Read Wishing For Someday Soon Page 4


  “Do you need me to do anything else before I head off for class?”

  “Actually, would you mind walking these new students to their classes? Kevin here should be in Ms. Davis’s class and let’s see, oh, and Katelyn will be in Mr. Graves’s class with you. Well, that makes it easy,” she said, shooting a smile my way.

  “Sure, no prob,” he said, turning to Kevin and me. “Ready?”

  “Yeah,” Kevin said enthusiastically.

  “Um, sure,” I answered, looking back at Lucinda who was busy filling out our registration papers. Part of me was anxious to flee in case she did anything else embarrassing, while another part of me wanted to stay so I could try to keep her in line and out of trouble.

  Kevin and Max made the decision for me by heading out into the hallway beyond the front office.

  “This way is the elementary section,” Max said, walking us down a wide hallway painted a warm sunshine yellow. Doorways lined the hall with floor to ceiling double glass walls that broke up the space in between the doorways, giving a bird’s eye view of the landscape beyond the building.

  “The building is simple enough,” Max explained as we walked. The very last classroom down this hall is kindergarten and it opens up onto the playground. Next to that is the first grade class, then the second grade class, and so on. We get the other side of the building, and ours opens up to the basketball hoops and ski trails we use.”

  “Ski trails?” I asked puzzled.

  “Yeah. During November, December, and January they take us out cross-country skiing all the time for P.E.”

  “Wow! Me too?” Kevin asked happily.

  “Yep, you too, buddy. It’s kind of a school rule. You have to have a really good doctor’s note to get out of it.

  “Why would you want to?” Kevin asked, clearly confused.

  “Oh believe me, there’s plenty of times you don’t feel like going out and freezing you’re a... butt,” he said, quickly correcting himself.

  “Oh you can say ass, I hear it all the time.”

  “Kevin!” I said, shooting him a warning look.

  “Oops, sorry, Katelyn,” he said, looking instantly remorseful. He knew speaking about our home life with others was taboo.

  Max looked at us puzzled, but I ignored him.

  “So, is this Kevin’s class?” I asked, pointing to the door we had stopped in front of.

  “Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, this is Ms. Davis’s class,” he answered, pulling the door open so we could enter.

  Kevin’s teacher, Ms. Davis, was busy writing on the dry erase board that lined the front of the classroom. She was barely five foot tall and I wouldn’t say she was chunky, she just looked more round than if she would have been a foot taller. She did have cute, short blonde hair that was cut in a flattering style that framed and enhanced her face. Her most striking attribute was her blue eyes which seemed to sparkle like the ocean would if the sun was hitting it.

  She looked over as the three of us entered the room.

  “Ms. Davis, this is Kevin and his sister Katelyn,” Max said, introducing us.

  “It’s a pleasure to have you Kevin,” she said, bustling over to us as her hips knocked into the desks in the front row. “We’re going to have a fun and entertaining year together,” she said in a warm bubbling voice that instantly put Kevin at ease.

  I smiled in relief, feeling comfortable that Kevin would be in good hands. Glancing around his room, I was almost envious that I couldn’t stay when I saw the inviting interactive centers that were spaced around the room, including a comfy book nook that sat in the far corner surrounded by books and comfortable throw pillows.

  “Okay punk, I'll see you after school,” I said affectionately, giving Kevin a light tap on the arm before Max and I left the room.

  “This school's something else,” I said to Max after a few awkward moments of silence.

  “Yeah, I guess it's nice here, but aren’t all schools pretty much like this?” Max asked.

  “Really?" I asked sarcastically. "Try not at all. Do you ever watch TV?”

  “Sure, but if I believed everything I saw on TV there'd be vampires and werewolves running around everywhere,” he said, shooting me another one of his dimpled smiles.

  “True,” I said grinning, forgetting that I was supposed to be keeping my distance from him. “But at least they’re not bad to look at,” I teased.

