AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Say what now?
I blink, not quite sure I heard her right.
“School,” I reply blankly, not expecting that.
She nods. “I checked with your tutors to see where you’re at, and you’re not as far behind as I thought.” She smiles. “You’d be a senior.”
“A senior,” I repeat, testing the word out, like it’s something foreign. So only one year behind…
“Just think, you’d get to go to prom, you’d get to walk across a stage to receive your diploma…” Her voice trails off with a sort of pointedness I’m not quite sure I understand.
I mean, hypothetically, I do. Hypothetically is how I understand most things.
Mouth dry, all I can do is stare at her as she starts talking again, her voice pitching with excitement as she starts going on and on about all the things I never thought I’d have. But I only half-listen, daring not to hope too hard.
High school.
Prom.
Graduation.
Things I only ever got to see in movies and read about in books.
When I knew I’d be here until I turned eighteen, I just figured I’d be too old for all that stuff by the time I got out.
“Walter already spoke with the Dean—it’s a prep school, so they have one of those—and the guidance counselor, and they’re willing to…try,” she says gently, if not a little pointedly as she tilts her head meaningfully. “You’ve improved so much this last year. It’s been so long since you’ve gotten yourself into trouble.”
Images flash across my head of all the times I got thrown into the pit because I lost my cool. Not that I really remember much. Sometimes things just get a little fuzzy, and when I come to, there just so happens to be…blood. Sometimes a lot.
I shudder.
“Aston.”
My eyes snap open. I didn’t even realize I closed them again.
Oopsie.
Tillie eyes me warily.
Clearing my throat, I give her a small, demur nod. “I’m fine, I just…” Shaking my head, I scrape around for the words I want. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to go to high school.” I even get my voice to crack for good measure.
Her features soften, her gaze turning far less worried, and more sad. Bingo. “Well, then this is your chance to see how the other half live. Trust me, you’ll probably realize it’s not all it’s chalked up to be.” She laughs a little at that.
Ignoring her, I simply ask, “And if I’m bad?”
Her smile fades just as quick as it came, and she doesn’t say anything right away.
Dipping my gaze, I watch her swallow, and for a second, I see it. That fear. That deep, ingrained knowing. But she’s quick to shove it away with her usual cheery optimism. Whether it’s out of sheer stubbornness or sheer stupidity, I can never tell. And I’ll probably never have the balls to ask.
“This is your only chance,” she says, an unmistakable gravity to her words, almost like a warning. It belies the bright smile still plastered across her pale, round face.
And I know she’s not just talking about high school, but my future in general.
Tillie might have hope for me still, but I think we both know she only sees what she wants to. And I don’t have it in me to ruin that. I don’t have it in me to be selfless enough to warn her, to make her see what deep down she knows to be true.
That I’m broken.
That I’m not good.
