ExtraOrdinary

Ch. 3 (Chance)

*Chance*

Why was this happening? It was like I had walked into a dream, and I didn't know how to get out.

My mind wasn't grasping this. Was it because I hadn't expressed my feelings for Bankington High?

As my eyes glanced at my full backpack, I felt a sinking sadness fill my heart. What about the librarian, my friends, my teachers? What was I going to tell them when I didn't show up for my senior year? The memories from that place seemed to mean nothing, if I couldn't reiterate them with the people I had made them with.

I hated transferring schools, which was probably why this was so hard for me. Growing up, we moved around a lot because of my father's job so I went to several different schools. I never got used to it.

Transferring halfway through my freshmen year of high school had been a life-altering experience for me that scared me more than I cared to admit. I knew no one and figured all the cliques had already been made.

And now that I was a senior and knew everyone at Bankington, it made no sense to leave. I didn't want to leave.

Or maybe I was just being a spoiled brat.

My dad put a large, calloused hand on my shoulder and looked at my school supplies on the counter. "Well, my boy, are you ready to be a senior?"

"I guess," I said with a small shrug.

It was uncharacteristic of me to be a disheartened, lethargic person. The modeling was getting to me—the drama and depression and fireworks that belonged to Hollywood and its affiliates.

My dad chuckled. "Ah, senior year. The pranks my friends and I would pull! I remember once—"

I cut him off. As I turned away, I said, "Sorry, dad, but I don't want to hear about your high school adventures."

He raised an eyebrow at me as my mother handed him a cup of coffee. "You always listen to my stories. Marge, tell me, what's gotten into him?"

My mother let out a sigh. "It appears our son is depressed about changing schools." She knew me well.

I sat down in an old, rickety chair that always threatened to break if you sat on it. I kept my weight light to avoid crashing to the ground.

"Changing schools? Chance, do you know the reason why you're changing?" my father asked, approaching me.

I shook my head. "Not really." I didn't care to find out, so I hadn't asked.

A sigh came from him. "I got demoted so we can't afford the things we used to be able to. We can't afford the tuition for Bankington anymore. The only choice we have is to send you to Wellsworth."

I looked at my dad, surprise swimming in my eyes. I had always figured my exceedingly intelligent father would only be promoted, so this came as a shock to me. And why hadn't they announced this sooner? Now I felt like a dramatic baby.

My mom put her arm around my dad and smiled gently at me. "Don't worry, we aren't poor. We just need to be more cautious and aware with our money. Do you think you can try to be happy at your new school, for us?"

And my mom was making me feel like a baby. Lovely.

I stared at the pleading faces of my parents and sat up straighter. I nodded once and conceded, "Yeah, I'll try." It was the least I could do for my parents, especially with this on their plate now.

My parents smiled at me and then left the room to do whatever it was they did on Sunday afternoons.

The chair squeaked as I got up. I went into the kitchen and took out the brochure for Wellsworth Public High School. I looked at the double-story, red brick school and sighed.