One week into my new job, and I suddenly had no idea why I chose high school…I was a seventeen year old boy once, I knew how teenage girls behaved.
You can’t even imagine the hell of trying to teach thirty, hormonal driven seventeen year olds who have been cooped up, away from any male contact.
I could handle the whispers every time I entered the room. I could even handle the obvious attempts at gaining my attention. What I couldn’t handle was her…
Rich bitches and way too many rules. Was it any wonder that I hated school?
Add to that the lack of male contact, and I was going insane. Like literally. I wasn’t used to this. A year ago I was normal. I had a boyfriend, friends and a loving family. There is nothing normal about me anymore, and nobody here lets me forget that.
My name is Wrenn, and I’m only here because my aunt took me in after what happened, but my aunt also happens to be the headmistress of this academy…Can you see my problem?
I’m hated for my lack of money, and I’m hated for who my Aunt is.
Then he arrived. Dalton Reed. My new history teacher.
Slowly, he helped me see that even in the worst situations, there is always hope.
Andy and I had been best friends since we were eight-years old.
Watching him slowly fade away, ever closer to his final breath, made
me so incredibly angry. I knew there was nothing I could do to change it--I had given in to despair, but Andy had not. He had one last hand to play.
He wasn't going to simply sit back and wait for Death to claim him--not Andy. He was going to live life until he couldn't hold his eyes open any longer.
Andy didn't want to die in some sterile hospital and asked me to take him and Emily to the beach. It would be our last road trip together.
Emily. Emily was a problem for me.
I harbored a secret that would have torn our friendship apart. I was in love with Andy's girl, and had been since she'd walked into our sixth grade class, so many years ago.
So what kind of person am I? My best friend is dying, and it's
awful--but my heart still aches for his girl. I hate myself for
thinking beyond Andy's death and whether there could ever be a future for Emily and I, but I can't help it.
I'm in love with her.
When she's not writing, she can usually be found looking for something to read.