  He threw his head back and laughed. “You got me there,” he said when he finally stopped laughing.

  “So, how do you guys survive out here so far from any fast food places or movie theaters?”

  “Well, there’s a McDonald’s about fifteen miles up the road, off the main highway. Movies, on the other hand, are another story. It has to be a real blockbuster for us to make the long drive to the city. Usually, we'll all hang out at my house or my buddy Clint’s. We both have big TVs so it’s all cool.”

  “Hmmm,” I said a bit skeptically.

  “Trust me, you can come hang with us sometime and see,” he said as he stopped in front of a door at the opposite end of the long hallway. “Ta-da, this is us,” he said, enthusiastically opening the door.

  Max held the door wide open so I could step into the brightly, lit, room. All sound suddenly evaporated as every eye in the room pivoted toward us. I forced myself to keep from staring uncomfortably at the floor, trying not to look too embarrassingly flush as I felt everyone studying me like a lab rat. Being new was an old hat for me.

  “Making your own hours, Maxwell?” the teacher asked good-naturedly, breaking the silence.

  Max laughed, “Nah, not this time. Mrs. Johnson asked me if I would take Katelyn here and her brother to their classes,” Max said coolly, obviously sharing a good rapport with the teacher.

  “Katelyn is it? Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to our crazy class,” he said, spreading his hands out to indicate the students who were sitting behind their desks throughout the room.

  “Um, thanks,” I said, responding to his laid back demeanor. He reached out to shake my hand, and I couldn’t help returning his welcoming smile. He instantly eased my tension, which was a rarity for me on the first day of school. Perhaps it was the kind laugh lines in the corners of his eyes or the plentiful amount of grey hairs lining his head, beard and mustache, but something about him instantly engaged me.

  “How about you share a desk with—" he paused as he scanned the room. "Rebecca, just until we can get you one of your own from the storage room. Rebecca, raise your hand so Katelyn can join you,” he said, pointing out a tall girl in the back of the room. “Clint, do me a favor and grab Katelyn my desk chair for now.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Graves,” a curly, blond haired kid answered, shooting a cocky grin my way as he passed.

  None of this was new territory for me. The way we moved, Kevin and I usually attended at least three schools a year. I was used to being gawked at on my arrival, but I was beginning to realize this time would be way different since the school was so small.

  “Here you go,” he said, setting my chair down next to the pretty girl the teacher had indicated.

  “Hi, I’m Rebecca,” the girl next to me said, introducing herself.

  “Katelyn,” I said, shooting her a shy smile.

  “That’s Alicia and Shirley,” she said, pointing to the two girls who were sitting at the desk on each side of us.

  “Hi,” I said, scoping them out. Their designer clothes and handbags clued me in that they obviously had money, and were probably part of the popular crowd here.

  “Alright girls, introductions for the rest of the class will have to wait until later. We have a date with Ms. Higgins,” Mr. Graves said, mysteriously holding up a book I had never seen before.

  Confused, I looked around to see if the rest of the class had their own copies, assuming the book he held was part of our course reading.

  “Katelyn, I just started this book earlier this week, but you should be able to catch up with the storyline easily enoug
h,” Mr. Graves said, sitting down on a tall stool at the front of the room.

  Before I could begin to catalog my astonishment, he began to read from the book he held in his hand. Looking around, I saw all the students watching him with rapt attention. It had been years since I had seen a teacher read out loud to the class, and I was instantly captivated at the idea. Sitting back in my temporary seat, I let myself forget everything but the words that were being read aloud to us. His voice was rich and his pronunciation of the words made the pages come alive. I was soon wrapped up completely in the mystery of the story and silently encouraged him to read faster.

  All too soon, he closed up the book and it was time for us to move on to our next subject. I was grossly disappointed to see him put the book aside, but as the day wore on, I realized that in every subject he taught, he exhibited the same engaging attitude that made you want to pay attention to everything he said.

