We're At It Again ✔️

Tᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ

Hudson

I bounce my leg up and down, glaring at the annoyingly ticking clock on the wall. I wish I could pull out a cigarette to blow the anxiety out, but that seems an inappropriate thing to do in the guidance counselor's office. I glance around the room, concerned by Ms. Patterson's obsession with sloths. Everywhere I look, a sloth is covering every inch of the room. It seems she's the one that needs guidance. I look at the ceramic sloth on her desk, its eyes piercing into my skull. I move my head back and forth, but its eyes seem to follow. I glare at it before reaching over to turn it around.

"It's rude to stare." I mentally scold myself for talking to a ceramic sloth.

The door opens and I hurriedly regain my cool composure. I lean back in the seat with crossed arms.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." Ms. Patterson replies with a cheerful grin.

She's also too cheerful.

"Am I in trouble?" I don't miss a beat.

"It depends how you define trouble." She sits across from me. "It has been brought to my attention that you haven't applied to any colleges."

How did I not see this coming?

"Is there any reason?" She presses. "Are you not certain what you want to do?"

"I know what I want to do." I shrug. "College isn't it."

"Mr. Wilder, I'm sure you're well aware of the importance of college." She folds her hands together.

"I'm aware." I nod. "I'm just not interested."

She gazes at me like a mother gazes at a child that just drew all over the walls with crayons.

"Will you at least reconsider?" She pleads. "Your grades guarantee you a spot at any college of your choice. I'd hate to see a bright young mind go to waste."

No, but I will say yes if it gets me out of this office.

"Of course, I will." She doesn't believe me, but her eyes show she's in a losing battle.

She doesn't speak but her face is evident she is done with this useless conversation. I bolt out the door and out of the office. I catch my breath the second I enter the boisterous hallway.

"Hey, Hudson." I stiffen at the familiar voice, glancing to my left to find Stacy timidly standing a few feet away.

"Hey." I swiftly reply before glancing all around the hallway to strategically plan my escape.

"How have you been?"

"Fantastic."

I may seem to come off as rude, but avoiding her is for the best. If we don't speak, I can't hurt her feelings anymore. My saving grace comes in the form of Luna as I spot her at her locker.

"I will talk to you later." I tell Stacy before shoving through the crowd.

"You won't believe what just happened," I speak up once I'm next to her, however, the solemn look on her face makes me forget what I was about to say. "What's wrong with you?"

She slams her locker with a sigh.

"I saw Cynthia this morning." She groans.

"What a way to start the week." I cringe. "What did she want?"

"She told me I need to publicly apologize to her, or I'm off the cheer team."

I scoff, not at all surprised by her ridiculous demand. Cynthia has always had a dictator mentality.