Forever Changed

“Me too. I was supposed to graduate, but they held me back last year. Said they didn’t think I was ready for that yet. I don’t care much though, I wasn’t looking forward to graduating yet anyways. My brother’s been held back two years, so he’ll be in our class too.”

I cringe

d at the thought. He’d been held back two years? Each year it was a struggle for me to start midyear at a new school and try to keep up, but I somehow always managed to squeak by with passing grades by the end.

“Well, that’s if we all get in the same class,” I said, silently praying against the idea.

“Sure we will. There’s only sixteen seniors in the whole school. Well, seventeen now with you.”

“SEVENTEEN?” I asked shocked.

She laughed mockingly at my surprise. “Well, there’s only fifteen ninth graders, so we got them beat. The second-grade class is the most this year though, they got nineteen.”

“You mean the high school isn’t separate?” I asked, feeling a little nauseous. The woman at the welfare office did mention that I would be going to a small school, but I hadn’t given her words much thought, assuming that it would just be a smaller high school than I was used to. I never once considered this.

“Heck no, they group us all together like a herd of cattle. I’ve been going to Munford with the same group of people my whole life,” she said with an edge in her voice that made it clear she held animosity against someone.

“Ugh, so it goes all the way down to kindergarten?” I asked, shuddering at the idea. The last school I attended in California was a regular high school, so being juniors, we had been part of the bigger fish group in the pond with the guppy freshmen and sophomores beneath us. I had secretly been looking forward to being at the top of the food chain this year, but it was a little much to think there would be tiny baby guppies swimming amongst us.

“Yep, and we ain't had a new student start since Shirley McJones moved here with her family six years ago. Course, she had no problem fitting in since her father made millions in oil,” she said with the same bite in her voice.

“There’s no other school in this area?” I asked, searching for a lifeline.

“Nope, the closest schools are forty-five minutes away in Bozeman. With all the money some of the folks around here have, they could have bused us there, but noooo, they like the small feel of Munford and treat it more like a private school than a regular school. Of course, they still allow us peasants to attend,” she said snidely.

“Well, I guess I better get this stuff inside,” I said, edging toward the door, suddenly sick of all the new information I had just gained.

“Okay, well I’ll see you at school,” she said, turning on heel and shuffling away. I watched her kick at the dirt with the toe of her boot as she walked, making the loose dirt fly up and then fall back down covering her boots with a light dusting. Her shoulders seemed to slump from the weight of the large chip she obviously carried.

I gripped the handles of the duffle bag with one hand and pulled the door open with my free hand.

“What took so long?” Kevin asked as I dumped the oversized bag on the floor and sat next to him, gasping from the exertion I had used to haul everything inside.

“I met some girl that will be in my class at school,” I muttered.

“How do you know she'll be in your class?” he asked puzzled.

“Because there’s only like sixteen seniors in this whole school.”

“Sixteen?”

“Yes,” I said miserably as he started laughing.

“What are you laughing at, dweeb?” I said, a little annoyed that he found the situation funny.

“It’s-s-s ju-just f-funny. I had more kids in my class last year,” he said between his belly giggles.

“Ha-ha, keep laughing it up, punk,” I said, affectionately ruffling his hair. It was nice to see him happy again. The last month of close quarters had been intense, and the strain had definitely worn on both of us.

“KATELYN,” Lucinda yelled down the hall, making me cringe.

“Do you want me to go?” Kevin asked as I reluctantly got to my feet, looking down the hallway with trepidation.

“Nah, I got it. You watch your shows while you still have a chance.”

I slowly made my way down the hall, dreading the idea of entering “their” new space.

“Yeah?” I asked through the thin door, hoping to delay entry into the room.