Easy A+

Chapter 2

Your face is like a melody
It won't leave my head.

– Lana Del Rey, Dark Paradise

. . . .

I open the lid of my laptop and log onto the website that has houses our grades. I click on the tab that says, my class title, seeing the bold 68.74 D.

Every time I open this site to see my grades, I get more and more discouraged when I see that grade plummeting with each assignment or test that comes and goes. Sure, I can do well on the assignments, but these tests trip me up. With the stress this class puts on me combined with my low mental state, my grade is reflecting poorly on that.

Wanting to get away from my horrendous grade, I open another tab as a thought pops up in my mind. Typing in Facebook, I slide my finger against the tracking pad to hover over the search bar. I type in 'Harry Styles' and go to the first profile that shows up in the list of everyone with one of those names.

A picture of Mr. Styles or I guess Harry as I have now been told to call him, stands in front of a white building wearing a white button shirt, smiling at whoever took the photo, is set as his profile picture. I glance at his friend's list to see he has 348 friends. Next, I go into his pictures and see a little girl with brown hair and bright green eyes just like his. She has a little football jersey on with cleats and knee-high socks. Her chestnut-coloured hair is French braided on both sides of her head, and she's being held up by Harry as his lips are pressed against her cheek. Her front two teeth are missing as she smiles towards the camera. He, on the other hand, is wearing a plain white t-shirt and black jeans. He looks slightly younger than he does now.

I had no idea he had a daughter.

He's never mentioned anything about her—granted, he doesn't have to tell us anything about his life as we don't share our personal information with him, either. I've never seen the other side of either desk to notice what's inside the picture frames. He's never showed signs of any relationships where the mother is involved. He doesn't wear a wedding ring, and again, I haven't taken note of the picture frames that are displayed.

Exiting out of his page, I decide to take a shower, instead, to try to relax my body from the stress and tension I've put it through today.

I carry my things back over to the bedroom and throw my stuff inside the white laundry basket, collapsing onto my bed. My phone obnoxiously vibrates on my bedside table. I groan and unlock it to view the message.

H: Meet me at the front gates. Remember, no one needs to know where you're going.

I sit up and dress in warmer clothes, slipping on some rainboots at the foot of my bed. I clutch my phone in my hand and sneak out of the door before Annie wakes up to see me. The hallway is dark considering it had been half an hour after lights out. I quickly and quietly run down the steps, and when I hear footsteps coming from the kitchen, I hide in the coat closet that's beside the staircase just as Ms. Holten, our dorm adviser, walks out in her daytime clothes and climbs the steps without making any recognition that I was down here.

When I know she's gone, I open the closet door and slip outside, making sure it's unlocked before shutting it behind me. I run across the crunchy surface of the cold, dead grass in the darkness of the night. I make it out down the gentle slopes, towards the faculty parking. I see the outline of a car outside the closed gates. I run and jump onto one of the broken stones and hop down onto the ground. Tapping my knuckles against the cool glass of the passenger window, I wait for the click of the doors to unlock. I yank the door open and sit down in the leather seat.