Chapter One
"Hope Greene."
I woke from the sleep I was in at the sound of my own name.
"Hope Greene," the teacher called out again. "Hope Greene?"
"I'm here Mrs. Johnson" I called out.
"When called on you answer." She said flatly.
I was the first day of freshman year in high school and everything was going bad for me, not that it wasn't to be expected of course, since what happened last summer.
When the bell rang for lunch I was more than happy to get out of classes, until I actually realized that lunch has dramas of its own. The looks I got were not warm and not welcoming, but exactly the opposite, cold and uninviting. It was clear that I wasn't allowed to sit with anyone so I found a wall where only one boy sit, studying roman mythology. I sat there a good six feet away and stuck my headphones in my ears.
"Hello" the boy said. "Hellooo?"
He finally pulled my one of my earphones, nearly making me jump out of my skin.
"Good, Lord!" I yelled.
"I didn't me to startle you," he started. "I was just…"
I cut him off. "Like that's hard feel proud."
"Of what?" he asked
"Scaring me." I stated. "It's been happening a lot since I came here." I stopped, took a breath and realized I was confiding in a complete stranger. "What's your name again?"
"Curtis Adams." He said. "I mean I was getting there when you cut me off with your speech."
"I hardly call two sentences a speech." I said defensively. "And Hope Greene is my name, but you can call me Wish."
"Wish?" he asked
"Yeah?"
"No, I mean Wish, like how'd you get the name Wish?"
"My middle name is Melisa." I said as if it explained everything, but I soon corrected myself. "An old friend of mine, when we met her accidentally said, 'Me-wish-a', and that was that." I explained with the words to London Calling were still blasting from my earphones.
"I guess it makes since." Curtis said blankly.
What does I wanted to ask, but didn't. But, Curtis was already in my head.
"I mean a hope and a wish are pretty much the same so it would make sense your nick-name would be Wish."
"A hope and a wish are no where near the same." I answered to no one in particular, but myself.
We sat there in silence for a moment, and then Curtis stood up to face me held out his hand and barely whispered, "Hope, time to go to class."
When I walked though the door later that afternoon I was still mystified. Mystified by Curtis, mystified by how small the school was and how everyone would not even look at me when they didn't even know me. Finally, I was totally mystified by how we had to go to class when the bell hadn't even rung, but still there everyone was get their books out for chem.. Lab or algebra or history or whatever class they had next. Spooky.
"Oh, hello Hope," said Mrs. Carlson in her usual monotone voice she used with me, but this time tried to hide it with the least amount of excitement possible.
"Outcast," I heard Mallory say from the couch while flipping through the cable channels. Mrs. Carlson just looked astonished at the unkind words that came from her daughter's mouth. I however jumped right in.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I told her cheerfully. "That doesn't come on 'till nine."
Mallory shot me a look, and then turned back to the television.
"Oh, don't listen to her, Wish."
I turned around to see who said those words and saw Rachel at the other side of the room.
"She just wishes she could have done something equally exciting to get stuck in this hell-hole passing as a town."
Mrs. Carlson looked up from the salad she was chopping, but I don't think anyone noticed. Rachel walked up to next to where I was standing then excitedly waited to see how thing would unfold. Mallory on the other hand, seemed furious.
"I don't happen to think of running away from home acceptable." She said coldly.
I don't know why but at the most absurd times I will notice things that aren't exactly relevant. Like, while Mallory was in her rant I noticed all her features and how beautiful they were. She has brilliant blue eyes, perfect bone structure, and the most dazzling copper, blond hair you will ever see. It really was no wonder she got so many modeling jobs.
"He was abusing her!" Rachel shot back "What was she supposed to do?"
"She should have called the police! It's not that hard of an equation!"
I could tell Rachel was going to retort back, but I cut in first.
"Why in the world do you care so much?" I yelled with such boldness and loudness I surprised not only myself, but shocked Rachel and Mallory. "I mean it's my life, why should you care? If anyone should be mad it should be me right? My father didn't lay a hand on you, so Shut Up! And if this is because you hate me then fine, but I don't see why you do."
