Cracks

Chapter 2 Welcome to the nuthouse

Whoever had decided on Hillview High hadn't known what they were doing. It became obvious pretty fast that she didn't know what she was doing either. She didn't understand most of what was being taught in any of the classes, people kept staring at her in the hallways, and before lunch she had already been sent to the principal's office.

It wasn't fair. The teacher had asked a stupid question. And what did the alphabet have to do with calculus anyway? It didn't make sense.

At least they had finally installed a ramp. It was improvised and inconvenient, but it did the job. She would only have to cross it twice a day if she was lucky.

Allison rolled herself down the ramp to the sidewalk below and glared at the person casually leaning against a shiny car. "What are you doing here?"

He pushed away from the car to open the passenger door for her. "Hello to you too. How was your day? It was good, Trevor, thank you. How was yours? Not too bad. Rounded up two cases. And still I found time in my busy schedule to drive you home from school."

Allison scoffed. "I didn't ask you to come. I can find my own way back to the nuthouse, thank you."

Trevor sighed impatiently. "It's not a nuthouse, Ally. It's a group home. They have the facilities you need. The alternative isn't so fancy."

"Don't call me Ally," Alison hissed.

"Get in the car, Allison," Trevor told her sternly, "there's things we need to discuss."

Allison gritted her teeth and moved her wheelchair closer to the car. She knew she didn't have much choice.

Trevor stepped up to her and Allison reluctantly placed an arm around his neck so he could support her and lift her in the passenger seat. Carefully he adjusted her position. "Comfortable like that?"
She gave a curt nod and he closed the door for her.

Allison watched as Trevor folded her wheelchair and placed it in the trunk of the car. She hated it. She hated being dependent on others to do the simplest things. It was humiliating.

Trevor closed the trunk and sat down behind the wheel. "Seatbelt," he said pointedly.

Allison raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? What do you worry will happen? Me ending up in a wheelchair?"

The look he gave her was unimpressed and Allison sighed while putting on the seatbelt.

"See?" Trevor smiled as he drove off. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

She crossed her arms and ignored him as she looked out the window at the passing scenery of big houses, nicely trimmed front lawns and pristine yards. How well she fit in here. She sighed.

"So, how did it go today?" Trevor asked after a while of silent driving. When he was met with more silence, he sighed again. "It's a good school, Ally. Just try, will you? It's just two years. You need a high school diploma. Who knows, perhaps you can even go to college."

Allison snorted. "Yeah, right. I ain't that smart. And don't call me Ally."

Trevor shook his head. "So you're just giving up? What happened to that headstrong kid I met all those years ago?"

"You hated that kid," Allison said quietly, "you told her to grow up. You said she gave you grey hairs before your time."

Trevor ran a hand through his hair, which was indeed slightly greying, and sighed. "I deal with kids like you every day. And you were a real pain in the ass. But you weren't a quitter. I won't let you quit now. You have a chance to make something of your life. It might well be your last chance. You know the deal." The stubborn look on her face spelled thunder, but he wasn't finished. "That brings me to what I needed to talk to you about. Therapy. You need to go."