The Lost Soul

Chapter 8

—Greyson's POV—

"Mr. Winter, I'd love to hear your opinion on the subject."

Someone kicks my desk, shaking me from my dream. I look up, startled. My English teacher, Mrs. Anderson, is standing three feet from my desk – close enough to know, without a doubt, that I had been sleeping.

"I, uh, don't know." I feel a blush spread like wildfire onto my checks as everyone turns to look at me, some with pity in their eyes and others with amusement. I hear a few snickers as I sink down in my chair.

"You don't know." Mrs. Anderson says in a disbelieving voice. She crosses her arms and frowns, amplifying the depth of her facial wrinkles.

"Uh, no." I reply in a small voice, embarrassed. I have no idea what she's talking about; the last thing I remember is sitting in the desk at the beginning of the period.

"Perhaps if you had gotten enough sleep last night, you'd be able to actively participate in your classes."

I grunt and look at the floor, breaking eye contact. In all honesty, I hadn't gotten much sleep last night – maybe two hours, if that. Having first period gym didn't help, either.

Yesterday, I had been researching Faye's 'condition'. I spent at least three hours reading countless articles on coma patients' survival stories, and time had gotten away from me when I took a few hours to watch movies that sounded similar to the situation. So far, Insidious has been the most relatable, in my opinion.

Since Faye had briefly woken up, two days ago, I've felt like we're so close to fixing her. I just wish that there was something I could do that would help. That being said, wherever Faye is, she seems to be doing a decent job on her own. No matter what research I do, none of it will be of any relevancy without Faye present to confirm or deny things.

After being pleased with my ashamed silence, Mrs. Anderson turns on her heel and walks back to the front of the class, her greying brown ponytail swaying annoyingly as she went. She takes her place next to the whiteboard.

"So, where were we?"

I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out under the desk, trying to not get yelled at by Mrs. Anderson twice in one day. I had a text notification.

Finn: Busted XD

I angrily text back.

Grey: Not funny.

I received a reply immediately.

Finn: At least she woke you before you started drowning in your own drool.

Grey: Screw off, dickhead. No one asked you.

I hear Finn smother a laugh from the other side of the classroom.

I turn my phone off before jamming it back into my pocket. I open my binder and begin taking down notes.

Lately, Finn has been making me very inexplicably angry. I'm not sure if it's because I haven't been hanging out with him much, or because I've been busy with Faye, but he irritates the hell out of me. It seems like the only thoughts going around in the small brain of his were parties, girls, and sports.

Now that I think about it, we don't have much in common anymore. He has changed greatly since we became friends, and not for the better.

As I record my notes, my mind wanders to sports. Will I be able to keep my marks up enough to satisfy both my parents and my coach? If my grades get any lower, I'll be kicked off the basketball team, regardless of my parents' decisions.