Mallory just stood there stunned, while I think Rachel looked slightly proud. For the sake of argument I added whispering softly into Mallory's ear "You are said to be kind to everyone so I'd appreciate the same courtesy extended to me."
The next day when I was getting ready for school I was interrupted by a knock at my door.
"Hi," said Rachel. "So what do you think?" Rachel twirled in front of me showing of a pale pink sweater with a plunging neck line, a pair of dark jeans, somewhat scuffed penny-loafers, and to top it all off she curled her dark brown hair. All of which made her round face and deep sea green eyes pop.
"Wow," I said. "You look great, but could you find a lower v-neck shirt?"
She shot me a look before saying, "You well, look amazing! Though, you could do something with you hair." I hardly thought I looked amazing. My very, dark brown hair was in a low ponytail which was how I always wore it showing off my round face, pale brown eyes, fair skin, and pale pink lips. I was wearing a denim skirt which came three inches above the knee. I also donned a sparking white tank top with glitter woven though it paired with a tan suede jacket to tone it down, with a pair of gold cork wedges.
"By the way," I whispered to Rachel as we walked down the hall to breakfast, "Thanks for defending me last night."
"Hey what are best friends for?" she replied then said in a solemn voice, "Okay, I know pretty much every one is against you at that school, but don't let it get to you."
I nodded respectively as she said this.
"Oh, I only wish I could be there." She sighed. "I mean with you so you didn't have to face this town alone, but my parents had to pop me out a year after you."
As we walked into the kitchen for breakfast everyone was staring at us. I looked over at Mr. Carlson who was usually on my side, but he only casually shrugged as in meaning that I was in for it later today. Rachel and I sat down to eat with 14-year-old Mallory (same age as me), 10-year-old Jack, 3-year-old Natalie, and Mr. and Mrs. Carlson. As seeing this family I always thought how lucky they were to have such a wonderful, loving family, but on the other hand I found it sad that they could not have any children of their own. (All except for me, because of legal reasons, were adopted in this family.) We sat their strangely for only a moment before Mrs. Carlson began to open her mouth to speak, but I was on my feet.
Before she could say anything I started talking fast, saying, "You know I really should go to school early to pick out a book for a new history report so I should go." And before anyone knew I was out the door and walking to school.
It was cold, really cold for an autumn day. I would be an hour early for school, but I was sure I could find something to do. When I first walked into the building it seemed dead until I reached the right wing of the school. The first thing that hit me was the fresh smell of strong, brewed coffee and newly baked muffins that made me realize I was starving since I hadn't eaten breakfast. I walked though what I assumed was the teacher's lounge and learned you can't escape staring and judgments, not even among teachers. I just smiled and pointed to a paper on the board out side the door to see where the library was. I scrolled with my finger down the sign until I found the library, (down the hall and make a right.) when I felt cold fingers on my back which made me jump and heard a voice say, "I think you should come with me."
I walked down a long corridor the school consular behind me still holding my shoulders guiding me to her office. In her words "there were some matters we had to discuss." I still didn't turn around no matter what she said I would just nod and keep walking, no way was this worth avoiding a fight. When we turned into her office, it was dark and dreary until she turned the lights on and then it was a comforting mess. She gestured for me to sit down and when I did I sat on maybe the least comfortable chair ever. She obviously reading my mind poured me some coffee and held out a muffin to me. I took them both gratefully, but as soon as she started talking I wished I could give them back.
"Well," she said taking a bite of her muffin. "I might as well start with the easy question." She paused sipping her coffee as if waiting for me to answer. "Why are you here so early? And don't say you had homework because I've been working at this school for 22 years and no one has ever given out homework on the first day."
22 years I thought how old would that make you? Time to get a life huh? And thank you for taking my alibi.
"Well, nothing big you know just the usual." I lied
"How so?" she asked.
"How so, what?"
"How so what is your usual nothing big?" She repeated patiently.