  The morning quickly passed as we moved through lessons in English and science. Thanks to the friendliness of Rebecca and her friends, I didn’t feel nearly as lost as I normally did on a first day of class. Before I knew it, it was lunch time.

  “Don’t we go to the cafeteria?” I asked as Rebecca and her friends pushed their desks together.

  “No, we don’t have a cafeteria,” Alicia, one of Rebecca’s friends said wishfully. “I wish we did though, it seems like it would be kinda fun. We could have, like, a salad bar with everything on it,” she bubbly continued.

  “Trust me, you’re not missing out,” I said as they looked at me skeptically. “No seriously, they’re always crazy loud, overly crowded and depending what the cook is making, the smells don’t usually mix well with a bunch of kids all crammed into one space.”

  Everyone around me busted out laughing, making me flush at the sudden attention I was getting.

  “Seems like you’ve had plenty of experience,” Max said as he and the blond guy, Clint, and another tall guy, whose name I didn’t know pushed their desks up against the backside of ours, creating a rectangular shaped table.

  “Oh yeah, you could say that,” I said lightly, not delving into just how much experience I did have with different cafeterias.

  After that, the conversation around our makeshift table flowed light and easy as my new friends peppered me with questions about my last school. I kept my answers humor-filled and centered them on the last school I had attended in California. Once I mentioned it was in California, they were instantly star struck. I didn’t bother to point out that the state was huge and the section we lived in was far removed from where a star would ever visit, let alone live. Their questions ran the gamut between stars they hoped I had met, all the way down to the mild temperatures I had enjoyed while living there.

  In between answering their questions, I scanned the room subtly and saw the girl I had met the previous day with her brother sitting together eating lunch. Both were watching the group I was eating with intensely, and I smiled at both of them when our eyes met. Bethany frowned slightly at my smile and her brother Matt merely grunted and looked down at the table as he resumed eating his sandwich.

  “Don’t mind him,” Rebecca said quietly, not missing the exchange. “He's got a chip on his shoulder since the school keeps holding him back. He was supposed to graduate with my brother two years ago, but had to repeat tenth and eleventh grade.”

  “That’s what his sister told me yesterday. Are the classes here that hard?” I asked nonchalantly, like it really didn’t matter.

  “Not really, the teachers are really great. Usually, if you don’t get something, they're pretty good about spending extra time helping pull you through,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

  My first big shock of the day came once lunch was over. I watched the other students around me grabbing their math and world history books once the desks were back in their rightful places.

  “Where are we going?” I asked Rebecca, grabbing my purse and hoodie off the back of my chair.

  “We rotate to other classes for math and history,” she explained. “We go to Mrs. Glenn’s class first for history, and her tenth graders go to Mr. Hanson for math, while his eleventh graders come in here for science with Mr. Graves,” she continued.

  “That’s kind of kooky,” I said, not overly crazy about meeting a new teacher just when I had gotten comfortable where I was.

  “It’s not bad. Both Mrs. Glenn and Mr. Hanson are nice. They decided to rotate us like this five years ago when bussing us to a high school in another town was vetoed. I guess they figured they'd switch us around to give us a rough idea of what regular high schools are like.”

  “I guess,” I said reluctantly, understanding their logic.

  “Don’t worry, they’re cool,” Max said, joining me on my other side.

  “Sure, sure, that’s what they always say before they feed you to a bunch of sharks,” I quipped.

  Max laughed at my words. “Nah, not sharks, maybe barracudas,” he said, grinning widely. “Kidding," he teased, nudging me. "Trust me, it’d be more like feeding you to lambs. Mrs. Glenn is super nice, especially since she and Mr. Hanson hooked up and tied the knot last year.”

  “Seriously?” I asked, wondering if it was some big school scandal or something.

  “Yeah, they started dating right after Mr. Hanson transferred here like two years ago and got married this past summer. It was a beautiful wedding with the loveliest lavender tulips everywhere,” Alicia said, sighing like only a girl would when discussing a wedding.

