Focus

The Truth Is Out. Sort Of.

Christmas break flies by - uncomfortable holiday family dinners and forced smiles are soon followed by January, then February. School is going fine. I've almost forgotten the incident from formal because I've been so busy, and Calum and the boys have recently become my closest friends - hanging out and seeing each other around school has become the norm for us. They're so relaxed and I talk to them about everything. For the most part, they're down to try new things almost all the time, which is refreshing because I don't normally step out of my comfort zone. Also, college applications are approaching, which is really starting to worry me; I've given no thought to my future before this year and listening to everyone else talk about their plans is somewhat discouraging. As I walk down the hallway during my off period, I can hear even the most hopeless students discussing what they're going to do with their lives. Maybe I should go out of the country for college. I've always liked Wales, and I've heard Cardiff is a good international school. But what's the point of traveling that far? It would be lovely to get out of the country, but kind of impractical. What would I even do there? I pass by an open classroom where the English 2 teacher, Mr. Vega, is shouting animatedly about linking verbs. The hallways are almost empty - everyone with an off period has either left the school or settled in a classroom for study hall, since it's the last period of the day. I'm not really sure where I'm going, but my feet seem to have a mind of their own as they guide me down a few hallways and across the landing.

The second I get outside, warm air whips my hair across my face, and I cringe. Miami is a celebrity hotspot - everyone wants to live here. The constant sunshine and pristine beaches are desirable for all the biggest names, but for those of us who aren't rolling in money every night, the novelty of Florida weather wears off after a while; I hurry my steps under the awnings and start to push into the science building when a pair of small arms wrap around my waist in a hug. I gasp slightly. It couldn't be Amanda - she's been in Gainesville for a week on college visits, and Hayley has been training with Angelica to be the top soloists for next year's show choir, so it couldn't be either of them. I whirl around, and a pair of wide green eyes meets my gaze. "Emily!" I let out a short laugh. "Hey, Hannah," she says in a squeaky voice, grinning up at me. Like Amanda, Emily is sort of an oddity. She's four foot ten and has wavy auburn hair that falls down to her shoulders, and her facial features are delicate like a pixie. One of the best French horn players in band and only in tenth grade, she's also the theatre program's most treasured actress and the founding member of our school's eco club. Emily is one of the sweetest people I've ever met, and even though I'm not really in the mood to talk right now, I make an exception for her. "How was history today?" I ask as we push our way into the science building. She groans. "Mr. Steele was as charming as ever," she says grumpily. Head of the sophomore social studies department, Mr. Steele is one of the most difficult teachers to get along with. Although his students have almost a one hundred percent passing rate, he's argumentative and stubborn, and often berates his classes for no apparent reason. "Good to hear," I suppress a smile. "Did he lecture your class on the faults behind the theory of evolution, too?" She nods and hangs her head ashamedly. "It was the most ridiculous hour and a half of my life," she grumbles. "I hear you," I nod in agreement.

She coughs daintily, and we weave our way down the corridor to the stairs by the back window. "What do you think the theme of our halftime show is going to be for marching band next year?" She asks. I perk up immediately. "Well, I was thinking since a lot of other schools spend most of their budget on the flag team, we could have a show that focuses mainly on the dancers and visuals," I begin. "How cool would it be if the theme was Wonderland?" She gasps. "Oh my gosh, totally!"

I wave my hands impatiently and continue, "Our uniforms could mimick the card soldiers, and we could have each dance girl play a different character, like the red queen, the mad hatter, Alice, and the cheshire cat. Also we could have a really dramatic opening where she falls down the rabbit hole, but they use a tarp and roll her up in it to make it look realistic..." We delve into a full on discussion about possible costumes and music for next year, and as we develop new ideas, our voices get more animated. After about twenty minutes of walking, she stops at the door to Coach Swilling's room. "I have to get to class now," she says kindly, "but text me later! We need to make summer plans!" I nod and give her a small wave as she disappears behind the door, leaving me alone again. I continue to wander through the school and eventually lose track of where I am. The festive school banners on the walls suggest the athletic building. Suddenly I'm reminded of Amanda. I miss her. She's out exploring her future, which means we're going to part ways soon. How am I going to survive in college without her? Without anyone? My eyes slide in and out of focus on a picture of our school's soccer team when a strong hand rests on my shoulder.