"I'd rather not discuss this, the inner most workings of my personal life." I
Said actually quite rudely, but the councilor as I learned her name was Ms.
Bluefield didn't see to notice.
"Okay then why are you here?"
"Where," I asked even though I knew the answer. I just had to keep talking or I wouldn't talk at all."Here, West Bridge, or all of Minnesota for that matter."
"Well," I whispered as if saying it in a normal voice would make it all happen again. "I ran away from my father. He was abusive. After my mom died he started abusing us. We lived in New York."
"Us?" she asked. It was a fair question, though I didn't want to answer it.
"My sister, Madison and I."
"What happened to her?"
"We just woke up one morning about 2 years ago and she was gone. All of her stuff was gone too so we assumed she ran away."
"Wow," she said as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I'm really sorry."
"Don't be," I told her. "You didn't do anything."
We talked for over 2 hours and I skipped two classes. She wrote me a note and as I left her office I knew I had made a friend.
While I was on my way to third period I heard Curtis walk up beside me.
"For a girl who was here so early, who knew she could be so late." He teased.
"I was in the consular's office."
"What for," He asked.
"What for! God, I can't believe you'd ask that. I mean don't play dumb. What for? I swear."
"Why?"
"Because I'm a runaway! Smart-one."
"I didn't know that." He said as if to assure me he didn't.
"You haven't heard all the stories about me?"
"Well, yeah, but…"
"If you knew why did you ask?" I demanded.
"Well," he cleared his throat. "Do you believe everything you hear?"
"No, but…" I trailed off.
"Good. We have come to an understanding."
We walked in silence if only for a moment, before he asked, "So you like to clash?"
"Excuse me?" I said, looking down at my outfit. I didn't think it clashed.
Curtis let out a laugh I was sure the whole school could hear.
"The Clash," he clarified. "The clash as in the band."
"Oh, yeah, right." I said relieved. "But how did you…"
"It was practically blaring from your Ipod yesterday."
"Oh, did I have the volume up that high? I don't usually, but the silence was just so…."
"Deafening." He finished for me.
"Yeah," I said. I felt my self smile, but I quickly bit it back. "Why are you talking to me?" I asked.
"What?" He replied looking confused.
"I mean I'm the talk of the school and you're talking to me. Plus," I added "You barley know me we are talking like old friends."
"Well, he said I don't care what other people think."
"Huh? Really, because I thought the most popular people in the school had to care what people think."
He looked embarrassed for only a moment, and then he questioned me. "Oh, ye of little faith is that what you think all popular people are like?"
"Well, no." I said embarrassed for ever bringing it up. "But that still doesn't answer my question."
"What Question?" He asked flatly. "I thought this conversation was over."
"The one I asked about us being friends." I replied seriously.
"Well, I want to be your friend. It's a reasonable request. I mean we both could use some friends and you seem interesting."
"Fine" I said shaking my head not believing he needed friends.
"I could use some loyal, not bone-head kind of friends." He answered as if knowing what I was thinking.
I nodded my head as an understanding and declared that we should go to class.
He nodded as a response and added, "See you at lunch. Wish."
I went though American History and Geometry and could only think of him. Through the rambling words of Mrs. Callahan and Ms. Tabatha I managed to take notes and stay somewhat alert, but still thinking about him, but not as in cute (he was extremely good looking), but as in I have a friend in this school. Having a friend is a wonderful feeling just wonderful.
The bell for lunch rang and before anyone could tell I was out of the classroom and putting my geometry books in my locker when a note fell out and it said.
Dear Hope,
I'm sorry I can't meet you for lunch today. Something came up. Sorry I'll miss it at least you can now think of something to argue about later. Watch out for the broccoli soup today last year five people threw up from it last year. And don't sit by the growing up girls club they're trouble. You'll know them when you see them. Good luck on your English test today and take notes for me in advanced Chem. I'll most likely be back tomorrow. My grandmother is in the hospital. It happens a lot, but she likes us there. See you soon.
