One

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I dumped my worn-down black backpack onto the floor and sat down heavily into the office chair beside it, running my hands through my long blonde hair. A quick glance at the clock told me I was only two minutes late for my meeting with my guidance counselor--pretty good considering my kindergarten sister needed me to take her home during lunch because of an accident.

Mrs. Barrett glanced me over as I continued to untangle my hair. I could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on, and it was only noon.

"Are you doing all right, Evelyn?" she asked as I forced a polite smile and slumped back in my chair. I had no idea why she scheduled this meeting with me; even though I was a junior, I had never had a meeting with my assigned guidance counselor. Probably because I was so busy I ignored them, like almost everything else in my life.

I realized Mrs. Barrett was still waiting for an answer and sat up straighter. "Yes, of course, I'm fine," I said quickly.

There was a shuffling of papers, and Mrs. Barrett slid forward a folder with my name (Evelyn Caverly) on it. It had everything in there: my grades, transcripts, application essays, school history...well, almost everything. What wasn't in there was after my mom died in a car crash two years ago, my dad left suddenly a year and a half later, leaving me to care for my two little sisters and work two jobs, which explained why I didn't have time for things as trivial as guidance counselor meetings...

"Miss Caverly," said Mrs. Barrett sharply, snapping me out of my reverie just as I was beginning to make a laundry list of everything I needed to do when I got home that evening. "Thank you for deciding to show up to this meeting, instead of ignoring it as you have for the other..." She opened my folder and read a sheet of paper over the tip of her glasses. "...three."

I crossed my legs at the ankles and jiggled my feet impatiently, waiting for this newly invented torture to be over with.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here for four meetings," said Mrs. Barrett, rifling through my folder for another sheet. "Had you attended the first time, I assure you that you would not have heard anything more from me regarding the other three." She glanced up to meet my blank expression and asked, "Do you even know why you're here?"

Even though she said it with a voice of utmost impatience, as if it were perfectly obvious why I was sitting in a guidance counselor's office like something was wrong, I had no idea what was going on. Shaking my head, I said, "All I know is that I should be in biology right now."

Mrs. Barrett shook her head slowly. "It's a wonder you even know your own schedule, considering the lack of attention you've been giving your grades."

"My grades?" I asked blankly.

There was a sudden rustling of paper, and suddenly, a sheet of paper with my first semester grades was right in front of me. I pursed my lips thoughtfully as I read the black text on it--I'd been so busy I hadn't even looked at my report card this past semester...

"One C, two D's, and three F's," said Mrs. Barrett as I finished scanning the discouraging-looking letters. "Would you care to explain yourself? Your grades have been decreasing steadily since the end of your freshman year."

There was no way I could forget that Mom had passed away at the end of my freshman year--grades had therefore been pushed to the back of my mind. I had struggled towards the beginning of my sophomore year to pull them back up, but when Dad had left, everything had fallen apart again. Did Mrs. Barrett think I had time for homework and studying when I was trying to support my sisters and myself?

Then again, Mrs. Barrett didn't know. Nobody knew that Dad had left.

I didn't really know what to say in response to this declaration, so I kept silent until my counselor added, "You are clearly in some desperate need of assistance. At this rate, you won't be passing eleventh grade."

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