His Last Hope | Ream Exclusive

01: Lincoln Pierce be damned.

I couldn't graduate.

Four years of my life dedicated to my high school career. That was four years worth of assignments, all-nighters, and hair loss. All that effort — all that time — and now I was being told I wouldn't be leaving.

"What do you mean I won't be able to graduate?" I asked, gaining the full attention of the guidance counsellor before me.

I had never once felt uneasy entering Mrs. Lake's office. She was one of the most kind and sincere adults I ever had the pleasure of knowing. On this particular March afternoon however, I had never felt more threatened.

Mrs. Lake's worn fingers flipped through my file. She analyzed what she found, reading a few lines to herself before she started speaking. "Everything is perfect. Your grades are phenomenal. You've joined an adequate number of clubs and committees—"

"Then why can't I graduate?" I pressed, feeling the skin on the back of my neck heat up. This was a nightmare, a living breathing nightmare.

"You don't have the required amount of community service hours."

I blinked at her. That's what was holding me back?

The room felt too hot all of the sudden. I was sweating, tugging at the material of my hoodie. For the first time since it started to snow back in November I wanted to go outside. I didn't care if the weather was similar to what you would find in the North Pole.

Mrs. Lake waited for me to collect myself. I could hear the slight movement of her rolling back and forth in her chair as she waited, the wheels brushing the stiff, green carpet.

"Okay..." I said, forcing poisonous thoughts out of my mind. "Okay... I have time to complete them, don't I? I have to have time. When's the deadline?"

A grim line formed on Mrs. Lake's thin face. "By the end of the month you have to accumulate a minimum of forty hours."

The already constricting brick walls of the compact office threatened to close in on me. The open door and uncovered window in the room did little to ease the suffocating feeling in my lungs.

"They want me to get forty hours of community service hours done in two weeks?" The pitch of my voice rose a few octaves.

Mrs. Lake's black rimmed glasses shifted down her nose. "I'm so sorry Calista. The administration office overlooked your file. You're such an outstanding student, they didn't think you would have missed something as silly as community service."

"If it's so silly why can't I graduate without it?"

"It's mandatory for all high school students across the province of Ontario. Students are expected to complete ten hours of volunteer work for every year. You haven't done any." She explained, her hands folded on the top of her standard office desk. Mrs. Lake was the perfect picture of calm and professional, something I was lacking at that moment.

"So what does this mean?" My forehead met the palm of my hand. I couldn't make eye contact. Instead I focused on the neat bun perched on her head, willing my eyes not to water like they wanted to. "Am I meant to take another semester?"

"That's what the government requires, yes. As long as it takes really, until you can catch up."

As long as it takes...

I had already received early acceptances from university programs I was dying to get into. How was I going to tell my parents I was going to have to turn them down? How was I going to stay behind while the rest of my class graduated, moving on without me?

"However," Mrs. Lake's voice pulled me from my inner turmoil, "I have a position that can complete the requirement if you choose to take it."

"Of course." I said, sliding up to the edge of my seat. "Anything."