  “So you went?” I asked, completely floored that the teachers and students seemed to intermingle.

  “Heck yeah we went. They wouldn’t have even started dating if it wasn’t for us,” Clint said in the same somewhat cocky tone I was beginning to associate with him.

  “That’s crazy, I couldn’t imagine a teacher from my old school ever inviting a student anywhere, let alone a wedding,” I said as we strolled into our history class as a group.

  They laughed at my words as they found their desks, leaving me once again as the odd person out with no place to sit. Mrs. Glenn proved to be as sweet as promised and quickly found me a chair and encouraged me to sit wherever I felt comfortable. I settled back with Rebecca who seemed to have no problem sharing with me.

  History class moved along rapidly and soon we were on our way to math. Everyone being so nice helped my nervous anxiety which seemed to be subsiding more and more as the day progressed. I was happy to see that catching up this time around wouldn’t be nearly as hard as the last few times had been. We’ve moved so often that every time I start at a new school, I’m always behind. The teachers are hit and miss. Most of the time they’re patient and do what they can to help me catch up, but there are always those that couldn’t seem to care less, like it’s my fault I don’t know what I’m supposed to know. I put in the work though, and usually even manage to get my grades up to B’s and C’s, which is about the time when Lucinda decides it’s time to move on again, and then it’s good-bye school for another couple of months.

  My new confidence level however, nose-dived not two minutes into the math lesson when the teacher proceeded to write algebraic equations on the board for us to solve.

  Moving around so much affected my so-called math skills more than anything, and if I had an arch nemesis, that was it. The past couple of years I’d barely scraped by, taking the most basic math the school would offer. I was fine the simple stuff, but once fractions and algebra were brought into the picture, I broke out in hives.

  I sank down in my seat as everyone in the class quickly got to work on the problems written on the board. I pulled out my own notebook and doodled in the margin, giving the illusion that I was busily working through the problems. I tried to will the hands on the clock to move as rapidly as they had in the previous classes. Obviously, it wasn’t my day for wishes though, because the minute hand continued its painstakingly slow journey around the oversized dial. Finally giving up on my doodling, I studied the problems on
the board, writing them out carefully in my notebook so the page would at least have something on it. I could feel Mr. Hanson’s eyes on me, but I kept my nose buried, trying to make sense of the problems that may as well have been written in Chinese. Moving them from the board to my paper didn’t help the situation. I stared at the letters A, B and X mingling with numbers, without having a clue how to solve them.

  Rebecca, Max and another girl whose name I had forgotten, all finished the problems and I watched as they tore the pages from their notebooks and put them in the basket on the teacher’s desk. They went right to work on the homework assignment that was listed on the far corner of the dry erase board. Fifteen minutes later, only six of us were still working on the problems from the board. Not wanting to draw anymore unnecessary attention to myself, I tore my own page with its unanswered questions from my notebook. I slowly made my way to the front of the class with a knot the size of Canada in my stomach, placing my paper upside down in the basket. Mr. Hanson looked at me questioningly before giving me a small smile and I turned, hurrying back to my seat without looking back.

  Class ended a few minutes later. I gratefully closed my book and surged to my feet, anxious to flee. My new friends surrounded me as we made our way toward the classroom door.

  “Katelyn, can you stay behind for a moment?” Mr. Hanson asked, standing by the door.

  “Sure,” I answered carelessly for my friends’ benefit. Inside I was mortified, knowing I hadn’t fooled him. What if he wanted to tell me I didn’t belong in the twelfth grade and thought I should be moved down? Then I’d be stuck here with Bethany and her brother Matt, all in a contest to see who could stay in high school the longest.

  “I couldn’t help noticing you seemed to be struggling with the problems on the board,” Mr. Hanson said, sitting casually on the edge of his desk.

  “Yeah, sorry, math’s not exactly my forte."

  “Were the problems just too hard, or do you not get them at all?” he probed.