Richman High

Prologue

I could always hear that high-pitched ringing early in the morning. But every time I get myself out of bed, it would turn into nothing. Literally, I would hear nothing on one ear and the other ear would be perfectly fine. It was like a hollow block of wood, but I would be trapped inside my own head. In a messed up way, I found comfort in the silence. Being deaf had its perks; if my Mom would continuously blab on and on about whatever she was talking about, I would turn my head around, wait for my senses to disconnect and I wouldn't have to listen to the most infuriating voice on earth.

That being said I love my Mom but I'm almost twenty-three and I still live with her. People my age would've gotten their life together by now but things didn't work out as I expected and now I'm an aspiring high school teacher who is trying to save enough money to have a cochlea implant but is downright poor. Not poor-poor but I earn enough to get by. And it's good, don't get me wrong but having a hearing aid has made people act differently around me.

I did get my life together a year ago but things fell apart for me and I was completely and utterly content with my life up until I left him that altar.

"Kenna, a friend of mine just called and offered you a position at his school."

"Which friend?" I ask in a monotone voice.

"Matthew Simmons."

My wicked grin pops out, "Oh, that friend."

"Will you be quiet? You're going to take the job and you're going to become a wonderful English teacher." My Mom made the decision for me.

I can speak proper English, it's not delayed and people can clearly understand me. From the day I took my first breath I could hear properly but when I turned four, I slowly started to lose my ability to hear. At the time I didn't know the difference but my Mom did when I didn't respond to her calls. I've had a hearing aid for most of my life; it's obvious that a cochlea implant is the next step but I need a job and a steady income for that.

"Is he the principle? What school?"

"Yes" Mom took her mug to the kitchen, "Richman High."

Richman High? Out off all schools it had to be that one?

"No," I say with a tone of certainty.

Mom's expression was shock, "Why not?"

"Mom, we live in Seattle. There are other schools I can go to. Tell Mr Simmons, it was kind of him to offer me a position at his school but I'll decline."

"Please, Kenna. Don't be stupid, take the job." Mom begs with her beautiful brown eyes.

"No." I repeat, now determined to drill it into her mind. I don't know why, but I have a bad feeling about this school.

"Why not? Why don't you like that school?" Mom turns the stove off to face me. "A few years back, you said that was a nice private school to teach."

Richman High. An all boys' private high school that facilitated all the needs a young teenaged boy could ever want. It wasn't like any other normal high school; it was a personal bachelor pad for young boys to join for six years until they enter the real world and continue their bachelor ways. Think of a school prepping young boys to become assholes for the later years of their life. Not to mention my ex-fiancé being one of the graduates there.

"Please, Kenna. Take the job. You've been job searching for a while now. Matthew has been kind enough to offer you this job." Mom was close to sounding like a child.

"Mom-"

I know, the deep down Mom had my best interests at heart but working at Richman High is confronting as hell. Who would want that? Arrogant children of wealthy families being taught by an average, plain woman like me? Mom's interest was for me to have what I truly wanted, the implant. And to do that, I would have to work. I hate this part.