Your brand new friend,
Curtis A.
As I read this I happened to notice that Curtis doesn't have good penmanship. Oh, well there goes what I've been waiting for the past 2 hours might as well get lunch.
Curtis was right to say stay away from the broccoli. It was neon green more green than humanly possible. Actually, not a lot of things on the lunch bar looked all that appetizing. I finally decided upon a PB&J sandwich. As I was walking to my wall I saw a bunch of red lipstick, gossiping girls and figured they were the group Curtis was talking about. They all looked my way and had dirty looks on their faces, but they looked away apparently already picking on someone else.
"You are such an idiot." I heard one girl say in a voice that sounded like it came from a three- year- old.
"Jesus I mean you don't have to leave the house looking like an ogre." Said another with a much deeper voice.
"Why don't you just leave her alone!" I heard myself say with a lot more force than intended.
"And just who are you?" asked one girl with a black and white halter top.
"I know!" The girl with the 3-year-old voice replied for me. "You're that chick who ran away to here. God, knows why you ran here."
"I ran out of money." I grunted under my breath.
"Well, what does she have to do with you?" Demanded a girl who was pointing to the girl who was being teased.
"She happens to be a human being or are you blind." I pointed out with pride.
The Growing up Girls Club looked stunned at my rudeness, but I didn't care. I walked over to the girl and took her by the hand and led her away from those girls. Once we got to my wall, I motioned for her to sit down and gave her half of my disgusting sandwich and we ate.
"Thanks for getting me out of that bind." She said a few minutes later.
"No Problem," I said assuring her. "Those girls are total jerks and don't even know them so if I'm willing to judge before know it's a big deal."
"They're always like that." She told me as if it were nothing.
"It's not nothing." I said flatly.
She eyed me carefully while taking a bite of her sandwich. She clearly was thinking it was nothing.
"Well," she said, "We clearly have a physic in town."
"Oh, I didn't mean to leave that impression I mean just by the way you…"
"It was a joke." She laughed
"Oh, sorry," I said shamefully.
"It's okay apparently it's hard to tell with me."
"Well, at least your humor isn't as blunt as mine."
"Well, that's nice." She said smiling. "Okay I don't want to seem rude, but I've heard stories about you and just want to know the truth."
"Promise not to judge 'til the very end?" I asked.
"Promise," she agreed.
"Fine I'm a runaway." I waited for her to react, but she didn't she was just waiting patiently for the story. "My father was abusive." I felt her looking at me now. "And I really didn't have a reason to stay you know? I mean with my mom dead and sister already gone, there was nothing to stop my dad from hitting me and nothing from me and anywhere else,"
"Why'd you come here?" she asked.
"Well, I guess that's a fair question so I'll answer it. I ran out of money. Seriously, 2000 dollars can only get you so far."
She seemed genuinely interested and slightly disappointed when I stopped.
"So runaway, huh?" she repeated as if was only a one time thing.
"Yeah," I said.
"Huh?" she answered.
She didn't seem to make a big deal of this and I loved that. I smiled and she knew I was either pleased or confused. She just shrugged her shoulders and started eating her half of the sandwich again.
"So," I said stupidly.
"So, indeed," she repeated with as much stupidity.
"So, how did you get here?" Right after I said I realized it was dumb, she was probably just born here. Though, like she had already she surprised me.
"I was adopted. Though not like most people are." She stopped hoping I would let her, but I just kept watching. "I was adopted because I was a runaway, in a likewise situation as you, and was caught somewhere along the border of New York." I turned my head. When she said New York I realized that she was the only person, other than the people in the Carlson house, who didn't have an accent. "I was sent to a facility for runaway teens and was adopted by a family here."
"Wow," I said. "You've been through a lot."
"Yeah," she said blankly, "I have."
I stood up and extended a hand to her. She took it delicately and I pulled her up with strength I had never used before. We stood there for a minute until she held out her hand to me.
"Hi, Madison Davis," she said.
I took her arm and shook it. "Hope, Hope Greene."
