Secret Torture (Student/Teacher) - COMPLETED

Chapter Thirty Eight: A Change

Weeks passed. I kept waiting for something to change. Nothing ever did, because nothing ever does. 

Every day I wasn't in school was spent with James. We were together always. He was still hurting, very much so, from the loss of Leo. I could see it inside of him - the pain that was eating away at his heart burned so deeply in his eyes. He didn't like talking about it, and I didn't like bringing it up. I tended to tread very lightly when I was with him. I was careful around him - cautious that what I might say could hurt him, and could anger him. So we never talked about it. We never talked about much at all, actually. 

My final day in school arrived frighteningly quickly. The past few months were a blur. The time had flown by me unnoticed. All of a sudden, I was faced with many "last's". Too many. It was all ending. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. A part of me had been waiting for this moment for so long. I didn't envisage it like this. I didn't feel happy, or free. But I also didn't feel sad. It was something in-between. Something I couldn't quite explain. The closest thing I could think of was the feeling of being utterly and completely lost.

When the final bell rang on my final day in school, my fellow classmates were either jumping with joy or bursting into tears. As I made my way to my locker, I saw girls holding each other, all mascara tears, making false promises that they'll stay in touch, when realistically, very few of them will. Teachers were saying their goodbyes, wishing their students well, telling them how much they will be missed, and not meaning a word of it. 

I reached my locker, and pulled out the last of my books. It should have been a sentimental moment - cleaning out my memories for some other student to replace with theirs next year. I just still didn't know how to feel.

A hand landed on my shoulder. I spun around, to see a girl from my French class smiling at me - a bright girl named Ivy Lancaster. 

"Allison, I'm going to miss you so much!" she said, pulling me into a tight hug.

I forced my limp arms around her back. 

"Yeah. You too," I said, smiling. 

"You're heading off to art college, right?"

I nodded my head. "Yeah," I said. I had sent out applications. I still hadn't heard back. Another worry.

"You'll love it. You're amazing at art - I saw the new mural, by the way! It's insane!"

"Thanks, but it wasn't just me, a lot of us were working on that."

She smiled. "Right. Still - good job, Allison. Keep in touch, yeah?"

I smiled back. "Definitely."

Ivy moved on, and as I stood, sort of stunned, by my locker, I was hit with the unbearable urge to leave. Immediately.

I scooped the remaining books into my bag and slung it over my shoulder. As I slammed the locker door shut for the very last time, a new visitor had arrived. Mr. Wilson.

"Hello," he said, as he gave me a gentle smile. "Leaving so soon?"

I slowly smiled back. "Uh, yeah."

He folded his arms, observing me. "You're not going to miss it here, are you?" he asked. 

"I haven't really decided yet," I admitted.

"Well, you can't ever really know whether you'll miss something until it's well and truly gone, I suppose. But I seriously doubt you'll miss my History class," he smirked.

I laughed, unsure of what to say.

"You were a good student and in my experience, good students go on to do great things. I believe you're very capable of that, Allison," Mr. Wilson said.