Convict H.S/M.C. (Complete)

Chapter 4

So here's the next chapter, hope you all enjoy! Please let me know if you enjoy it! Thank you all again so much!
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Miley -

I ran out of the classroom after Harry, but was faced with a silent hallway. How he could have run away that fast was a mystery to me. I listened for running footsteps, but heard nothing.

Until a door slammed down and around the corner of the hall.

I ran after the slam, knowing I'd be in so much trouble for running out during class, but right now I had to make sure Harry was okay.

Why would he get that scared over such a stupid thing? Honestly, he could have at least tried to pronounce the word. Why had he panicked like that? Why had he run out over that? It seemed like such a little thing to get that upset over.

I ran around the corner of the hall and slowed down when I came to doorways. The men's and ladies.

Of course, he would run to a bathroom to hide.

I checked that no one would see me walking into the boy's bathroom before walking in, and was immediately faced with Harry.

He was leaning over the sink, white knuckles gripping the countertop around the sink and crying.

Why was he THIS upset?

"Harry?" He looked up at me, eyes bloodshot and tears slipping down his face. He didn't look like the druggie criminal I'd always thought of him as. He now looked like a regular teenage boy. Who had been crying.

I slowly walked closer as he leaned over the sink once again and sniffled.

"Harry, it's not that big a deal. Honest, it's not. Everyone has that problem with-"

"I can't read it!" He suddenly shouted. I jumped at how loud he'd shouted. It scared me a bit. The stall doors rattled and his deep hoarse voice echoed through the restroom.

"You...you couldn't read it? That's the problem?" Why hadn't he just said so instead of getting so upset?

"Well Harry, there are solutions to that you know. Glasses-"

"No! I mean.." He sniffled and finally released his death grip on the sink and turned to face me fully. Wiping his tears away.

"I mean I can't read. Like, at all."

My jaw dropped. I know it did. I'd never met someone who couldn't read. Never. This isn't Africa, this is America. Everyone goes to school and learns to read when they're four, five, six, right? Looking at Harry, apparently I've been wrong my whole life.

"How do you not know how to read? Didn't you ever go to school? Did your parents never try to teach you? You've been in foster homes, didn't any of them try to teach you?" I asked, not understanding how he could be 17, and not know how to read.

Harry only looked down at the tile floor and shook his head slowly.

"No one ever.." He slowly raised his head and sniffled once again, before leaning back against the painted blue wall.

"No one ever thought it mattered, I guess." He sighed.

Now I was angry. Why did no one think it was important?! He's human, therefore he should have the same rights to learn. The same chances and opportunities to learn and be able to thrive in life. Why didn't anyone think he deserved that?

I suddenly found myself walking right up to the boy I thought I hated and suddenly wrapping my arms around him in a hug. Only to be pushed away.

"What're you doing? I don't need your stupid pity!" He yelled, though his voice cracked at the end. And his eyes teared up, and I could see him fighting his own feelings.