Finding Hope

Chapter One: Finneas

My pencil dug into the paper of the notebook, as I scribbled a darker and darker spot as the seconds ticked by. Ms. Livingston continued to drone on about the history of different businessmen, her words turning into white noise in the background. My hoodie sleeves that were pulled down past my hands dragged against the paper.

The lead of my pencil snapped, causing the sliver of lead to roll across the paper in slow circles. I glared at the smudge it left behind. "Finneas!" My head snapped up at my name, finding Ms. Livingston frowning at my desk, her ruler cracked atop it. "Is the sheet of your paper more important than my teachings," she snarled.

I ducked my head. "No ma'am."

Several low chuckles filled the classroom, I only tucked my head down farther. Ms. Livingston shook her head as if she were ridding herself of me before she moved back to the front of the class.

The bell rang through the room dismissing the class. I shoved both my notebook and pencil into my ratty messenger bag that was practically falling apart at the seams before leaping to my feet and racing out of the classroom as fast as humanly possible.

The halls were crowded with people, the jocks huddling in one big circle in front of a batch of lockers, the cheerleaders lingering around them, while the "goth kids" hung in the far corner against the wall, their studded and spiked chokers shining in the light. People slammed their lockers and shoved and elbowed their way through the crowded bodies. I was careful and managed to keep to the wall as I moved silently through the openings left between people. The occasional elbow dug into my ribs causing a ripple of pain to flash through my side a reminder of the bruises littering my skin.

I took the steps two at a time and managed to make it to the second floor where my English class was on the right side of the hall. I ducked into the class two doors down, and quickly moved to the back of the room finding my usual corner spot. As usual I passed the girl who sat in the center of the room, her light brown hair reflecting the shine of the light from the fluorescent lights lining the ceiling. Her both dark and light brown eyes stayed focused on the front of the classroom, ignoring the people that moved past her. Her notebook was already laid out on her desk, opened to a clean page, with her pencil laid neatly next to the book.

Every day she sat in the same seat, her attention on the screen being projected from the ceiling in the front of the room, everything she needed for the class already laid out on her desk. Her entire attitude screamed perfectionist. The kind of person who would have a 95% or above in every class, AP classes taking up the majority of the schedule, and scholarships already laid out to most likely receive a full ride.

She was going somewhere in life, whereas I would most likely fail through high school and end up with a shitty entry level job on top of the two I already had, living in some crappy apartment. While she would end up on the east coast running her own business with a steady income.

The class started with Mr. Redman playing a video of a recent speech by some random celebrity that everyone seemed to know, but I had no clue existed. I tapped my foot on the floor fumbling with my hoodie sleeves, watching as the clock ticked. Waiting for the hour hand to tick one to the right signaling the end of the day, and that's how I continued the rest of the class.

The second the bell rang I was out of my seat and out of the room. I jogged back down to the first floor and ducked out of the first exit I could find. I quickly walked to the parking lot finding my old, rusted Toyota in the back of the lot. I tossed my bag into the backseat before leaving the school behind in my rearview and heading downtown to my job at the local grocery store that I worked at on weekdays.