The Neverland Project ✎

━━ three

"Try a little harder next time Cherry."

I should've known it was a bad sign when Mrs. Jack handed me the paper upside down. The unspoken signal of failure. I was almost certain that the students seated around me noticed it too, and if they didn't, I was sure that they made note of my bright red cheeks and how my posture crumbled to a slouch.

I timidly flipped over the stapled pieces of paper to reveal a bright red fifty-four written in a pen at the top of the paper. I bit my lip to force back a groan. Another test that I would have to hide from mom. With exams coming up, I needed to improve some of these grades. History was mandatory in order to graduate and at the current moment, I was failing the course and wouldn't end up receiving the credit.

Mom would be so disappointed in me. I could already picture the face she would make when she found out about this, the third test that I'd failed this year. Her eyebrows would scrunch closer together, eyes would narrow as she pressed her lips into a thin line. Then she would start yelling.

I shoved the paper into the back pocket of my backpack. What Mom didn't know wouldn't kill her. I could see the students around me smiling as they looked at their papers, unable to contain their joy as they slid them into their bags. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail, letting it fall around my face, creating a curtain to shield me from the classroom.

From behind my wall of hair, I glanced up at the clock sitting above the door. I still had another half hour of sitting here in history, struggling to remember all the names of these people that died years ago.

"Ms. Ellis?" Mrs. Jack called out from the front of the room. "Please keep up Cherry, we're reading from our textbooks now. Turn to page one-hundred and sixteen, everyone!" She trilled, opening her own textbook and placing it under the overhead, projecting it onto the whiteboard.

I jumped slightly in my seat, pulling my history textbook out of my backpack. All around me I could hear the snickering of my classmates and I felt myself getting hotter. Even my hands were sweating as I flipped through the heavy book, before landing on the page. I pulled my hair tie off my wrist and put my hair back up, looking up at the board awaiting instruction.

Mrs. Jack's gaze moved across the classroom. Every pair of eyes moved to avoid hers as she scanned the thirty-some-odd kids in the room. Finally, her eyes rested on me. "Cherry, why don't you read the first few sentences for us?" She said sweetly.

Not wanting to get into any more trouble, I nodded and cleared my throat. "During the 1930s, many countries around the world were struggling from an economic slowdown. In Canada, many people lost their jobs and were destitute, and governments looked for solutions to the economic crisis."

I glanced up at Mrs. Jack after I finished, and she nodded approvingly. "Wonderful. Now, can anyone tell me what destitute means?"

An array of hands flew up into the air, hoping to be called upon. I kept my hands clasped in my lap, silently begging Mrs. Jack to leave me alone and let me sit here in silence. Thankfully, she did, calling on a mousy-haired girl in the back of the classroom.

"Destitute means extreme poverty," she said. Mrs. Jack nodded once again, and the girl looked very proud of herself. I narrowed my eyes and looked back down at the textbook laying open on the desk in front of me. The words on the tattered pages describe the experiences of countries around the world during the Great Depression. Russia, Asia, America, and my home, Canada.

Despite it being an interesting topic to cover, I couldn't bring myself to pay attention. My eyes kept being pulled towards the clock sitting above the door. It was as if there was an invisible string holding my vision in place, my sneakers tapping on the ground with each second that passed by.