SANTA MARIA HIGH (COMPLETED)

Part One: 5

AN: Hello guys! Que Pasa¿! 🙌

I've been interested in learning Spanish for a while now, but I don't know anyone who speaks it in my little social circle, plus my pathological laziness and aptitude for procrastination... 😔 So I'm open to help. (That is by the way)

I'm sorry it took so long to update... But here's what I've got. I hope you like it.♥

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The white BMW slowed through the wide opened gates of Santa Maria High. Aunty Alice got a pass after stating the obvious.

Hope leaned on the back rest—with her phone right before her eyes as she was busy punching buttons. She was saying goodbye to all her friends as fast as she could before be having to hand that phone back to Aunty Alice.

It was very hard, as one could imagine, the young girl parting ways with friends in her old school—some of which shared same classes with her in primary school and could recount Hope’s life history to a certain level of accuracy that’s born from a little over a decade of familiarity—because of the relocation.

Most importantly, she would have to log off WriteIt for the next three freaking months.

WriteIt was an online writers’ community where she posted stories, to a host of readers from many parts of the world. One could meet people and share experience on WriteIt, Hope loved that.

She was working on a story and she was done with the first of two parts. The story was about a girl’s journey to find her true parent. Jane (the fictional character) was all she could only dream to be: daring, bold, tall and beautiful; she would never give in, was never discouraged. Jane always knew what to do and she would go ahead and do it.

Though not the crème de la crème of WriteIt, Hope had her fair share of readers who seemed to like the story.

So, leaning back, and staring at the comments many made about the story so far, Hope wondered what Jane would have done (had Jane been in her shoes) when Aunty Alice told her about sending her to a boarding school. Hope imagined Jane push a weave of matted hair behind and scrunch her nose; she would look back at Aunty Alice with a jaunty defiant stance that tells the world she wasn’t going to back down any time soon. Then she would consider the name first. SANTA MARIA HIGH. That’s mouthful, she would think. “why?” Jane would ask, “are there no day schools around?”