sparks | henry creel

027

The results of the test are supposed to come back in a week, but knowing Hopper he'd put a rush on it so they only come in two days, most likely. I'm sitting at my desk, tapping my feet.

I feel eyes on me, even though I know it's a good chance it's my anxiety.

I know absolutely nothing on this test.

I've never been pressured in my life. I've never been told that if I don't make only A's and B's, that I'll end up "just like my cousin in Alabama" or whatever the hell parents tell their kids, I don't know. Point is, I won't get punished if I fail this test. Not by anyone else, atleast.

The thing is, since my grandma doesn't push me, she doesn't expect me to get good grades. So it's not a big deal. When at times, I wish it was. Because then I'd feel like she cares about my future, and how I'll turn out to be.

I think she automatically assumes I'm going to turn out like my mother - a druggie living in Forest Hills Trailer park, because trailer parks are that bad.
Or a alcoholic, like my father.

Maybe that's why she wasn't surprised when she found out I was doing weed. Maybe she thought it wasn't my first time, that I tried it when I was thirteen, and had just moved here. Maybe she thought I was already addicted at a young age. Maybe she thought-

"Heather!" I hear a woman yell my name. My teacher.

My head bolts up in confusion. I must've fallen asleep. "What the-" I murmur to myself. I've never fallen asleep during school, I always found it weird to fall asleep in public places in general.

I excuse myself to go to the bathroom.

What is going on with me? I hardly have enough energy to even open the door to the restroom. I lean against the counter, aching everywhere. I then hear the bell for lunch go off.

I DEFINETLY can't go to lunch and see everyone. I don't know if anyone outside of my friend group knows about what happened, but I know it's going to be hard enough talking to them, how am I going to deal with people who aren't my friends?

I decide on hiding out in the bathroom for the lunch period. It won't stop me when it comes to actual classes, but It can help me now.

I sit beside the toilet, tapping my foot on the floor impatiently for the next bell to go off.

I then hear the door open. "Is anyone in here?" I hear.. Henry call out. I sit still. "Heather?"

Shit.

"Yeah?" I say. "What are you doing in here?" He asks.

I should be the one asking you that question. You're a guy in the girls restroom.

"....peeing?" I say back. "I'm in the bathroom, what do you think I'm doing?"

I then hear the door shut. Thank God. That was getting akward.

I stand up, opening the stall, realizing he was shutting the door WITH him in it. "Oh shit-"

"Heather, why are you avoiding me?" He asks, standing in front of me. "Um, I don't know." Is all I can put together to get out. The door slams behind me. "I don't think your friends would like if they found out you were avoiding them." He moves his hand up to my ear, pulling my hair behind my ear. Oh god. He's towering over me, his dark eyes staring into mine.

"I'm... Not." I say. "Mhm."

I can't help but say I've got myself in quite the scenario right now. "Please," Is all I am say. "Hmm?"

The bell rings. God damnit.

"Let's get to free period, shall we?"

I was the only one to enter my house that afternoon. Henry went to film day with everyone, and I was too exhausted so I got on the bus instead of walking like I usually do.

I collapse on the bed, my legs feeling a sense of relief. "Angel?" My grandma calls out from downstairs. Oh come on, I just lied down. "Yeah?" I call out. "Could you come downstairs, please?"

I sigh, using my arms to pull me up. Usually she isn't home around this time of day, she's either shopping or at a volunteering event. "What's up, grandma?" I ask her from the top of the stairs. It was already enough of a struggle getting up, I didn't want to go down there just to go back up immediately. "What's wrong, honey?" She asks, appearing at the bottom of the stairs. "Nothing, I just, don't feel like going downstairs." I shrug.

"Honey, have you been having friends over when I'm not home?" She asks. "No?" I say in confusion. "I've been having to go to the grocery store three times instead of twice, lately." She holds a carton of empty milk in her hand. "Weird." I look down at my feet.