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."
"It's a tutoring proposition—"
I didn't let her finish. "I'll do it."
"Are you sure?" She asked. Her uncertainty putting a jam in my determination. Why wouldn't I take any opportunity offered to me at this point?
"If it means graduating on time and not putting my life on hold when I don't have to, then yes, I'm sure."
Mrs. Lake nodded, flipping through a new file she had buried in a stack of papers.
"Very well." She agreed, holding eye contact with me to gage my reaction. "Are you familiar with Lincoln Pierce?"
At the mention of his name I almost fell out of my chair. "He's looking for a tutor?"
"No. He is being assigned a tutor." The middle aged woman bit at the inside of her cheek. "Mr. Pierce is quite a bright young man to be fair. He's shown us his potential before, now he just seems to be distracted. The only solution I could come up with was giving him a tutor. Needless to say he isn't too fond of that idea."
Warning signs flashed at the back of my mind. "Well, then he obviously doesn't want a tutor..."
"The board has decided this will be Mr. Pierce's last attempt at graduating. If he doesn't manage to graduate this year the school will be denying his enrolment for next term."
The somber look on Mrs. Lake's face had me sympathizing along with her. But in all fairness Lincoln Pierce was my last concern. He wasn't the only person with the possibility of not graduating hanging over their head.
"That's fine. Whether he wants a tutor or not, I'll do it." I pressed.
"And that's fair. But I feel like I must warn you first." Mrs. Lake said, handing me a sheet of paper she dug up. "Last semester he went through eight different tutors. On top of that, another twelve students refused to even give the position a shot."
With knitted brows I scanned over the list of names, some of which were very familiar. "What is this?"
"A list of students in your grade who offer their services as part-time tutors. Many, like you, are just in it to meet their community service requirement."
"But there aren't even ten students on this list. How could he have possibly gone through that many people?"
Mrs. Lake's eyes sparkled in amusement at my observation.
"Let's just say many asked us to remove them from the list following their attempt at Mr. Pierce. The rest of them decided they either didn't have the time for it or had better things to do."
I didn't blame them. I had better things to do with my senior year than tutor someone with no care for his education. But unlike the rest of the individuals on that list, I didn't have very much freedom in my decision.
"That's fine." I said, shaking my head to rid myself of the self-pity that was clogging my mind. "I'll do it."
"It's not like you have much of a choice." Mrs. Lake's rosy lips parted, laughter fluttering around the office. For the sake of pleasantry I chortled along with her. However, the bold truth lingered in the air.
I really didn't.
"When do I start?" I asked, watching as Mrs. Lake packed up the file.
"Immediately." She said, plucking a pen off her desk and clicking it open. Reaching for her notepad she scribbled down a quick message. "The more time you have, the better. I will make arrangements for the both of you to meet this afternoon during your fourth period spare."
"And I have to tutor him everyday?" I asked, my mind drifting to the new position I had just picked up at a daycare in town.
"If you want to graduate you do. You have to make forty hours in the next two weeks, Calista. Between the two of you, you'll have to figure something out."
"And what if he refuses? You said so yourself, he doesn't want to be tutored."
"Then, unfortunately, you'll be returning for a victory lap."
Giving me a reassuring smile Mrs. Lake held out the pink sticky note to me. "Please deliver this to Mrs. Swiftly on your way out. I'll have her call Lincoln down at the start of next period."
"All right." Taking the bright square from her I gazed at the neat scrawl. Lincoln's name was written along with a quick set of instructions for the secretary outside. The flowing cursive was too pretty for someone like Lincoln Pierce.
"Enjoy the rest of your lunch, Calista."
"Thank you," I responded, already halfway out the door. "You too, Mrs. Lake."
It came as no surprise to me when I walked out to find Mrs. Swiftly sleeping with her head down on the oak desk. I stuck the note to the back of her hand and stepped into the front foyer with new found determination.
I was going to be wearing that blue gown with the rest of my graduating class at the end of July.
Lincoln Pierce be damned.
A/N:
Hi!
Thanks for picking up His Last Hope, I hope you enjoy it. Please keep in mind this is the unedited first draft. I plan on polishing it up in the near future. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Happy reading!
- L