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“Blake Thomas,” Mr. Harris, my homeroom teacher, peered at me over his horn-rimmed glasses.
Yes, my first and last name were “boy” names.
I looked up at him quizzically. “Yes?”
“Mr. Diesel requires your presence.” He walked over and handed me a slip of paper.
I nodded in confusion, slipped my book into my messenger bag, and started to walk out of the classroom. Mr. Diesel was my counselor. I met him once at a meet and greet the beginning of m
y freshman year. I wonder what he could possibly want. I tensed up with all the possibilities.
I noticed almost everyone was watching me go through various stages of confusion, and Bridgette Mason leaned over to her friends and started whispering.
“She probably got caught banging the boys under the bleachers again,” she whispered loud enough for several people to hear her.
A few snickered, some ignored her, and Mr. Harris just gave her a pointed look, but he didn’t bother to correct her. Her daddy was rich and donated the multimillion-dollar gymnasium complete with an Olympic sized pool, indoor track, and full-sized basketball court that rivaled any colleges facilities. She was untouchable, and she knew it.
She was another thorn in my side. She’s hated me ever since my sophomore year. The year I “developed.” I was a late bloomer. The summer before my sophomore year my breasts were developed, and my butt was filled out. Back then I didn’t take great pains to cover my figure, and a lot of the guys started noticing me. One of them being Collin. A senior, captain of the football team, and a very cute guy. Also, Bridgette’s on-again, off-again boyfriend.
He was one of the guys that I felt had been genuine in his attraction, but Bridgette had ruined any chance of that by spreading rumors about me. I had been put on the radar even though I tried desperately to fly under it. Suddenly I was being harassed by her friends and anyone else that believed her lies. I had guys I never talked to propositioning me. I had people constantly talking about me. Alienating me. I had to ask them to leave me alone constantly. Collin knew Bridgette was jealous and started the rumors. He tried to stop them, but the damage had been done.
I reached the counseling center and knocked on Mr. Diesel’s door. “Come in,” he called.
I opened the door warily and stepped into the office. “You wanted to see me?”
He looked up at me with a smile. He was an older, attractive black man with a warm smile and kind eyes. “Yes, yes, Blake. Sit. Relax.” I sat down as I heard the bell for my first-class ring. He waited for it to stop before pulling out a folder from his desk. He opened it up, and I could see my name printed on the top of the first set of papers. “We’ve been looking through our seniors’ transcripts for this year, and noticed you are one of the top five contenders for valedictorian and salutatorian. We just have a few concerns and want to touch base with you.”
I nodded, not knowing a proper response to this news. I knew I was bright and caught on quickly. I purposely chose AP classes to challenge me and prove to those who doubted me that I was perfectly capable of rising above my environment. “Okay…” I finally said when I realized he was searching my expression. I’m sure he was expecting excited emotions or something more than my deadpan look. I had no desire to speak in front of an auditorium full of people at the end of the school year. I was stuck at an impasse. Did I start slacking off so I didn’t become the salutatorian or valedictorian? Would that be counterproductive for what I had been working so hard on? Instead of rising to the challenge and ensuring all my naysayers were aware of my achievements I would be bowing out, and proving to them I was cracking under pressure.
“Well, I just wanted to inform you of your standings and express our concerns on a few topics of interest. Have you applied to any colleges yet? Have you applied for any scholarships? Scholarship committees generally want to see more community and extracurricular involvement. Have you considered getting more involved?” he asked kindly.
I shrugged, looking down at my clasped hands. I wanted to let him know my situation without sharing too much. I had to deter him from prying further. “I take care of my sister, and I work. I don’t know if I have the time to get more involved, and honestly, I’m not sure I’ll feel comfortable delivering any speeches at the end of the year.” I shrugged.
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “And college? Scholarships?”
I tried to avoid his gaze and look anywhere but him. “I haven’t applied to any. I’m not sure I’m going to college yet.”
He was clearly shocked now. “If it’s money there are several options and opportunities out there. Maybe I can speak to your parents, and we can set up a plan.”
I stood up, uncomfortable with this whole conversation now. “My parents are dead. I live with my stepmom and… she works a lot. She won’t be able to make any meetings.”
He stood up with me, troubled. “I am extremely flexible with my schedule.”
“No thank you,” I said firmly.
Crap! In my efforts to prove to myself that I could rise above my circumstances I forgot about the radar I tried to fly below.
“Is there something you would like to talk about? Trouble at home?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Everything’s fine,” I muttered. “Can I go back to class now? I have a quiz to complete. Thank you for letting me know,” I added as an afterthought.
He scribbled out a hall pass reluctantly and handed it to me. “My doors are open any time if you find the need to talk.”
“Thanks,” I said quietly as I left his office.
I inwardly cursed myself as I made my way to English. I was so close to graduating and leaving this life behind. I didn’t need anyone prying into my life at this point and time.
Chapter 3
