Kid in a Locker (REWRITING)

16. Penny Dreadful

"Miss Pryce." Mr V. says, giving me my pop quiz from two days ago. It's folded over as he gives it to me, meaning that it had a grade written on it in red pen that he didn't want the rest of the class to see. His eyes are full of concern as I take the sheet of paper, knowing that whatever I made was not what he expected of me.

I gulp as he walks away and flip the paper over. Written in a thick red circle are two numbers that make my heart sink.

Fifty-three.

Out of a ten question quiz, that wasn't entirely horrible, but it was still way below my average. By almost thirty points.

I curse to myself. After I told Nick about Ben and Hanna, I thought my nightmares and sleeplessness would disappear. Instead it was roaring in full force, warning me. Of what, I couldn't tell you. The dreams were so warped and unrealistic that I couldn't even begin to guess at what it was showing me.

My rough nights seemed to be starting to effect my waking life as well. Usually I was okay when it came to understanding schoolwork even on few hours of sleep. That was when those nights varied from one to two a week. Now that it was almost every night that it was happening, my school performance was starting to shoot down the gutter.

"What'd you get?" Romul leans over in his desk to see my quiz. I flash the face of the paper over to him. He sucks in through his teeth. "That's low for you."

"I know." I slump down into my seat, shoving the paper into the front folder of my binder with every other graded paper. The fifty- three stains the perfect folder of A and Bs. Never before had I gotten a grade so low. It sit there in between the eighties and nineties, tarnishing its integrity.

"Too bad." He shows me his paper, the top reading a solid thirty-seven. "I would kill for that grade."

I laugh, knowing what's going to happen. "Mom and Dad are going to have a field day with you."

"Not if they don't find out."

"You want me to lie?"

"Well I certainly don't want you to tell them."

"But what if they ask?"

He slams his hands down in the desk, earning the attention of half our Pre-Cal class. He quickly apologizes and then lowers his voice so only I can hear him. "Damn it, Feefee, just don't say anything."

I yawn. "Chill, man. You know I won't."

In his panic, he must have forgotten that I wouldn't tell a soul something he didn't want. All three of us were like that, protecting each others secrets even against our own parents. It usually ended in them finding out from another person and we would all get into trouble, but the lie was never covering up something too serious so our punishments were never grave. Except for that one time we took Dad's mustang for a joy ride and wrapped it around a lightpole in front of the Officer's quarters.

"Good."

Lunch cannot come soon enough. I stumble through my next class in a daze, my exhaustion and the quiz grade weighing me down. My whole body is numb as I float through the hallways and slink into my desk in Mrs. Merdock's class. She pays no mind to me slowly falling asleep as she lectures. She's most likely use to kids dozing off as she drones about history. Most days I would be alert and eager, absorbing everything there is to know about the subject. History had always been my favorite, any kind. Today I can't be bothered to even take out my notebook to act like I'm taking notes. I'm gone before the tardy bell even rings.

I wake up a little before the final bell rings to find everyone around me talking. Mrs. Merdock usually got finished teaching early which led to at least ten minutes of free time. She also allowed phones when she wasn't talking, meaning that over half of the kids were tapping away lazily on their screens.