn’t have the guts or energy to say anything, halting automatic steps towards her routine.

So Nicole continued on the sidewalk in order to not look like an awkward pause. She curiously came upon a staircase she never noticed before that led below somewhere and—not sure whether she would get in trouble—Nicole drifted down the steps and found an open, half outdoor-indoor common area. With her mouth slightly agape, she shuffled towards one of the three bench tables spread across the space facing an empty dirt parking lot. Two vending machines sitting against a freshly beige painted wall buzzed faintly and a tiny unisex bathroom appeared hastily carved out of the corner like an afterthought.

Nicole